Page 65 of Be My Sacrifice

I pull back and meet his heated gaze. “We have to get back to Dinah. She’s alone, and while I have no doubt that she can handle herself, she could be outnumbered just as I was.”

“I know, she’s stubborn as fuck, and sexy as hell when she bosses me around. I never thought I’d be into that shit, but here we are.” A breath-taking smile crosses his handsome features, and his eyes seem to glow as he speaks about our girl. “Let’s get this over with. I want to get back to her now, before she does something rash like go find that cunt all on her own.”

The minute he utters the words, both of us release a groan. “Dammit, she went after him alone. She sent you to get me, but there is no way that she would wait around for us. Fuck!” I jump up from my spot and start shooting, and Zeke does the same. Both of us are anxious now to get back to Dinah.

We shoot until I run out of bullets and reload, and then the space gets morbidly quiet. Just as we begin to think the space is all clear, a metal canister bangs against the wall across from us, and smoke immediately starts to escape it. The corridor begins to fill with thick and nauseating smoke, and I can no longer see my hand in front of my face, never mind the enemy.Fucking hell!

Zeke scrambles forward, trying to get through the dense fog, and I follow the sight of his frame. We take a couple of steps before we are both struck from behind, and forced down to our knees, as guns are pressed against the back of our skulls. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, indeed, Abraham Mercier.” Just when I thought things couldn’t possibly get any fucking worse, there’s always something ready to prove me wrong, like David appearing before us and holding us at gunpoint.

Fuck, I hope Dinah is okay.This was a trap, after all, and I’m not sure this guy was ever genuinely working with the rebels, and hasn’t been a double agent the whole time.

“Hey, double-crossing cunt. Feel like dying today?” I question with false bravado. Never let them see you sweat.Fuck him.If he wants to murder us, we are going to go down fighting.

Chapter forty-three

The Sinner

Dinah

Ipushawayfromthe wall, watching him go, and wondering if I will ever see him again. Will I live to see any of them ever again? I reload the clip of my gun and make my way down the hall, now littered with dead Brotherhood soldiers. I want to feel remorse that some husband, father, son, or brother, may never make it back home because he now lays dead on this floor, but I’m empty inside. All of these men had choices to be here today, to fight against me. The women of the world have no options; this is their rebellion. This is how they take back their power, by killing every single man who sees them as less than them.

Sammy was once a Brotherhood soldier with no options,my mind reminds me.Hold on to your humanity; you’re losing it quicker than those bodies are draining of their blood. Don’t let the Brotherhood take more from you.

It’s true. I feel myself losing grasp of my morals and even my reality. All the bloodshed, all the lives that I have taken in the name of my vengeance, has taken a toll on me. I no longer even know who I am.

Am I Dinah Camrose, or am I the Unholy Ghost? There was a time when I believed I could be both, and still keep my sanity and soul intact. I’m no longer naive enough to believe that. Both can no longer exist in the same space. One craves peace and the love of her men. The other demands the world be painted red with the blood of her enemies, and sees no end in sight to the death and destruction that she wields.

I stride forward, lost in my quicksand of thoughts, until I find myself before two sizable, mahogany wood doors that must lead into one of the larger suites. My hand rises to the door handle, but I find myself hesitating with it in my grip. Once I turn this knob, I will open Pandora’s Box, and there will be no turning back. If this was all a trap, I will have gift-wrapped myself in a pretty crimson bow to the Order, the rebels, or whoever David truly serves.

I may end up losing Sammy, Zeke, and Abe, if not my own life.Wait for Zeke and Abe,my heart begs as I continue to stand frozen on the spot outside the door.Go in and kill him. You know he’s in there. You can feel it deep in your gut. Kill him and set yourself free,the monster calls, tempting me with more destruction.

My hesitation costs me, and a soldier dressed in the uniform of the Brotherhood pops around the corner, running for his life. My arm rises unbidden and without thought, and I pull the trigger, putting a bullet into his chest as he slams against the wall, and slides down it. His young, brown eyes meet mine, filled with surprise, panic, and fear. He tries to speak, but foam tinged with blood expels from his mouth, and splatters across his lips and chin in a grotesque abstract pattern. He’s so young, barely out of his teens, and dead at my hands.

What the fuck have I done? Is this who I am now? A killer with no thought to who I’m murdering?He would have killed you, if you hadn’t shot first,the monster scolds.

Would he have? I’ll never know now.He looks like a frightened young man, barely out of his youth. Maybe he had no choice but to enter the Brotherhood army, just like my Sammy didn’t. Perhaps he was trying to run away from the fighting and not towards it. I will never know anything about him, except that the last person he saw on this earth was me, his killer. I move away from the door and crouch down in front of him, as his last breath leaves his body, and I reach forward, allowing my fingers to softly close his eyelids over his sightless brown eyes. Eyes that will haunt my nightmares, if I get to live past tonight.So much death. I have taken so many lives.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I whisper, swiping at the tear that slides from the corner of my eye. A sob rises within me, tightening my chest and lodging in my throat, as more tears make an appearance, and I’m unable to stop them.

I’m so tired, so very weary. Every part of me is exhausted from everything that I have endured. The memories of the horrors I have both witnessed and committed. Almost dying at the hands of a boy I loved, only to be brought back to life to find out the man I love, my protector and soulmate, is enduring monstrosities for my mistakes. The fighting, the lying, and the schemes. All the darkness that inhabits me like a parasite, and is devouring me from the inside out.

When will all this end? Will it ever end, or will we be fighting the same battles twenty years from now? How many lives will I have taken by then? Hundreds, thousands, hundreds of thousands?

It feels almost hopeless that we are endeavoring to change the world. Was the world any better before the Brotherhood took over? Will the world survive after they are gone?

Questions with no answers that I’m ill-equipped to give. Who am I to be the one to demand change? I’m just some girl who loved her mom and pretty blue ribbons in her hair. A girl who hero-worshiped her older brother, and had a crush on his two friends. A daughter who lost her respect for a father she once adored, and realized that he was a monster. A woman who fell in love with a man who should have remained out of reach. I am all those things, and in the same instance, I am nothing and no one.

The rebels want a martyr, the Brotherhood wants a Sacred Wife and daughter, the populace wants a leader they can rally behind, and all I want is them:Abe, Zeke, and my Sammy. As I stand here, looking at a dead boy, far too young to have died in a war he probably didn’t understand, I’m not even convinced that I should want them. I have been the instrument of destruction for each of them. How long will it be before I’m staring into their dead faces?

The price demanded to live in this world is too steep, and I have already paid more than my fair share. I have cried, lost, suffered, and destroyed my soul, yet I stand here, looking for strength and absolution, even though I know forgiveness will not be granted for my sins.

I use the back of my hand to rub at my sore and swollen eyes, swiping angrily at the tear tracks that represent my moment of weakness. My other hand clenches the gun tightly in my grip, as it becomes an extension of my arm, an extension of me and the violence within me. This is what I must be, cold and deadly, emotionless. I came here to free Sammy, and the price of that is death. His, mine, the whole world’s, does it even matter anymore as long as he is free?

I make my way to the door again, but this time, I don’t hesitate to turn the knob and open the door. I move into the barely lit room soundlessly, my eyes and ears searching the space for danger. At first, I see nothing but huge windows allowing the night sky within, and I fear I have gone to the wrong wing. What I seek is with Abe and Zeke on the other side.Goddammit! I’ve been wallowing in self-pity all this time, and he’s not even here.

Then a shadow moves almost imperceptibly at the far side of the room, deep in the darkness. I raise the gun, pointing it in that direction, my body filling with stillness as I expel a deep breath. This is it; this is the moment that will secure Sammy’s freedom, and I must not hesitate.

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