Page 48 of Bells

And Bells. . . that bitch would get hers. I just needed some time to get some things sorted out before I made my final play.

After all, I wasn’t new to the game I played with my father.

I’d ante up if it’s what he wanted.

BELLS

“Everett?” I called out as I poked my head into his office. Everett was my guardian. He’d taken me after killing my father years ago. He’d given me atasteof revenge in more ways than one. He never let me stay in his home though. He swore me to secrecy. Church was never to know that I was his adopted sister. Same for Stitches.

He kept me at his office, in a dungeon in the basement. It was a decent set-up. He didn’t let the men touch me like he did other girls he kept. Or boys. Instead, he took care of me and made me feel so good. He taught me how to hurt people. How to win. How to fuck.

I did all the things he asked of me. I lured in the children for him. The young girls. Even the boys. Sometimes, when I was really good, he’d let me watch while they were hurt by the men. While they screamed and begged for help as the monsters that dwelled these parts of the world took what they wanted.

I enjoyed it because it meant someone else got to hurt besides me.

I appreciated their pain. Demanded it. It was my freedom to watch them scream and beg. I’d fucking earned it.

“What are you doing up here?” Everett demanded without looking at me from where he sat in his dimly lit office. The fireplace crackled, warming the room.

I went to him and kneeled at his feet.

His gaze dragged over my face. He looked a lot like Church, except Everett smiled more than Church did.

“I missed you. You haven’t come to see me. Where were you?”

He reached out and caressed my cheek. “Why do you think you have a right to know?”

“Because. . . I-I love you.”

He moved his hand from my face, leaving cold in his wake.

“I was seeing your brother.”

“Church,” I whispered, my heart leaping. “Did you tell him? About everything? Me and him?”

“In a way,” he said, turning his attention back to the flames.

“Was he happy?”

He said nothing as he continued to stare at the dancing fire. Worry grew deep in my belly.

“Daddy?” I asked softly.

Everett snapped his attention to me. He loved when I called him Daddy.

“You had one job, Isabella. One,” he said softly, his voice sending chills over my body. “It was the easiest job, and you still failed.”

“I-I didn’t fail. He loves me! He fucked me!” I stared wide-eyed at him. “Sin came in and ruined everything! If he wouldn’t have gotten home early, I’d have Church here with me now! I know I would have.”

Everett turned away from me and stared back at the fire.My throat ached with worry as the minutes ticked by.

“You’re useless, Isabella,” he murmured.

“What? I-I’m not. I did a good job,” I choked out, the floodgates opening and tears rushing down my cheeks. “I got Church to give in. I know I could do it again—”

“One fucking job. Bring my son home. I thought he was young and dumb and would fuck his way here, but you proved worthless in that endeavor.”

“I-I can do it. I swear I can. I’ll go back—”

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