Page 12 of The Preachers' Promise
“When?” I ask.
“I can have men with us by tomorrow, the day after at the latest. I’ve called in some favors, so once we know where the hell we will be, we can give them our location. We might still be up in New Hampshire, or back here. It all depends on how it goes. We just need Dom to come through for us, and if he’s willing to push it with his father, I think he can get Nataniele to agree to us having a few men out here at the tower.”
I nod, but the sense of anxiety gnawing at me won’t quit. It is increasing with every single minute that ticks by. So many things could go wrong. What if her parents move fast? Dom had said they wanted her under their own roof where they can monitor her safety, but that they will move her when it’s safe to do so. Take her somewhere more hidden away. Somewhere the cult won’t find her, but … neither will we.
I’m torturing myself with images of her being sent to a fucking convent or something. Hidden, secluded, impossible to find.
Every damn minute she’s away from us also gives the Prophet a chance to get back in her head and stay there. That damned voice has haunted her for too long. I hate the thought of him coming back and tormenting her. He already took enough of her life when he stole her childhood, and I don’t want him to have a minute more.
There are more selfish reasons I want her back, too.
I want to feel her hair brushing over my chest or wrapped around my fist. I want to look into those amazing dual-colored eyes as I fuck into her and see them widen in surprise as if it’s her first time all over again.
I want to sink into that tight pussy and fuck her as my fellow Preachers watch. It makes me harder than ever to take her in front of them. To claim her and fill her with my cum, knowing they will do the same, is intense. We all use her, but we also all worship her. She’s the center of our world now. She has provided the thing we all needed. A point around which to rotate.
She’s the sun, and we are her planets.
And planets can’t live without the light of their sun.
“We should go tonight,” I mutter to Cain.
Roman walks into the room, overhearing the last part of our conversation and sighs. “I think you’re right. The sooner the better.”
“Why the change of heart, Mal?” Cain sips at a can of soda, looking at me over the rim. “A couple of hours ago, you were against us fetching her at all. Anyway, Dom said her parents want her home with them for now, until they find somewhere safer. She’ll be fine there, for a night. Her father will have armed guards around the house. If we go unprepared, they’re less likely to let her come back with us. If we have four permanent armed guards stationed here, and ourselves never leaving her side, they’ll be more persuadable.”
“I think we should go tonight,” Roman repeats. “That’s my vote. I’m going to go and pack some shit to take with us.” He gives a mock salute by the door and closes it behind him, leaving just me and Cain.
“It’s better to arrive there in the light of day,” Cain argues.
I shake my head. He’s wrong. “I’ve got a bad feeling. Been having it for the past couple of hours, and it’s getting worse. They’re not going to let her come back here with us, Cain. We must simply take her.”
“Fuck’s sake, Mal. How do you suggest we do that?” He turns to face me, his temper making a vein in his temple throb. “You think I don’t want her back right this minute, too? But if we go in there to take her, it risks bullets flying. Her father will have her locked down and guarded by men with guns. I’m not worried for my own safety, but what if a stray bullet hit her? Would you ever forgive yourself?”
I open my mouth to speak, but he holds his hand up, silencing me.
“What if we end up taking out her father in some fucking gunfight? Will she still want to be with us? Don’t you think she’s had enough trauma? I believe I can persuade her parents. Her mother for sure. That’s half the battle, and I have faith in Ophelia to be able to win them over the rest of the way. Theywant her to have a life. And they want her to be safe, too. We can offer that, and we have something that they don’t.”
“Which is?”
“The cult doesn’t have the address of the college, right? Ophelia only gave them her parents’ home address, like you pointed out. It means that so long as she’s guarded here, she’s actually safer because her father has to keep her at home, where the cult might be able to find her. Or he must take her to a safe house, hidden away, and there he won’t have all his connections and power structures. We have the best of both worlds. The college grounds, guarded, secure. And our own men. There’s also the three of us. It is like having a team of guardian angels. Plus, we’re off the map. In every sense. No one from the cult can know she’s at Verona Falls. We could even have Dom take her name off the student register. Get her father to delete all evidence of her coming here by getting rid of any emails and correspondence with Nataniele.”
I scratch my jaw as I consider his words. He’s right about us not going in guns blazing, and how would we? I called my parents, too, but they were useless. Making excuses about how they couldn’t really spare any men, and my father telling me how I need to learn to fend for myself if I’m going to prove myself as one of the family. So fuck them, but it still doesn’t help with the feeling I have. I’m almost at the point of freaking out as this feeling in me is getting so strong.
“What is it?” Cain asks me. “What gives? You look worried sick.”
“I’m not Roman. I know that. I’m not the one who believes he has access to his ancestors’ voices and guidance, or whatever the fuck it is he believes in deep down. But Cain, I have intuition, and mine is screaming at me that we need to go sooner rather than later. I had a dream, a bad one. I can’t explain it any morethan that, but I have a feeling right here.” I slam my hand over my abs. “If we wait, we might be too late.”
Cain stares at me, his jaw working. “You really feel as if some shit is going down?”
“I can’t shake the sick worry I’ve got, and it’s only getting worse. In my dream, I saw her being driven away in a white van while she begged her parents not to do it.”
He blows out a breath. “Shit. Okay, let’s talk to Roman when he returns and discuss going tonight. But Mal,” he says sternly, “we go to talk to her parents, not to kidnap her. We do this the right way.”
I’m relieved he doesn’t try to make me believe it was only a dream, but I’m still anxious.
“And if we can’t persuade them?”
His face darkens. “Then we have no choice, and we must do it the wrong way. But at least we’ll have tried to spare her from any more violence.”
