Page 10 of The Preachers' Promise
“Yep.” Cain nods. “I didn’t tell you because it is supposed to be kept a secret. But there are guys there who owe me. I helped train some so they could win their fights. These are men with shitloads of money, and a lot of power out there in the real world, but in the fight club, they didn’t have the size or the skills to win. I nearly always win, so some asked me to help, and I obliged. The guy who runs the club owes me big because, really, I’ve helped him grow it a lot. It makes him a fuck-ton of money now, and all tax free.”
Guards from a secretive fight club…what could go wrong? Still, it’s better than having no backup at all.
“I say call them,” I reply. “If your dad doesn’t come through, that is.”
“I’ll do it ASAP. Dad first, and if he’s a no-go, then these guys.”
Sometimes Cain impresses me with how much of a leader he is when we need it. I might be the spiritual leader, but when it comes to holding us together, that’s all on Cain.
I can’t stop my mind drifting back to Ophelia and the world of confusion and pain she might be in right now. While we hope she's physically safe where she is, I don't think any of us believe she will be able to deal with it mentally or emotionally.
Malachi picks up his guitar from the corner and absentmindedly strums a few chords. “Is Ophelia going to be okay while we put all this in place?”
“We only just made her Prophet go away.” I hear the sorrow clearly in my own voice. “She believes we are the thing holding him at bay. We need her back with us before she starts to unravel.”
He pauses, his painted black nails motionless on the strings. “Don’t you think that's fucked up?”
Cain has been scrolling through his phone, presumably to find the numbers of the people he needs to call, but he stops, too. “What do you mean?”
Mal puts the guitar back down and leans forward, looking at us both. “Well, if we're the only thing keeping him away…” Malachi gestures with his palms up, as if what he's about to say is obvious. “Then if anything happens between us, and this falls apart, she's back to square one. We need her to believeshe'sthe one to defeat him. That she's strong enough to overcome the voice in her head.”
He's right. “Exactly. You're correct. But the problem is we needmore time. She's been snatched from us too soon. Gone after one week of persuading her she's free. That's not enough. She's going to freak out, and I think she’ll hear the Prophet again, precisely because we haven’t had enough time to convince her she can control this.”
Mal watches me thoughtfully.
I turn to Cain. “Do her parents still live in the same house? The one where you used to go see her?”
“Yes. They never moved, I guess because they always thought she might come home. We could go and get her tomorrow. If we can get some men to start working on this place, making it more habitable for four of us.”
“We’ll need bedrooms,” Mal interjects.
“That’s doable. Things like piping and power would take a long time, but we have that. We need furniture, some blinds in some of the rooms upstairs. Beds, bedding.” Cain shrugs at Mal. “Come on, we have more than enough money to throw a shit-ton of it at this and get it done fast.”
Mal blows out a breath but doesn’t argue.
I like the idea. “Maybe we can get them to create a space for her upstairs. Like a room that’s not got all of our shit in it. Something airy, light, and calming.”
“Yep, I wasn’t planning on asking them to fill it with herbs, bowls, and chicken’s feet.” Cain’s deadpan delivery makes me laugh despite the seriousness of the situation. “I’ll go make those calls. Try to sort us some backup security.”
I nod at him. I’ve not offered to call my own family and ask for help, because I don’t trust any of them. The old emotions threaten to stir in me, and I don’t want that now. I must focus on Ophelia, and making things right for her, not allow myself to wallow in my past.
She’s changed my life. The other two men have feelings for her, that’s clear, but mine are deep. Profound. She’s given me a gift and opened up a world I’d always thought would remain closed off.
Sex was a dirty secret. A bad thing. Yes, I sometimes took care of myself, but it always came with a hefty dose of guilt and self-hatred. Now, she’s opened a door to a world of pleasure, and I’ve walked through it gladly. For that, I owe her my life in many ways. I’ll do all I can to get her back and then help make her whole, the way she’s helping me.
Cain takes his phone outside, and I hear the low murmur of him talking. I wonder if he’s gotten hold of his father, or if he’s talking to someone from the mysterious fight club he’s been attending. His admission didn’t surprise me. I’d thought he’d been going to bars and starting fights, but knowing he’s been doing something a little more regulated makes sense.
From the couch, Mal blows out a long breath and gets to his feet. “I’m going to go for a walk,” he says. “I’m fucking too jacked up on adrenaline. Need to burn some of it off.”
I let him go. I want some time to myself here, so it suits me.
Once they’re both out of the tower, I take the jar from the shelf with Ophelia’s hair and blood in it. Walking into the alter room, I set it on the ground and strip naked. I grab what I need: a small bowl, a stirring rod, a feather, and some dried clover flowers. Then I take my already hard cock in hand and close my eyes, thinking of her.
I let my mind run through images of Ophelia walking in the woods, of her slim body outlined in one of her thin dresses. I imagine myself stalking her. Just me, not the other two. I like our dynamic, but sometimes I imagine it’s just her and me, and I’m not the civilized Roman she knows. I’m the dark beating heart of my secrets and trauma. The fucked-up part of myself that never sees the light, comes out to play in my deepest fantasies.
She’s innocently walking in the woods, and I’m following her, like a fucking predator. I work my cock harder as I imagine the moment I catch her, wrapping my arms around her waist and yanking her hard against me. She’ll try to scream, but I’ll cover her mouth with my hand and push her to the ground.
Fuck, the image is so hot, I can feel myself growing harder in my hand. In my mind, I pull that dress up her pale thighs, and her eyes widen as she starts to panic. I make quick work of tying her up, then drop to my knees on the forest floor, taking my position between her thighs. I lower my face to her pussy and inhale her scent, before covering her with my mouth. I lick and suck and tongue her, worshipping her right there on the ground.
