Page 33 of Cruel God

The door to my left opened, and I watched as another row of girls got ushered in, led to stand in front of the others. These girls had been here a while, so they already knew what to expect. They already knew not to be fooled by the deceptively calm ambience of this room.

I shifted from one foot to the other, a slight flutter of excitement bubbling in my gut as I watched the girls walk in. It was something I always felt when I anticipated seeing her again. The girl I always sought out among the rest of them. The girl with the dark brown eyes that reminded me of rich, melted chocolate; and whose hair smelled like strawberry shampoo.

As she walked in, dressed in a clean white robe, her long hair hanging down her shoulders, my heart skipped a beat. She was one of the girls my father kept around to use as entertainment whenever he hosted one of his lavish sex parties, or when some of his most important allies decided to visit. He only kept the most beautiful ones while selling the others. Once a kept-girl lost the interest of his guests, he’d sell them to the highest bidder. In the most fucked-up way I was thankful she still caught the eye of other men. Thankful that my father’s vilefriendsstill desired her. I didn’t blame them. She was beautiful with an innocence that never disappeared.

It had been three years since she arrived here. In fact, it had been thirty-eight months and thirteen days. I kept count. How couldn’t I? I’d never forget the first time I saw her face; how the guilt tore apart my insides when our eyes met…and she smiled. She fucking smiled at me even though she knew I was one of them. One of the bad guys. Yet, she still smiled, and it was so warm. So genuine. So innocent. It cracked through the ice around my heart and made me feel something other than complete blackness.

Ever since that one defining moment, her face haunted me every second of every day. Even during the times my dad demanded I service some of the other women—her face was the only one I saw the entire time.

Hope. She was my…Hope.

“Now, listen up.” My father’s voice erupted through the silent room. “As the newcomers, you will all be marked with a number on your wrist. In this world, you have no name.” He pointed at the line of girls who had just entered. “Just like them you are merely a number. Now take a long hard look. You’ll see there are only sixteen of them. The day they arrived, there were twenty-four.” An evil smirk stretched along his thick lips and grey mustache. “The other eight were incapable of following the rules here, and they paid for their disobedience…with their blood.”

The young girl's sobs grew louder, and I tore my gaze from Hope to look at the crying child. Even from a few feet away, I could see her tiny frame tremble. I would have felt empathy for her if I wasn’t nervous over the fact that she hadn’t stopped crying. There was no telling how soon my father would become annoyed by her whining. He wasn’t particularly fond of the younger ones as they were unpredictable, and unable to control their emotions. But some of his highest paying clients preferred the younger ones. Sick fucks

I noticed Hope glance over her shoulder at the weeping girl, and as she looked back at me, I could see her sympathy for the girl flash in her eyes. Her shoulders stiffened, and by the way she bit the corner of her bottom lip, I knew she was struggling against her instinct to console and protect.

Jesus. Don’t. Don’t move, Hope.

My nostrils flared, and I fisted my hands which I clutched behind my back. My heart hammered against my ribs, worry and panic clawing at my chest. If Hope lost her composure, if she so much as put one step out of line she’d pay a price I wasn’t willing to have her pay.

Up until now, my father had ignored the crying girl, but as her weeping became increasingly louder and distracting, my father glanced in her direction every few seconds while he continued his fucked-up speech about how they had been chosen to serve the elite.

Chosen, my ass.

They were taken. Kidnapped. Abducted. But my father liked to bend the truth, thinking it would make them compliant, tame, which meant they’d be easier to train for a life within The Ruin, devoting their lives to their masters and mistresses.

My father straightened the sleeves of his suit jacket, his presence a solid weight within the room. “Do as you’re told, and I give you my word no harm will befall you.”

Lies. It was all fucking lies. His word meant nothing.

“I want my mommy,” the girl cried, and I closed my eyes, silently praying that God would help that little girl keep her mouth shut. “Please, I want my mommy.”

Fuck!

Her eyes were puffy and red; her face dirty and expression distorted with fear and sadness. If her hands and feet hadn’t been shackled, she would have run. She would have tried to get away because the uncertainty and panic was too much for her tiny body and young mind to handle. At that age there was no fighting instinct when it came to danger. Only flight.

I watched Hope the entire time, and I could see in her pained expression she was desperate to help the little girl, knowing exactly what would happen to her if she didn’t stop crying. Just like the other women standing in the same row as her, she knew the heavy hand of my father’s wrath, and the torment it inflicted. But her heart and mind were at war while the sound of the girl’s crying seemingly clawed at her soul.

Don’t do it, Hope. Please, by God, don’t do it.

“I want to go home! Someone please, I want my mommy and my daddy!”

My dad looked at X, who stood at the far left, giving him a command with a single glance, and I stopped fucking breathing.

Jesus Christ.

Hope noticed X approach the girl, and my heart all but crept up my throat thinking of what would happen if she dared to interfere.

For a moment, Hope’s gaze met mine, and something passed between us, as if we had known each other our entire lives when in fact, we had never spoken a single word to each other. There was a connection between us, an energy that had us drawn to one another. I couldn’t explain it, and even though there was no way to be sure that she felt it too—I just knew she did. I just fucking knew it.

Hope bit her bottom lip, and I saw the struggle in her worried eyes as she stared at me. I lightly shook my head, a silent plea for her not to move. To not interfere. If she did, she’d get hurt, and I wouldn’t have been able to bear it. It was already hard enough knowing that the girl whose smile soothed my soul had to live through this hell while I was incapable of saving her. But at the same time, the wicked Cain blood that ran through my veins had me feeling selfishly thankful that she was here. That she had to endure this nightmare. If she hadn’t been thrust into this world, my dark existence would never have been touched by the light of her beautiful smile.

“Don’t do it.”I repeated the words like a fucking mantra inside my head, hoping that somehow, someway she’d hear me.

The girl cried the most heart-wrenching sobs that tore from her tiny body, and X quickly closed the distance between him and the child. The expression on his face was stern, the horrendous scar slithering like a snake as he smiled with so much malicious intent.

Everything went on mute, my focus solely on Hope while my thoughts raced with thoughts of how I could stop this all from happening. But as she closed her eyes; her lips parted as she breathed out, I knew. I fucking knew that there was no way in hell I’d be able to stop her.

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