Page 16 of Judgment Day

She thought I was a monster, and that only made me want to kill Winston even more. But if I did that now, it would only prove her right and push her away. I had to be careful. Calculated.

Sadie shook her head. “I need to find Winston.” And then she disappeared into the crowd of guests.

Mrs. McTavish eyed me with more sympathy than I was comfortable with. She placed her small hand on my forearm in a quiet effort to console me.

I tightened my jaw. “Please see that no one follows us.”

But it didn’t matter. By the time I got to the library, Winston had drawn a crowd. He was pulling books off of shelves and slamming them on the floor. He’d strewn papers from my desk around like confetti.

“Looking for something?” I asked as I leaned against the doorframe with my hands in my pockets. The more I looked around, the more fury swelled, then exploded in my veins, hot and fierce. I clenched my fists in my pockets to keep from bashing his fucking face in. The fuck gave him the right to invademyspace and tear upmyshit?

“I know you had something to do with it. You put those bullets in his chest, and I’m going to prove it.” His words slurred together.

Sadie, the picture-perfect queen, placed a hand on his back. Her voice was soft and calm as she comforted him. It was like a glass splinter to my chest, ripping my heart in two.

“Liam died of natural causes. No one is responsible for that,” she reminded him.

That was the story we told everyone, including her. Liam had a heart attack. No one outside of the Brotherhood knew the true cause of his death. Our society was a quilt sewn together with secrets. We lived by secrets… and we died by them. Now, Winston was announcing one of them to a room full of people, laying his vulnerabilities at my feet to use however I saw fit. And I would use them. I would use it to punish him in more ways than one. His words were truth, but in our world,truthwas what we chose to let others see. Right now, thetruthonly made him look like a crazy person.

I walked across the library, threading through the small, yet observant crowd he’d gathered, then stopped in front of him. Playing my role as a gracious host, I placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and gave him a warm smile. “Your confusion is understandable. The prince’s loss has deeply affected us all.” I leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “This is your last warning. Pull another stunt like this, and they’ll bury you right beside him.” And then I watched, with a vine of thorns around my heart, as Sadie held his hand and led him out of the room.

TEN

My flesh burned.Thick trails of blood trickled down the backs of my thighs all the way to my feet—enough of it to leave bloody footprints with every step I took. My skin was raw and flayed, but the lashes kept coming. They never stopped coming.

“Hold on ta the bar, ya fuckin’ wankstain,” a gruff voice yelled from behind me. Then the whip slashed across my back again.

They’d bound my mouth with a leather belt, strapped around my head. At first, I thought it was to gag me. I quickly realized it was for me to bite down on to bear the pain.

My hair was drenched in sweat. It beaded on my forehead and rolled down my face. My head was too heavy to hold up, so I let it drop between my outstretched arms. A stream of snot and tears joined with the river of sweat flowing over my face. Tears were the body’s natural way of self-soothing, a chemical roadblock for pain. I wondered when the time would come that I’d run out of tears and become numb.

I closed my eyes and pictured her face, always her face. Sadie was the only thing that got me through. I found my strength in her smile, heard her voice telling me not to give up.

When I opened my eyes, I was alone in my bedroom. Sweat fell from my hair and stung my eyes. I sat up, my heart pounding as I gasped for air.

Same nightmare.

Different night.

It was hard to outrun your demons when they’d dug a hole and buried themselves inside. For five years, that nightmare was my reality.

It was after four in the morning, but I pulled off my briefs and turned the shower on full hot. I needed the way the water pelted my skin, craved it. Over the years, I’d learned that the only way to take away the raw ache in the scars on my back was to inflict a new pain, a different pain. The scars didn’tactuallyhurt. It was a phantom burn brought on by the nightmares. But it felt as real as anything I’d ever known.

I lathered up a washcloth and soaped my entire body down. The scalding hot water ran in rivers over my skin, cleansing the memories, purging them through fire.

In these moments and only these moments, the demons went quiet. The outer scars overtook the ones inside. I stood there, in a scorching baptismal, until my skin turned the softest shade of red. Then I turned off the water and grabbed a towel to dry off. I climbed back into bed, naked, and closed my eyes, praying for peace.

ELEVEN

They took Winston.

The Sovereign is, by reason of infirmity of mind or body, incapable, for the time being, of performing the royal functions.

That was what they’d said. They’d voted on it. As his wife, as thequeen, I’d objected, but that didn’t matter. I was outnumbered, four-to-one.

Now, he spent his nights in a ten-by-ten room inside an old manor that had been refurbished into an elite psychiatric ward. He had a flat-screen TV to watch, original paintings on his walls, and bamboo sheets on his bed, but it was nothing more than an elaborate prison cell. I wasn’t even allowed to visit him.

I spent my nights restless, sitting in the breakfast room drinking hot tea and milk. I hadn’t slept in days. Anniston would be appointed Regent soon. What did that mean for me? I may not have chosen to be here, but for the past twelve years, I’d survived it. Grey was right. Winston was a monster. But he was a monster I knew.

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