Page 69 of Forgive Me For I Have Sinned

My heart is beating wildly in my chest. My fingers are trembling, and the hair is sticking to the back of my neck. There is a sheen of sweat on the top of my lip. I'm terrified, but I can't show them fear.

I turn to run with my phone in my hand, trying to dial for help and screaming.

"Adam!"

I hear the sound of heavy footsteps as a gloved hand covers my mouth, and I'm lifted off the ground. I struggle, but whoever it is, is too strong. I hit the side of the mask and hear a loud grunt. I try to kick and scream, but it's no use. A large blacked-out SUV pulls up, and I'm shoved inside.

"You son of a bitch! Adam! Adam! Help!" I scream. The door slams shut. They place a dark hood over my head, and I try to kick and push when they tie my hands and feet together.

"Help!" I'm breathing fast, and my chest hurts. My voice is hoarse, and my throat burns. I feel something hard being stuffed in my mouth and a piece of rope tightening across my face. I have no choice but to breathe through my nose. I can feel the car moving and rustling on the road.

Tears prick my eyes when “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails begins to play. Tears crest on my lashes because I can't undo the ties from my hands or feet. I panic trying to slide my hands free. When I see that it's no use, sobs tear through my chest.

I can feel a hand on my shoulder, and I jerk away and bump into something hard and solid to my right. It takes a moment to realize that I'm sitting in between two of them. They were sent to kill me. Tears are falling with every sob that bubbles up, muffled because of the ball of fabric in my mouth. I think of Alaric, hoping he finds out that I was taken by the Consortium. I feel stupid for telling him I would get off an hour later.

I close my eyes and pray.

After twenty minutes, the SUV stops, the engine cuts off, and I hear doors open and close. I try to jerk away when someone's hands touch my shoulders. Then I'm grabbed. It's dark, but whoever is carrying me is strong. To him, it's as if I weigh nothing.

I try to see through the hood over my head to find out where they are taking me, but it's too dark. No light filters through, and when they put me down, I try to take a step to see if I can run, but it's no use; I fall hard to the ground and hit my shoulder.

It was stupid, but I had to try.

I'm picked up and carried, hearing his footsteps. I hear a door swing open and more footsteps, and I'm placed on what feels like a bed. Dread snakes through me, wondering what they will do and why.

After ten minutes, the rope around my head is removed, releasing the gag, and the hood is snatched off my head. My eyes try to adjust to the gloom of the room. I blink a few times, trying to acclimate my eyes. There is only a stream of light from the window coming from an outdoor light, and when my eyes finally focus, a cold knot forms inside my chest, sinking to my stomach.

The six men in plague masks and cloaks are standing at the foot of the bed, watching me. I'm not one to beg, but right now, I can feel panic gripping me in its clutches, telling me to plead.

"Please," I whisper. "If you're gonna kill me. Make it quick," I say in a shaky voice. Tears slide down my wet cheeks, mixing with the ones dripping from my nose.

They all shake their head. Sobs begin suffocating me. One of them reaches out with a gloved hand, and I shrink back in fear.

"No, don't touch me." I sniff. "Please…leave me alone."

Five of them walk out, closing the door. Now there is just one standing in the middle of the room at the foot of the bed. He reaches out, grips my ankle, and pulls me so I slide down to the foot of the bed. I can scream, but they will re-place the hood and gag me again. When his gloved hand slides up my leg, I kick out with both feet, hitting him in the chest. I hear him grunt. He removes his mask, and relief, mixed with a new fear, causes my blood to turn cold and my face to drain of its color. I wipe my face with both hands tied together.

"Why?" I ask.

"Because I'm one of them."

CHAPTER 27

Alaric

"You can go right in, Mr. Riordan," my grandfather's secretary says when I walk in.

"Thank you."

When I walk in, my grandfather is seated at his desk smoking a cigar. A plume of smoke hovers around his desk, nursing a scotch in his right hand, the gold ring from his pinky finger catching the light. The same one that is given to all the sons of Kenyan. The same one was given to me once I graduated with the Order's crest engraved on the top.

"You wanted to see me, Grandfather?"

"I did."

My grandfather called me while I was in my office, and there are only two reasons my grandfather would summon me here, death or money. No one has died in our family, so I will choose option two.

"Have a seat. We have much to discuss."

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