Page 31 of Chained

Her face begins to swell, and she winces at his touch. "Just…kill…me now." Her voice shakes so hard she can barely get the words out.

He frowns at her request, looking slightly taken aback. "You wish for death?"

She lets out a small trembling laugh. "I don't fear it."

Vincent's face drops, the smile turning to a straight line as he nods, backing away and slowly pacing. The dagger is still in his grip, gently tapping the blade against his palm as he decides her fate.

Jarrod fidgets against his seat, and I turn to notice the small tear on his cheek. How they're related is beyond me. I place my hand over his arm as his hands clutch the seat. I give him a squeeze; he returns it with a small smile, a fake one at best.

"Now what do we do with the girl who doesn't fear death?" Vincent continues, backing away, and I spot the girls standing a foot away from him. I swallow hard as he gets closer and closer, holding my breath as his hands lunge towards the youngest girl, her face crumpling in horror as she clamps her eyes shut, the dagger pressed hard into her back.

"We kill the girl who does." His words are final as he plunges the dagger into the girl, her scream hollow as blood begins to pour from her mouth, the life draining from her eyes. The other girls crumble to sobs, falling to their knees as Vincent discards the girl on the ground, her breath laboured as she clings to her last moments of life.

"Take the girl to Percy's chambers." He nods to the guards who grip the redhead. She doesn't fight them—not this time. Not after seeing what her last attempts got her. Percy looks disappointed as he grunts at her. My gaze never moves as he leads her out of the double doors, only returning to the last girl, who sits beside the young girl's body, the blood pooling beside her. She strokes her hair and quietly sings to her. I can't make out the words, but I can hear the slow hum.

"Burn the body," Vincent demands of the guards, his voice cold as he returns to the table. The Order members don't speak, they barely even breathe.

"Ace, take the other girl to my office," he spits at me, not looking up as he's too busy wiping excess blood from his tie.

I don't argue. I get up swiftly, Adrian giving me a warning glance as I cross the room. I kneel down beside her, her small sobs louder now. I touch her arm gently, and she recoils, snatching herself away from me. Her face is frightened.

"Come with me," I whisper, holding out a hand as she examines it, not fully trusting it.

She doesn't move, her eyes staring at the dead girl. Blood spills over her skin.

"He'll kill you. We have to go⁠—"

She looks up, eyes bright, wet and teary.

My jaw tightens. "I won't hurt you." I stare straight into her.

Trust me. Please trust me. I need to get you out of here.

She studies my face, looking deep into my eyes like she's trying to find a part of me that's trustworthy, a part I don't know even exists. Her body sags as she takes one last glance at the girl before slotting her hand into mine.

I thank every God above that she listened, that somehow she managed to trust my words even if it felt impossible. I pull her up onto her feet, my fingers laced in-between hers, the tremble of her hands shaking my own. It feels weird to hold another girl's hand like this—almost foreign, but I let it linger there for a second before pulling away.

"Follow me," I say to her as we cross the hall, the feel of their eyes blazing into my back as we reach the double doors. I open them, waiting for her to pass through, and let them slam behind me.

Chapter Eleven

Amora

If I could go back in time, I would. I'd go back to the moment I threw the cup of orange juice at Percy; that way, the girls wouldn't have joined in. Hailee wouldn't be dead, and I wouldn't be suffocating in guilt.

It was reckless, so goddamn reckless I don't know why I did it. He had his head pressed against the bars, his tongue flicking at me in the most sexually deviant way as he described all the ways he'd make me come with his tongue. I couldn't take it, the noises. The sight of him as he envisioned the way I taste.

So I grabbed a cup of orange juice and launched it at his face. In that moment, I felt a satisfaction that good sex and chocolate cake could never bring. I'd never expected the girls to follow my lead, but they did. Whilst I was grateful then, I now know what it cost us. It's a mistake I won't make again, another choice they'd taken from me.

My body shakes as we walk through the halls of the manor. I should be looking around, trying to find a way out or at least remembering the way, but I'm not. My heart aches in a way I've never felt before, grief washing through me as the final memory of Hailee tries so desperately to seep in.

He killed her, slaughtered her like she was nothing. I don't close my eyes—I don't dare. I don't want to see her face as he slid the knife in; I don't want her screams to mingle with Rosa's.

I've known grief—hell, I'm in a permanent state of living it since my mother passed, since being torn away from my sister—but this feels different. This feels worse. My stomach twists in knots, my chest aching in a way I don't know how to stop. I should have done more to help her. Jade was strong, brave—she stood up for her, for us both, but I didn't. I just cowered away, folding in the moment he held the dagger in front of me.

I'm drowning in what-ifs and maybes. Each one nudges the sinking anchor in my chest further into my stomach. I don't know how to survive this, if I will survive it. I trail behind the man who brought me here, the same one who held my hand and promised he wouldn't hurt me—but how can I trust him, after what I've just watched? I swipe away the tears falling down my cheeks.

I need to be strong. I need to be like Jade.