Page 137 of Kings Fear No One
Refusing to show any sign of weakness.
“Excellent,” Abraham says once they’re down. “Have you prepared all the instruments and supplies needed for the dissection?”
“We haven’t finished grabbing everything.”
His jaw tightens in displeasure. “Then go get it.”
The two are like fucking dumb and dumber shuffling off at his command. No sense of individuality. No independent thought or questioning. They’re brainwashed like so many others who belong to the Chosen Saints.
Many of them have given their lives for Abraham and his bullshit.
Abraham steps over to the table where I’m strapped down and peers down at me. He might as well be a scientist studying his latest lab experiment. I challenge him with a rage-fueled, hate-filled glare, once again numbed to pain.
Once again more tuned into the temper pulsing in my veins.
He’s the man who ruined my life. Made me as good as a slave for years. Took away my freedom and broke me down ’til I almost chose to end it.
He’s the reason Teysha wakes up in the middle of the night in a panic if she’s alone. He’s the reason she’ll never get to live the life she was meant to live.
I’ve never wanted the destruction of something more.
I will destroy him if it’s the last thing I do. If it means destroying myself in the process.
“This will be a fitting ending, Believer Logan,” he says calmly. “Our beliefs state that the wicked must be purged from our company. You are as wicked as they come. It will be cathartic in a way. Sending you off in excruciating pain as is deserved. You will beg. You will cry. You will die a blubbering, bloodied mess on this table before me.
“And I will celebrate with my saints and believers. We will toast to the evil we have defeated,” he rambles on. “Then we will continue rebuilding our family. We will grow larger than ever before. I will ensure Believer Teysha is returned where she rightfully belongs. At my side.”
“You mean like how you already tried to buy her back?” I growl, bucking against the rope’s binds. “You think I’ll ever let you get your hands on her again?”
Abraham smirks. “How will you stop me? You’ll be… in the afterlife. Burning in hell.”
“Only if I get to take you with me, you pathetic coward!”
“Stop talking! You will talk when you are given permission to do so!”
“What’s the matter, Abe?” I taunt, my pulse pounding. I’m still struggling against the rope. Trying to find a subtle way to loosen the knot on my left side. “You mean to tell me it upsets you when I tell you about yourself? You don’t want to hear about how much of a fucking loser you are? So damn pale and hideous, you’ve got to force people to follow you.”
“Shut up, Believer Logan!”
“You’ve got to force women to have sex with you!” I crank out a husky laugh. Colder and crueler than the one he’d released earlier. “It’s no wonder with that shrimp dick that could never satisfy a woman. Why do you think Mandy sought me out so often?”
“I said shut up!”
“Why do you think Grace killed herself rather than spend another night in your bed?” I press, reveling in how his pale skin flushes scarlet. “Why do you think you had to force Teysha, tears and all, just to let you lay a finger on her? Do you think she ever wanted you? Do you think for a fucking second she enjoyed even breathing the same air as you? She hates you! They all do! You’re nothing without your cult… NOTHING!”
“WHY DO YOU REFUSE TO LISTEN!?” he roars, thrashing his arms. His white-blond hair swings like a curtain. He snatches a knife off the podium that I recognize as my hunting knife and whips around to bring it down on me. Heaving manic breaths, he peers down at me with bulging eyes. The right larger than the left, twitching as if he’s on the brink of insanity. “Say another word, Believer Logan, and I will run you straight through with your own knife! I will savor the blood that seeps out of you, and you will stare into my eyes as you die. The last thing you ever see.”
“Leader, please, have mercy.”
The soft, quiet voice is amplified in the cavernous room of the church. It echoes, sounding five times louder than it is. Enough for both of us to snap our heads toward the side door that’s just squeaked open.
Teysha’s slipped through, her summer dress wrinkled and hair windswept as if she’s spent the afternoon on the go. Her big, brown eyes are as beautiful and expressive as ever.
Abraham forgets all about me. He turns the rest of the way around, his back to me.
“Believer Teysha,” he croaks out. “Sweetheart, you have returned.”
“Yes,” she answers gently, taking a couple steps down the row of pews. Her hands are weaved together in front of her. “I realized this is where you would be.”
