Page 25 of Choke

Those steel orbs shrouded by black lashes tug at a locked box in my mind. A memory teases the outer edge of my mind before vanishing like a wisp of smoke. Iknowthis man. Intimately. My body recognizes him on a fundamental level, even while my mind rebels against the truth.

He doesn’t respond, and the silence thickens until I feel like I’ll suffocate.

Finally, he clears his throat. “I no longer take orders from unscrupulous men.”

A small sound escapes my lips, but before it can become a roar, my throat locks up, and the past my brain has compartmentalized unleashes in a tidal wave of memories.

I’ve been here before. I used my body to persuade two men to protect me. Under duress, I would admit that the sex was spectacular. But sex doesn’t make bad men good. And I suddenly know who this man is.

Callum.

An agonizing scream pierced my ears. The woman was in pain; her wails twisted with horrific edges of unbearable agony.

“This is for the greater good, Serena. You want to be enshrined in his divine light, don’t you?”

The shrill, pain-laced scream was one of the most tortuous sounds I’d ever heard, and I’d heard many calls of suffering and dread. I was born into it.

“He’ll do that to you.” a deep voice murmured.

I turned to stare into the slate eyes. A shiver ran through my body.

He tucked my hair behind my ear and whispered, “Tell him what he wants to hear so I don’t have to hurt you. Claim him as the Messiah.”

Callum’s voice was hushed, almost pleading, a broken element in every word he uttered. I hated that a part of me wanted to do what he asked because this was the man who’d had no issues holding a gun to my head. If he’d been ordered to pull the trigger, he would’ve worn my brain matter on his shirt like a badge of honor.

“I can’t,” I whispered.

“It’s only words. Just fuckin’ do it. Say them.”

A lump formed in my throat, choking back my words and leaving me hollow and speechless. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t utter the words. I hated being so weak, so unsure of who I was, that I faltered when it really mattered.

I shut my eyes and contemplated that death might not be so bad. At least then, nothing would matter. I would no longer need to conform to belong, something I’d strived for from the moment my family moved to America.

The loudspeakers blared to life just as I thought I was experiencing my final fleeting moments before my demise.

“We have a traitor in our midst. We have captured the person who has harmed our community, and they will be punished. Now, we must pray.”

Bile rose in my stomach as a chorus of chants echoed above me.

“Eternal rest grant unto them, oh, Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May their souls and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.”

A large hand clamped around my mouth as a tortuous scream bounced off the walls, followed by a loud snap.

“I’m gonna need you to say calm,” Callum whispered. “Nod, so I know you understand.”

I nodded, though I didn’t comprehend his words. All I knew was that I was lying on the cold cement floor, listening to God’s words before a human life was extinguished. It was a torture Marcus hadn’t used on me. It was the one abuse that would’ve made me crumble and abandon my will to fight.

The steel-eyed man removed his hand from my mouth as silent tears cascaded down my cheeks, blurring my vision.

He tilted his head, examining me in earnest. “Why are you crying?”

I remained silent, unsure if I could speak past the intrusive knot in my throat. I swallowed, gasping for breath until the words fell from my lips. “Why did he pray before he killed her?”

He shrugged. “They do that for heretics who disturb the system. She went against the norm, and they cannot tolerate dissenters. Anything to stop a domino effect.”

I tried to collect myself, but I couldn’t stop crying. Memories I’d desperately tried to forget over the last fifteen years crashed over me, forcing me to admit truths I’d tried to bury. “That’s how they killed him.”

Two brawny arms wrapped around me, pulling me against a warm body. A large hand rubbed my back as I continuedto cry. The man who’d held a gun to my temple not too long ago was silent, simply offering the comfort of his embrace as I remembered watching the first man I ever loved executed.

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