Page 6 of Buried in Blood
Reese’s question makes my heart sink to the bottom of my stomach. No. He can’t be serious.
“No. Not yet. We have to time it right. That way they’ll never see us coming,” Damien says.
His words slash through me like a blade, splintering me open. I hold my breath to keep from giving myself away.
“Sure thing.” Footsteps exit the hall. The truth of the matter washes over me. He wants to kill them. No. He isgoingto kill them.
My throat constricts as I think about what that would mean for me. A life full of Hell. Until I die. Then I’ll go to Hell again for all of the sins I have committed.
I hurry back to the chair and plop down. Damien enters right after I settle myself.
“We are going out,” he says.
“Oh… Where to?”
“The Orchard.”
Dread sinks into my bones. I try to only go there once a week on Sundays. I hate being around it. The poor helpless girls, and the sick fucking men. Bile rises in my throat at the thought.
“Awesome! I’ll go get ready.” I sound enthusiastic. That’s how he wants me. Docile. Committed. When internally… I am the exact opposite. I’m vengeful and looking for the perfect escape.
I skip down the hall, keeping my spirits high as I enter our bedroom. I shuffle through some outfits in the closet and find one that’s modest. Damien doesn’t like it when I dress like the girls he sells. He says it makes me look cheap.
I think, he thinks it’s supposed to be a compliment… but it never is.
I take one last look in the mirror and say an unspoken vow to my reflection. One that says I will never become the monster he tries to make me be.
* * *
The truck’s tires roll over the dirt with ease as we enter The Orchard.
The Orchard is a 150-acre plot of land with a scary-ass building smackright in the middle of it. Every few acres, barbed wire and bear traps are set. This is to make sure no one escapes. Damien would tell you it’s to keep people from breaking in and taking the product, but we all know it’s the other way around.
Our truck passes through the gated entrance. The iron gates squeal shut, trapping us in. I take a deep breath as we park. The air is colder here. It’s almost like a promise. A promise of death.
I jump out of the truck, kicking up dirt into the air. I cough on the dust as I make my way to the entrance. Damien waits for me. He always gets mad when I take too long. He tells me, nothing is ever urgent to me.
When really—I just don’t want anything he has to offer me. So yeah, you could say I’m not acting with urgency.
I meet his side and he pulls me in for a side hug, kissing the side of my neck, pulling the skin between his teeth. He releases it, and I give him a playful look. God. I hate pretending. I never understood the whole PDA thing. I don’t want other people to see what should be done in private.
The tall, dungeon-like building greets us with a sinister vibe. The outside is made of stone. It looks like it could have once been a church. The front door is made of steel. It seals off the innocent souls from their freedom.
The door opens quietly, and then the smell hits me.
It smells like tears, piss, and broken fucking dreams. I never want to experience living here. Ever in my fucking life.
We walk down the main hall, it is painted a dark, blood-like red. The ceiling has gothic-looking light fixtures. It looks like a dark academia prison. Something a cult leader would like.
I follow right behind him, matching his pace. We stop outside of the main office— Midas’ office.
He scans his thumbprint and enters.
The inside is decorated completely differently. He’s decorated the entire office in gold. Hehaslost his fucking mind.
I take my seat in the chair calling my name, a black wing-back chair. It reminds me of my grandma. He sits behind his massive wooden slab. The desk screams “power”.
I watch him closely as he pulls up the surveillance. The large TV displays the front gate. A black Mercedes drives by slowly, then peels off. Dante and Lucien.
