30. Chapter Twenty Nine

Chapter Twenty Nine

Asher

A fter a hot as fuck three-way with Skyla and Liam, we all climbed into the shower and got cleaned up for the day. The sex was amazing, and distracted me for a little bit, but the reminder of what tonight will bring has my good spirits falling quickly.

I’m not exactly sure what will happen tonight, maybe that’s what scares me the most. I’ve been hounding Ronan for weeks, and the most he’s ever given me is ‘it’s different for everyone.’ I don’t like the fucking sound of that.

We spend the day at the house, soaking up all the possible time together, mainly because I know once I leave this house, nothing will be the same. Skyla talked on the phone with Vincent for hours, I guess he’s in Europe right now, and he won’t be home for a few weeks. That’s all he would tell her. She tried to fight the tears, but you could tell it was not what she wanted to hear.

She has this connection to Griggs that’s unlike any of our others. Not that it’s more powerful or important, just more unique. When they are together, it’s like a codependency kind of thing. Like they can finally both breathe, like a comfort only they can provide to each other and my heart hurts that my girl is so broken up.

Ronan was nice enough to make us a late breakfast, and we ordered an early dinner before it was time for me to leave. The others are meeting us at my induction party later tonight at Putnam Manor.

Oh, joy.

Slowly, I move to the car, dressed in a pair of jeans and a dark grey henley. Ronan said that they would have my robes in the tunnels for the induction. When I climb inside the car, my leg is shaking. I can’t help it; needing something to focus on. I bounce my knee over and over again as I stare out the window, keeping the rest of my body rigid and still.

“Hey,” Ronan says, forcing my eyes to him. “It’s gonna be alright. Stay silent, stay obedient and disassociate. It’ll be done, and then it’ll be smooth sailing from there.”

“What was your task?” I ask.

Ronan grimaces as he shakes his head.

“Ronan, please,” I beg. “I’ve got some fucked up shit running through my head right now. At least give me something to mentally prepare myself for.”

He clears his throat, sniffing roughly as he blinks his eyes shut. When he opens them, a blank mask is covering his features as he speaks.

“A member’s daughter was caught with her boyfriend. He was going down on her or something. They hadn’t had sex, but her father was furious. It was my job to dole her punishment.”

I listen intently, waiting to hear.

“Her father believed that if she was ready for that, then she was ready for the full thing.”

Oh, fuck.

“I had to rape her, in that room, in front of everyone, and they wouldn’t let me stop until they said enough.”

He closes his eyes once more, shaking his head as his voice comes out rough.

“She was fifteen, Ash,” he says, his voice cracking. “Not a day goes by that I don’t think about that night, that I’m not haunted by it. Her screams and pleas.”

A shiver runs through Ronan as he shakes his head faster.

“I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, ever. I…I hope yours won’t be like that.”

My stomach sours, twisting as I see the look of shame and heartbreak on my uncle’s face. What kind of fucking disgusting society were we born into? Blackmailed into staying in? Though, we know the only true escape is death.

“Me too,” I rasp.

Ronan nods, and we ride the rest of the way in silence. When we arrive on campus and park, my tremors begin to intensify. My entire body begins to convulse with fear. I hate that I can’t stop it. I’m not a bitch. I’m not a coward, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t the most terrified I’ve ever been in my entire life.

“Hey,” Ronan says as he shuts the car off, rubbing his hand up and down my back. I curl into myself, shaking uncontrollably as I try to breathe through it.

“It’s alright,” he says. “Get it out now. Get it out.”

I choke on my breaths, this car feeling too small, too suffocating. Gritting my teeth, I do my best to pull myself together. Closing my eyes, I try to think of calming things. I think of the smell of Skyla’s hair fresh out of the shower, the way Liam rests his head on my chest just before he falls asleep, my mom. The way her hugs used to feel, so warm and comforting.

Slowly, my shaking eases, and I can breathe again. Inhaling deeply, I blow out the same breath before sitting up. Ronan pats my back as I do, looking at me with concern.

“You good?”

I nod.

“Whatever you just did, whatever you’re thinking, keep thinking it. You’ll be alright, and tonight, we’ll go home and forget this fucking mess, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I say roughly as he opens his car door.

I do the same, and together, we make the trek through campus to the old church. I’ve been to the tunnels easily over a hundred times in my life, but for some reason, tonight I’m noticing things I never have before. The paintings hanging in the church, the cobblestone walkway, how several of them are broken or missing, and the ominous lighting as we open the passageway to the tunnels. A foreboding feeling like I’ve never felt before takes over, but I do my best to push it down.

When we reach the end of the walkway just before the first room, a man comes out holding a burgundy threaded robe like all of the other Elders possess. He bows his head, holding it out to me, and I nod my thanks as I begin stripping down. Once I’m naked, I slip the robe on, and the man takes my clothes, disappearing into the shadows while Ronan knocks on the door.

Slowly, it opens, and we slip inside, signing in and pressing our bloody fingerprint beside our entry. Once the second door opens, voices instantly carry through. It’s amazing to me how each room is virtually soundproof despite being built hundreds of years ago.

As soon as I step inside, all conversations die, and every pair of eyes focus on me. I walk towards the middle of the room, shoulders back and face impassive as Ronan takes his place on the side of the wall. There isn’t a table in here like there is for meetings, and there isn’t a stone slab like there was when they had Skyla in here. That’s a good sign, I suppose.

All the Elders are standing along the wall, each member beside their respective family and bond brother. My father steps up to me, all smiles as he reaches out to shake my hand before pulling me in for a hug that is so foreign to me, all I can do is freeze.

When he pulls away, he smiles towards the room.

“Brothers, what a joyous day, for not just me, but all of us. A new member, a new Elder and your future leader, my son,” he beams proudly, a look unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.

All heads bow in respect to me as I keep my face stoic and still.

“Asher Putnam, do you swear your allegiance to the Brethren? Do you swear to honor our ways, fulfill our practices, and protect our secrets?” my father asks.

“I swear,” I say hollowly.

“Do you swear to slay our enemy when given the chance and keep our people safe?” He continues.

“I swear.”

“Do you swear to enforce all law whenever deemed necessary, no matter the task?”

My stomach twists at this one, but still, dutiful as ever, I respond.

“I swear.”

My father nods approvingly before gesturing to the man at the door. I hear the door opening, but I stay facing my father, knowing all eyes are on me. Suddenly, the sound of muffled screams ring throughout the room. A woman’s screams.

Christ.

The door shuts before a woman with curly brunette hair is thrown at my feet, a white gag tied around her face and black mascara streaks running down her face. She’s wearing a white nightgown that is stained with red around her legs. I chance a quick glance to her before looking directly at my father once more.

“This woman ,” my father spits, “is a disgrace to the Brethren. She has failed to give the Ingersoll family an heir after three pregnancies, and thus, her husband has deemed her unworthy.”

My eyes move to Jackson Ingersoll, the scrawny bean pole of a man. He looks at his wife with such indignation, such disgust. The cold hate in his eyes chills me to the bone. They are kidding, right? She’s clearly having a miscarriage, apparently it being her third, and her husband deems her unworthy?

“Your task is simple. Release your brother from his bonds to this unfit woman. Set him free so that he may find a suitable wife to carry on the coveted bloodline,” my father says.

My eyes move to Jackson, back to my father, and down to this poor woman. His words are clear, and that fear I had inside me before is back tenfold, but I don’t let it show. I can’t.

I swallow roughly as I speak.

“Method of choice?”

Her sobs rip through the room, whimpering and groaning as she holds her stomach tightly.

An evil smile curves my father’s face as he looks at me.

“Your hands will do.”

I nod curtly once as he steps to the side in front of Ronan. My eyes catch his, and nothing but devastation can be seen in his gaze as he looks at me. Ronan squeezes his eyes closed, shaking his head in condolences. To her or maybe to my morality. Possibly both.

Looking down at this woman, my heart seizes in my chest. The likeness to my mother is uncanny. Then again, maybe that’s my own sick and twisted mind playing tricks on me. Her eyes, though, they’re the same shade of hazel. Her hair is even a similar color of brown.

My gut twists and turns as I look at this unfortunate woman who did nothing wrong but be born into this fucked up world. Nothing wrong but experience the loss of a child not once but three times over, and now, she is losing her life through no fault of her own. And I have to be the one to do it.

Emotion is choking me from the inside out. I can’t breathe, I can barely even see. I do a remarkable job of not letting it show. Slowly, I lay her down, easily overpowering her thin, willowy limbs as I straddle her chest.

Tears are pouring down her face as she attempts to fight me off, but she barely moves me. It doesn’t stop her from fighting; she’s so strong. Stronger than she probably knows, stronger than every man in here probably knows. Then again, the way her husband is looking at her tells me he might very well know. Another factor that no doubt has played a part in her untimely demise.

I lean down slowly, forcing a sneer on my face that I hope is convincing enough as I press my lips to her ear.

“I’m sorry. Close your eyes.”

When my head lifts back up, I conjure a smile that would make the devil himself proud as my hands wrap around her thin throat. Her eyes shut as a muffled whimper escapes her before I squeeze. She does her best to keep them closed, but I clench my hands around her as tightly as possible, forcing them to spring wide open. They burn into me deeper than any brand ever could. I can feel the terrified look etching its way into my mind, saving itself for all of my nightmares, all of my thoughts from now until eternity.

She gags and gasps, attempting to breathe, but I only hold on tighter, strangling her until my entire body begins to shake from the impact. Still, like the fighter she is, she hangs on, those pleading hazel eyes plucking at something buried deep inside. Something horrific.

So many memories of my mother with a similar look, my father’s hands wrapped around her throat, come to the surface, tearing me from the inside out.

I can’t take it anymore. I can’t. I can’t.

Squeezing my own eyes shut, I clench my jaw tight and jerk my arms sharply to the left, the sharp pop of her neck breaking echoing throughout the room. Instantly, the strain in her gives way, her entire body going limp and head lulling to the broken side. I feel my hands shaking and no matter how hard I try to stop them, they won’t.

So, I stand, forcing myself to do it slowly so it doesn’t look like I’m desperate to pry myself off this woman’s body. But I am.

I don’t realize that my chest is heaving, my breathing erratic as I look around the room, doing a full circle as I meet the eyes of every man in this room. I linger on Jackson’s for several seconds, a vindictive smirk on his face as he stares at his dead wife before my gaze comes to my father. That same sinister smile from before is practically splitting his face in two as he steps forward.

He pulls a small black box out of his robe pocket, opening it up to show me. Like a carbon copy of every other Elder ring, that big embossed ‘B’ surrounded with Latin script.

Maleficis esse mori.

Death to witches.

I don’t see any witches in this room, though. All I see is a room full of egotistical cowards and one innocent woman who paid the ultimate price of their ways.

Regardless, I pluck the ring from the box, sliding the smooth metal onto my ring finger. I never got a wedding ring, obviously, and I don’t need one. No Elder wears one. This is more important. A direct vein running from this finger to my heart, signifying my truest love, my truest devotion will always be to the Brethren.

My father nods approvingly, all Elders chanting much like they did in the woods that night.

“Maleficis esse mori.”

All as one, they stop and my father nods.

“Welcome to the Brethren.”

I stood in the shower for over an hour. Far longer than anyone wanted me to, but I couldn't help it. I had to scrub my hands twenty-two times, and even then, I couldn’t remove it. It’s worse than blood; it’s more permanent than that. This heavy feeling has penetrated into my hands, and like an inky black tar, it can’t be removed.

I can still feel her throat in my hands, the sound of her neck cracking lives in my ears forevermore. Those eyes…that look of terror and pain. That will surely never leave me, ever.

When I was finally able to pry myself out of the scalding water, I slip on some clothes that I brought with me. I have to go to this fucking party. Make an appearance. Even if the only thing I want to do is crawl beneath a fucking rock and rot.

Like she is.

Shaking my head, I make my way out of the tunnels and find Ronan waiting for me outside the church. He claps my shoulder, and I move out of his hold, continuing to move forward. I hear a heavy sigh escape him, but he follows after me silently.

When we get in the car, I look out the window, focusing on nothing and everything. Ronan climbs into the driver’s seat, starting it up and turning out onto the road when he speaks.

“I’m proud of you.”

A bitter laugh tears through me as I look at him.

“Proud? Of me? For what?”

“You held yourself together well and—”

“No, I didn’t,” I bellow. “I fell apart in that room. I’m falling apart right now. Just because you don’t see it, doesn’t mean it’s not happening.”

Ronan is quiet for a moment before he nods.

“You’re gonna be a great leader one day, Asher.”

I want to laugh at him, that’s not the compliment he thinks it is.

“I’m saying,” he continues. “You’ll be good for the Brethren, better than your father. You have the capability to be ruthless out of loyalty, but the moral compass to discern what is right and wrong. Your father doesn’t have that. You will be better.”

I take little comfort in that as Ronan drives through Salem. When we get to my father’s place, I don’t even wait for the car to stop before I open the door. I decide to use the side entrance through the kitchen so I don’t have to deal with the whole goddamn welcoming committee. I just need to find Skyla.

As soon as I push through the door, an aggressive whisper hits my ears.

“You will knock off this attitude or so help me,” a woman says before I recognize her as Calista Brenton, formerly Calista Bartlett. Maggie’s mom.

The bright red hair is the only thing they have in common. Her mom has been under the knife so many times she’s beginning to look like a ventriloquist doll. She apparently has enough movement in her face to make a scowl, though.

Harry Brenton is standing beside his wife, a matching scowl on his face as Calista continues.

“You have the audacity to disrespect one of Harry’s business partners’ sons? You’re lucky we’re even finding a match for you! Left to your own devices, you’d be living on the street within a month.”

Maggie shrugs like she’s bored.

“I’m sure I could find a kind woman to let me stay in her bed for a night or two.”

My eyebrows shoot up at her antics. Liam’s parents hate his sexuality, too, but he never goads them like that. Rage flickers in Calista’s eyes as she winds back her hand, smacking Maggie across the face. Maggie’s head whips to the side and I push fully through the door.

“That’s enough!” I snap.

Calista and Harry both startle at my presence, bowing their heads like the good little subordinates they are.

“Mr. Putnam,” Harry says as Calista keeps her head bowed.

“What’s going on in here?” I ask as I step in between Maggie and her mother and stepfather.

“Just a little family matter. Nothing to bother you with. Congratulations.” Calista smiles in a way that I’m sure secured Bridgette’s father after her husband had a mysterious heart attack in the middle of the night.

“I am concerned. I’m concerned you just struck my wife’s best friend. Lay another finger on her, and I’ll have you buried six feet under before you can even move your bought and paid for lips,” I snarl.

Calista shrinks back, flinching as I speak before Harry steps in.

“It won’t happen again. Our apologies for bringing this ugliness to your party.”

“See to it that it doesn’t,” I say, offering my arm for Maggie while keeping my eyes on her parents.

Maggie’s arm loops through mine and we push out of the kitchen, pausing in the hallway when she pulls her arm from me. She’s looking anywhere but me, her long sleeved arms crossing over her green dress.

“Thanks,” she murmurs.

“No problem,” I say as I turn to look for my wife.

Maggie’s arm catches mine, holding me back for a second.

“Don’t tell Skyla, okay? She’d only worry.”

I nod my head, pulling away from her hold as I begin wading through people. It’s not in my nature to insert myself in others’ business. If Skyla asks me, I’ll never lie to her but I’m not going to send her into a spiral if I can help it.

I see her just across the way, talking to Hutchinson and his grandfather. I waste no time in crossing the room, desperate to rip her away from this place and forget the fucking world.