Damnable Grace (Hades Hangmen, #5)

by Tillie Cole

“I want to die,” I said finally, after I didn’t know how long. I had failed. “Let me die.” A whispered request. “Help . . . me die.”

“You’re not gonna die. I’m not gonna let another one die. You got me, Red?”

“We’re gonna get you through this. We’ve been here a while already, just a little more time to go. You ain’t getting your smack, and you ain’t gonna die.”

I had seduced hundreds upon hundreds of males. Some were rougher than others—I was prepared for all—but the glint in Meister’s eyes unnerved me more than anyone I had ever met. Even Judah.

Because that was my role in this life. To pleasure the males associated with the prophet and the faith. And I was good at it. The most decorated Sacred Sister.

“We have met before, have we not?” He glanced away. “Once.” “The tree,” I said. He nodded in confirmation. A sudden rush of emotion swept into my heart. “You helped save my Rebekah.”

“You spared my life when you could have destroyed me.” Sighing, he reluctantly looked at me. “You hadn’t done shit wrong.” His words were not a balm, rather a heavy metal spike piercing my conscience. “That is debatable,” I replied.

I could not verbalize my shame, my utter guilt at being the sister who ensured that Rebekah, from a young age, became the devil-girl all in the commune believed her to be.

In truth, I was the devil’s girl. I allowed men to hurt a child; even worse, I encouraged Rebekah to believe she was evil herself. What she must have thought of me . . .

“We’re the Hades Hangmen. And your sister belongs to one of us now.” “The man with the long blond hair.” “Ky.”

“Is . . . is she happy?” I asked. AK nodded, a small smile on his lips, and I could not have stopped the tears if I tried. “She is,”

I let the relief pour from my body. She was happy. I had not known. But she was happy. I could not have wished for anything more.

“Get dressed. And then you need to eat.” The thought of food caused my stomach to roll with nausea. I shook my head, about to protest when AK said, “You haven’t eaten for nearly a week while you were coming off the smack. It ain’t gonna be easy, Red, but you gotta eat something.”

I gasped as I stared at the girl in the mirror. Her skin was dull and gray. Her bones jutted out at odd angles, and her hair hung limply at her sides. Then my eyes fell to the marks on her inner arms. Dozens of marks that marred her pale, freckled skin. I ran my fingertips over the marks. I could almost feel the needle piercing the skin and the heavenly potion slipping like pure sunlight into my veins. My body swayed and my eyes closed as I remembered how it took me away from my pain and my burdens.

I stumbled, and my eyes snapped open. Just at the thought of the potion, my cheeks had flushed. Dread settled in my stomach.

I craved the potion more than I wanted food, or water, or anything else for that matter. But then I thought of Rebekah, here in this place, safe and happy, and I made myself reach for the comb. Concentrating on her face, her smile, and the hope that Grace made it to her alive, I ran t...

Red, I thought as I stared back at my reflection. AK had called me “Red”....

I startled at the brief flicker of a smile on my lips. I was not sure why, but I enjoyed that name for me. Not Phebe. Not “whore” . . . bu...

He was incredibly handsome. I did not understand the flush that came to my cheeks as that thought crossed my mind. Men did not affect me. They never had. Yet here I was, blushing as though I did not know the touch of a man.

“And I was like, bitch! You realize how lucky you are to be fucking down there?” I laughed at Vike as he sat back in his seat. “Fucking took off nearly all of my pubes with her fucking teeth! Could have slapped the slut.” “Maybe you need to fucking trim your bush so your pubes wouldn’t get caught in her teeth, you ever think about that?”

“Fuck off.” Vike shook his head. “I’m rocking the fucking eighties bush and I’m proud of it.” “The only fucking one who is,” I said. “You know if you shave, your cock looks bigger, yeah? Pubes hide the true girth.”

Vike’s arm stopped, drink almost at his mouth, and he looked at me. “That true?” “It’s science, brother.” I waggled my brows. “Then shi...

“You laughed and you joked. You were silly and playful.” I went to laugh, telling her that’s who I really was, but the bitch wasn’t laughing. She wasn’t even smiling anymore. “You wear a mask, AK.” Her head tipped to the side as my heart slammed against my ribcage and didn’t let up. “You laughed and you joked, but your eyes . . .” Phebe reached out and ran her fingers around my eyes. “Your eyes remained haunted. Seeing something in the world that your mirth can not dissolve.”

“I watched you, wondering why you portray yourself as two people. Then I believe I found the answer—because you wish to find happiness in the shoes you fill now.”

“Not the shoes you once wore. The ones that caused you pain, blistering both your feet and heart . . . for good.”

“Yeah?” I answered, my traitorous voice fucking cut open by her accuracy. “How do you know?” “Because only someone who has walked in similar shoes, who h...

Phebe bent up her knees and ran her hands over her feet. They were still cut and marked from the ghost town. “These scars will fade, yet they will never leave. Just like you, AK. The playful attitude you find in the company of your friends will endure, but y...

“What do you recognize in my eyes?” I asked, my fucking blood draining from my face. My damn palms started sweating, and my fingers shook, the ash from my smoke falling...

“Strangers to our kind of pain, people who have yet to be thrown onto the same rocky road, will not recognize you as a fellow traveler, desperately seeking what lies at the end of the path.” She took a deep breath. “Forgiveness. But those of us who have already been walking t...

She didn’t push me. She didn’t ask what I might be hiding. No, she just ripped open my fucking chest, bared my soul, then left it out on ...

“My freckles. My millions of freckles stand out against my pale skin like neon lights in this fire’s glow.” She shrugged. “I always disliked them.” She placed her hand on her face. “Especially the ones on my face. I felt they muddied my looks. Made me stand out from the crowd.”

They fucking did. She stood out a fucking mile. But not in a bad way. After having her in my cabin for a week, I was pretty sure she was the most stunning bitch I ever saw.

“Look up.” Phebe snapped her eyes to me. “Look up at the sky,” I said again. She did. I watched as a fucking huge smile came onto her lips. “There are so many stars,” she whispered. “Imagine the sky without them.” Phebe looked at me in confusion. “Why would I do that? They make th...

“Think of your face like the sky. The freckles, the stars, only make the sight...

The stars and the scars on my feet. The scars that were hidden, gained on my journey to grace. But at least there was comfort in knowing she had them too. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel so fucking alone. All because of Red. Red and her fucking face of freckles.

“I was not a victim,” I said when my tight throat would allow. “I was complicit I watched my sister get hurt and did nothing. I am no better than those who hurt her.”

“I’ll tell you one thing, Red. Liquor is a good servant but a fucking cruel master. You keep going the way you were, and you’ll be more than fucked.” He slid his hand from my face, and I instantly missed its warmth. Sitting back in his chair, he gestured to the house. “You’re here to make sure liquor becomes your bitch again. Not the other way around.”

“You need . . .” He caught his breath. “You need to fucking laugh more, Red. It looks real fucking good on you.”

When AK kissed me, the whole world fell away. All the pain and demons that clouded my brain fell into a blissful void, locked away as the taste of him consumed me, chasing the dark.

They caressed mine as though I was special to his heart. As though I was worthy of such of affection.

I never thought I would ever understand the meaning of a kiss. How it could momentarily stop your heart from beating, or how such an innocent touch could make you feel so incredibly cherished.

“I have never been with a man who saw me as anything but someone in which they could find their release.” My stomach sank at that sad truth. “It was all I was ever meant for, AK. To give pleasure to men for our Lord’s cause.”

“Prophet David declared that certain women in The Order were meant for a special service. Revealed to him by God, as a way to bring in more members. He claimed that this scripture, particularly the words ‘fishers of men’, had a bigger meaning than we knew. He claimed that God had revealed to him that women from the commune, handpicked by him and his disciples, would become such fishers of men. Men were the goal, the prize for the prophet, and we—the Sacred Sisters—were the bait.”

“They came for me when I was ten years old.”

“I had been touched before by men. Children at the prophet’s communes were freely touched by anyone who wished to do so. There was no age that was deemed too early. In fact, Prophet David encouraged our parents or guardians to touch us first, to show us what God’s love felt like so we would not be alarmed when other men and women came for us sexually too.

“When Brother John came for me when I was ten, to tell me I had been selected to be a Sacred Sister, I had tasted grown men on my tongue, and they had tasted me. I had been touched in every way but full sex.”

“Though it was less than one week later when I was introd...

My thighs clenched together as I recalled Brother John laying me down on the bed, his naked body climbing above me. I flinched as I remembered his breath on my face and his hands skirting up my bare thigh. And I remembered his length as it pushed throu...

“For days afterwards, I tried to stay hidden in the corners of rooms. But every day Brother John came for me and took my body again. He took me until I managed to block out the pain. Until his touch and attentions became the norm for me.”

“Then the training started. Older Sacred Sisters would come to our rooms every day.