Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 121153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Finally, Rider pulled back, resting his forehead on mine as we both searched for lost breath. Our chests rose up and down in a frantic rhythm. When our starved lungs had finally found a reprieve, Rider ran his thumb down my arm to my wedding band. “I want you, Harmony. Right now I can’t fucking believe you’re my wife. That we . . . that you were my first. That I just had you like that . . .” He drew his head back, and brushing his lips against my mouth, said, “So fucking beautiful and perfect. And mine. Truly mine, in every way.” I closed my eyes, relieved that he wanted me too. “But I don’t deserve you. Not even one little bit.”
My eyes opened. I wanted to correct him, tell him that he deserved me more than anyone ever could, but he was already walking toward the vehicle. He opened the door. “Get in, baby, we need to go.”
I wondered why he kept calling me ‘baby’. I had never heard such a term used toward a grown woman, yet I recognized endearment in his tone.
Baby.
Trusting that Rider knew what he was doing, I got into the vehicle, and Rider slid into the driver’s seat. As he started the engine, he kept all the lights off. We sat in darkness. Rider took a deep breath. I watched him as his eyes closed and his lips seemed to tighten. Something had him troubled; he looked nervous, maybe even fearful. It made me feel fear too.
The devil’s men.
I had no idea who they were. But then I thought of Rider’s images on his arms and it began to make sense. He knew these men. He knew them well.
I took one of his hands in mine. Rider turned to me and I offered him a watery smile. He sighed; he knew that I had picked up on his fear.
Rider brought my hand to his mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to the vanilla-scented skin. He pulled out onto the road and led us away from the prison that had held us for far too long. I didn’t let go of his hand as we traveled along the dark twisting roads.
I did not let go of his hand as I felt something dark stirring in my stomach. As I let Rider lead me into the den of evil, something in my heart told me that only pain of the worst kind awaited us at its gates.
So I kept holding on.
I vowed to hold on to my new husband with everything that I was.
I vowed to never let him go.
Chapter Eleven
Rider
A potent mix of equal parts adrenaline and dread stirred within me as we raced away from the commune. I had one destination in my mind, one place I had to get Harmony to without incident. It was the only option. I just prayed to whoever the hell was watching over us now that I got her there.
She needed to be there. After everything she had been through . . . fuck. My head swam. I had just married her . . . I had just been with her. My skin burned. It was the best feeling in the world. Yet at the same time, I felt like I had cheated her. She had given herself to someone for the first time in her life . . . and I was a fucking fraud.
I was worse than Judah in my eyes.
I could feel Harmony’s gaze on me as I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Her small fingers wrapped around mine just a little bit tighter every time she correctly sensed that I was fucking falling apart. But I wouldn’t break down. I had to keep my shit together and see this thing through. Brother Stephen, Sister Ruth, Solomon and Samson were relying on me.
Over an hour passed in silence. The outskirts of Austin came into view. I allowed myself to look at Harmony. Her back was straight and her eyes were huge as she watched the outside world whizz past us. Her hand was iron-tight in mine as she tried to drink everything in.
I remembered what that felt like. I was eighteen when Scholar Abraham had taken me out for the very first time, when he was preparing me to go undercover with the Hangmen. I remembered being so overwhelmed by the world outside that I wanted to run back and hide in The Pasture. But little by little I had gotten used to the lights and bustle of the city . . . of the mindless sinners, as I thought of them then.
In fact, the only reason I had adapted to the outside world so well was because I knew it was all damned. I was a saint among the sinners, and I believed that with one hundred percent conviction. As I stared out of the window, I too felt like I was seeing the world with new eyes. This time I was the fucked-up mess. This time I was the evil man who promoted a faith of pedophilia and rape.