Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 102901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Gabriel’s eyes scanned the letter. Raphael paced the room. Miller was watching him; he could feel it. But he didn’t care. He needed Maria back. His mind raced to the previous night. He had told her she would never leave him ever. Her in the coffin . . . in the bath . . . in his arms . . .
He squeezed his eyes shut and saw each word of her handwritten letter in his head.
Raphael,
I will return to you. I want to say that first. I am not running away. I have gone to inform the bishop about the Brethren. As a novitiate sister of the Catholic Church I cannot have their atrocities on my conscience. The right people need to be told so they can be stopped.
I have seen what they have done to you and your brothers. No one should have to endure what you seven have—especially not innocent children.
When you read this I will hopefully be with the bishop. I will return to you as soon as I can. I will memorize my way back to the manor. I will not tell anyone where you live or anything about your way of life. You have my word.
Always,
Your Little Rose.
Gabriel placed the letter on the desk and ran his hand down his face. “What was she thinking?” He sank into his chair. Miller read the letter.
“We’re going to get her,” Raphael said. “We’re going to Boston and we’re bringing her back here.” He was fire lit from within. A burning effigy of rage.
“Let me make some calls. We’ll find out if she made it to the bishop’s residence.” Gabriel picked up his phone.
Raphael burst from the office and went to dress. He threw on sweats and a shirt. When he came back down, his brothers were in the dining room. “What’s happening?” Uriel asked.
“She went to tell the bishop about the Brethren.” Raphael poured himself a strong black coffee. He drank it like a parched man drinking water, ignoring the scalding of his throat as he drank the caffeine down.
His hands shook. He launched the mug against the wall, the china shattering on impact. Raphael paced the floor. But with every step, he grew more and more agitated. Something was wrong. He knew something was wrong.
“Have you told Gabriel?” Diel asked. His neck cricked from side to side under his heavy collar.
“He’s finding out where she is.”
The room plunged into silence, until, “You told her?” Raphael stilled and looked up. Sela was watching him. “You told her what they did to us? The Brethren?”
Raphael opened his mouth.
“I did.” Gabriel entered the room. “I told her what they had done to me. I didn’t say anything about you six.” Raphael stared at the floor. She knew. She knew what Father Murray had done to him. The scars, being pinned down . . . why he needed pain.
He struggled to breathe.
She knew, and she hadn’t turned him away. She hadn’t been repulsed. She’d held him, kissed him . . . let him inside her.
He was lost to his heavy, racing thoughts when Gabriel stopped in front of him. Raphael raised his head.
“I got copies of the security camera footage from Bishop McGuiness’s house.” Gabriel turned and headed back to his office. Raphael followed, as did his brothers.
Miller was beside Gabriel’s large computer screen. His face was pale. He turned the screen and pressed play. Raphael’s body was stone as he saw Maria, dressed in his clothes, enter the bishop’s home. Then there was nothing . . . until two familiar men walked through the gate.
“Father Murray,” Diel growled.
“Father Quinn,” Michael echoed.
Raphael’s heart thumped as he watched the screen. The van the priests had arrived in moved. “Where is she?” Raphael snarled, focusing on the screen. The screen switched to another camera.
“These cameras are protected. Someone had paid off the city to turn a blind eye to anything that happens there. Luckily we have people who can hack into anything,” Miller said, and the screen came to life. It showed the back of the bishop’s home. Nothing happened for several minutes, until the back door opened and Father Murray walked out, something in his hands. No, not something. “Maria,” Raphael snarled on seeing her in that cunt’s arms. Maria, his Maria, unconscious, being taken by the man who had made his life a living hell for so many years.
Raphael couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stand the blood rushing through his veins, making his muscles ache. He couldn’t stand the tightness of his breath or the inability to fucking breathe. His hands rolled into fists, but they were shaking as he watched footage of the van moving through downtown Boston, all the way to—
“Holy Innocents,” Bara said, and the tension in the room thickened.
“Purgatory,” Uriel added. “They’ve taken her to Purgatory.”
Raphael stood back and let the rage of seeing Maria unconscious, of seeing that cunt holding her and taking her to Purgatory, devour him, consuming every cell in his body until he burned like the depths of hell. Releasing a roar, he threw the screen off the desk, but the shattering of it against the wall did nothing to calm him down. He ransacked the office while his brothers stayed quiet.