Filed to story: The LORDS Series Free PDF by Shantel Tessier
It’s always you or them. I refuse to let it be me.
I rub my hands down my jeans and grab the knife. Even though it’s small, it feels heavy in my hand. She’s screaming and shaking the chair, but it’s bolted down so she can’t tip it over.
Grabbing the back of her hood, I shove her head forward, and she fights me, trying to straighten it, knowing what I’m about to do.
Without another thought, I press the tip of the knife to her skin and begin to cut through the brand, ignoring the way she sobs as her blood covers my hands.
It’s harder than it looks. Or they made sure the blade was dull for this very reason. I feel bone as I dig too deep, and once I can grab the skin, I cut the rest off as fast as I can.
I walk over to the edge of the balcony and toss the blood-covered skin down to the first floor. It lands at the Lords feet, and his mask looks down at it before it looks back up at me. “Now kill her.”
My stomach drops at his words. Why didn’t they let me kill her first? Why make her suffer? It’s me they want to make suffer. She’s the one who’s bleeding, but they want me to live with the knowledge I’ve killed someone.
They set you up. It’s how they own you. She fucked up and must pay for her sins. On the other hand, I will have to live with her blood on my hands until they order someone else to kill me someday.
I turn to face the hooded woman once more, and I can hear her gasping for breath around her gag. She’s sweating profusely and shaking. Blood runs down her bony shoulders, small breasts, and anorexic stomach. Even in our world, we’re always told to look their version of perfect.
We’re groomed to be whores but never give it up willingly. Men give us crumbs, and we’re expected to survive off that. They prepare us to be thankful for the bare minimum.
How does a woman thrive when she’s kept in the dark and never watered? What these Ladies don’t understand is that we only have ourselves. I can only rely on myself.
Walking back over to her, I drop my eyes to the cart once more, and I see a gun lying in the lower basket.
I pick it up. It’ll be quick. I go to pull back the slide, but it’s harder than I thought it’d be. My father had guns. Hell, he was always packing. I grew up around them, and he took me to shoot. But I’ve never just picked up a gun and pointed it at a person before. Taking in a deep breath, I yank it back and see there’s a bullet chambered. I walk behind her and face my audience below. Pressing the end of the barrel to the back of her head, I keep my eyes open and on her trembling body as I pull the trigger, knowing they’re watching me.
The gunshot echoes through the large cathedral as her head hangs forward, and I feel my soul leave my body. She’s dead, and so is a part of myself. I no longer have one. I just sold it in exchange for I don’t know what. And deep down, I know it wasn’t worth it.
Trying to catch my breath, I make my way over to the stairs to leave, but I pause when I watch as the Lord who gave me the orders stands and so does the one sitting next to him, and then the one next to him.
I take a step back, my legs now shaking for another reason. My eyes go to the dead woman in the chair-it wasn’t messy. She’s covered in blood, but it’s more from removing her brand than shooting her in the head. It was straight through. An extra thin line of blood drips from the hood and onto the floor now that she’s hunched over.
I tell myself that they’re just coming to get her. To dispose of her body in the cemetery behind the cathedral-where all members who betray their oath are buried. But that voice in the back of my mind says I messed up, and they’re coming up here for me.
The three Lords split up. The first takes the stairs to the right, and the other two take the staircase to the left. Slowly, they make their way up to the balcony, and I place the gun on the cart so they don’t think I’m going to shoot them.
The two on the left make it to the balcony first. They both come to stand behind me. “On your knees,” one of them orders.
I want to run, but my legs give out at the order, and I do exactly as they say, kneeling in front of the baptism pool.
The one who gave the orders comes up beside me and grabs a pair of handcuffs off the cart that I hadn’t noticed before. He tosses them to one of the guys standing behind me. “Cuff her.”
Before I can say anything, someone slams a foot into my back. Pressing my face to the bloody floor, he smashes my bent legs underneath me, making it harder to breathe. My arms are grabbed behind my back where they cuff them. Then my shirt is ripped and quickly removed from my body. Even though I’m sweating, I shiver at the thought of being so defenseless in front of all these men.
I bite my inner cheek when my hair is fisted, and I’m yanked to sit up in nothing but my bra and bloody jeans as the Lords from below watch. I have a quick thought that at least the baptism pool is empty because I’d rather die by a bullet than drown.
The one calling the shots comes to stand in front of me, and I glare up at him, refusing to let the tears that sting my eyes fall. I will not look weak in front of them.
“You took a brand. Now you’ve earned one.”
The blood rushes in my ears at his words, knowing exactly what’s coming. Was that a test? The fact that I hurt her instead of taking the brand myself? If so, I failed.
I close my eyes and try to calm my breathing so I don’t pass the fuck out when I hear a blowtorch turn on behind me, heating the branding iron.
This is what you wanted, Annabelle. To be one of them. To be accepted into their fucking cult.
Not every woman in our world gets this opportunity. We’re only good for spreading our fucking legs and reproducing. I get to be more than that.
I was raised to understand that the Lords will give you whatever you want. You just have to be willing to give yourself for it.
So be it.
SIX
HAIDYN
“Haidyn?”
I look up from my desk at the blonde standing in our office-Saint, Kashton, and I have been running this place for almost four years now. After our fathers passed, it was handed over to us. Well, I guess handed isn’t the correct word. We had to undergo “training” to do what we were born to have. The Lords felt we weren’t ready to take over this prison. It was a way to punish us. See just how far they could push us. The Lords are notorious for trying to break you.
Her brown eyes tell me everything I need to know. She’s been standing there for quite some time, and she’s irritated that I chose to ignore her.
She glances at her watch. “We were supposed to start thirty minutes ago.”
“I’m busy.”
She looks over at Kashton as he sits at his desk across from mine, and he shrugs. What does she expect him to do? He’s not my fucking keeper.
“Haidyn-“
“I told you last time you were here and the time before that. You’re fired, Lana.” I stand from my desk, and she takes a step back, her hand going to her chest as if I’m going to pounce on her. Fuck her or kill her-I’m not sure which one would scare her more.
“The Lords??”
“Tell the Lords that I said they can fuck themselves,” I say with a smile.
She gasps, and Kashton rolls his eyes. Lana would never hurt a fly. The woman is in her early fifties and hates her life as a Lady. She’s done something to piss the Lords off, and they’ve put her here for me to fuck with her. Sucks to be her.
The diamond on her left hand tells me she’s married to a Lord at the bottom of the totem pole-not a very powerful one but a Lord, nonetheless. So here she is doing her part for the society, and I’m making it difficult. I truly don’t give a fuck.
“I’m here to do my job.” She speaks softly as if I’m going to yell at her.
I’m not in the mood for that shit today. I just want to be left alone. Meeting her stare, I add, “You have five seconds to get the fuck out of my sight.”
She doesn’t need to be told twice. She spins around, exits the office, and slams the door behind her.
Kashton shakes his head, chuckling. “You know they’ll send someone else.”
I tune him out like usual. Life didn’t go how it was supposed to. Things went to hell years ago. It only took one woman to fuck everything up. Well, it wasn’t her fault. It was mine. But you know what they say-every story worth telling starts with a girl.
Ashtyn Lane Price was the one who changed our paths.
I have secrets that I vowed to take to my grave. I never thought I’d deceive my brothers, but it was my only option. Plus, Saint kept a big one from us that I’m sure Kashton doesn’t know about.
The door opens, and Saint rushes in. Going over to his desk, he plops down and starts typing on his computer. I exit the office, wanting to be alone. I’ve always liked my space, which is hard to get as a Lord. You live at the house of Lords for four years while attending Barrington University. After graduation, Lords get to go their separate ways except for us. The Spade brothers all live together at Carnage.
This is our prison. We’re chained to this hell. No matter what we do, we’ll die here, and we’ll be buried here. It’s the life the Lords chose for the four of us even though we’re down to three already.