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In a fit of rage, Saul snatched the phone and hurled it into the water. "I don't give a damn!"
"She has fulfilled her contract. You must release her immediately," Terrance stated firmly. "Even you are bound by rules."
Saul's expression twisted darkly and a sudden calm overtook him. He took a step closer until they were practically nose-to-nose. "We added a special clause just for her."
"Where?" Terrance spluttered.
"Page eight."
There was a tense silence as Terrance pulled out another phone from his pocket. For the first time, I noticed how worn and exhausted he looked. There were deep circles under his eyes and his entire body appeared thin and sunken. He was leaning on one foot uncomfortably. He looked terrible.
"This isn't a standard contract. You snuck this in," he seethed with anger, but Saul just had that slimy grin on his face.
"You should have been there when she signed it to go over it with her."
Terrance's mouth clamped shut, and there was an unspoken exchange between them.
"Fine," Terrance shoved his phone back in his pocket and turned to me. "They won't kill you tonight."
“Oh, God,” I sobbed, sagging in Maxon’s arms.
“But,” he continued ominously, “you will have to join the Magnolia indefinitely. They own you now."
CHAPTER 45
Summer
I stood there, my arms clasped across my chest, shaking. The water of the marsh came up to my thighs—I was naked, except for a pair of black lace underwear and a black strip of cloth across my breasts. My hair was in a tangled mess across my shoulders and down my back. It clung to the side of my face, sticky from the heat, even though it was night.
The swamp was a chorus and buzz from the bugs; and the grey, skeletal trees that Greybone Island was known for looked like bony arms jutting from the water.
Before me stood two men. Next to them—an ancient, clawed tub.
One of the men I recognized—it was Fallon. His pale skin was a stark contrast to the darkness of the night, and his eyes penetrated through me.
He was wearing his cassock and in his hands was a vial of oil and what looked like a crown of deer antlers. He raised his hand, beckoning me close. My teeth shivered, my whole body trembling—not from cold but from nerves and fear. “Come, Summer Duvall.” His voice boomed over the marsh and towards the large group of people on the shore—watching us.
I stood there, frozen, just like I had at my father’s funeral.
He stepped forward, his touch on my arm surprisingly quiet and gentle, “It’ll be okay, I swear.”
I didn’t believe him.
I shook my head. “No-o.”
He glanced towards the crowded shore, then at the man beside him.
This guy was wearing a mask, and I recognized him from the masquerade. It had only been three days since that fateful night but it felt like a month. I’d been kept in a bare room in the Blackthorne chapel furnished with only a bed and a bathroom. With no stimulation, except for a silent woman in a plain, black gown who’d brought me food three times a day.
I hadn’t seen Rook, and my fear warred with my anger the whole time. Where was he? Had they hurt him? Killed him? Or had he run off and abandoned me?
My thoughts weren’t making much sense, I knew that, but I couldn’t help it.
I was afraid and alone, my anxiety running loose inside my mind.
The man in the mask also stepped forward. The mask was the same from the masquerade—a plague doctor’s mask. He also had the same iPad clutched in his fingers.
The dark, soulless eyes from his mask made me stumble backwards, though I managed to keep my balance and my arms over my chest.
