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Chapter thirty-one
The outside of the church looked like an oversized mausoleum with its stone-gray exterior and tall Roman columns. I hadn’t recognized it until now, but The Chamber in Green Wood Cemetery where Mischief Night was held was nothing but a smaller version of this place. Coincidence? Probably not. There was no such thing as coincidence with the Brotherhood.
My phone pinged again as I pulled up near the church.
[emailprotected]: West entrance.
And just like the last one, this message disappeared as soon as I read it.
I got out of my car and stared at the heavy wooden doors of the west entrance. It was hidden in an alley, lying in the shadows. The tall buildings around me shrouded it in darkness. Most of these buildings were residential, making this part of the city quiet this time of night.
My skin bristled at the spiny silence. There was no telling what waited for me on the other side of that door, but whatever it was, I had to face it. My pride didn’t give me a choice.
I’d studied sports my whole life. I played football in high school and college. Predicting winners was my job.
Winning wasn’t all about skill.
Winning was about strategy. To be the best, you had to beat the best.
To beat them, you had to get inside their head, predict their next move before they made it. And they’d just sent me their game plan in a matte black envelope.
That was my strategy.
That was why I was here, ready to dance with the devil.
Determined.
Focused.
Unafraid.
Nothing they could do could hurt me. I’d already been dancing with my own demons for years.
“I guess we’re both looking for forgiveness.” Anniston’s sweet voice penetrated the silence.
I jerked my head in her direction. She stood in the alley, the moonlight glinting in her brown eyes and catching the delicate lines of her face. She wore that same baggy white t-shirt she was wearing the first night I’d barged into her room and a pair of tight blue yoga pants that hugged her curves. Her hair was in a messy pile on top of her head, and she looked like she hadn’t slept. But fuck. She was beautiful. And beauty had no place here tonight.
“What the fuck are you doing?” She had no idea what she had followed me to, what these men would do if they found her here.
“I heard what you said on that voicemail.” She glanced around, then lowered her voice, as if someone might hear. “About the Brotherhood. I’m here to help.”
I scrubbed a hand over my face. “You weren’t supposed to hear that. How did you even get here?”
“A cab.” Her face lit up in a proud smile that made my dick twitch. “Don’t worry.” She held a black plastic card in the air. “I paid him.”
I snatched the credit card from her hands and glanced at the name, atmyname. She’d had it since the day I left it with her at Dior. The day she bought that goddamn dress that oozed sex.
“You need to leave.” I shoved the card back at her. “Get another cab.”
She ignored it. “I don’t need a cab. I’ll leave when you do.”
Of all the times she’d tried to escape, she chose this one to actually succeed. God, I wanted to strangle her.
A man dressed in a dark red cloak that was draped over a black suit stepped in front of her.
Where the hell did he come from and how much had he heard?
“How did you get outside?” He grabbed her arm and squeezed so tight she winced. “Get back inside with the other girls.”
