Page 32 of Fixer Upper


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I keep going along the halls, walking as if I belong here. I pass a few men who nod at me, but none of them seem suspicious. The place is teaming with armed asshats, so I keep my demeanor as unthreatening as I can make it–not an easy task for a man of my size.

More hallways lead off to additional rooms, some of them lined with scripture, a machine shop, and others full to the brim with sacks of flour and jarred goods. I can’t tell if these people are planning for the Rapture or another Ruby Ridge, but given their fondness for weapons, I’d have to guess the latter.

When I come to the end of what must be the men’s section, I find a set of double doors with a digital punch-code lock. They keep either the money or the women behind these doors–likely both–for it to be protected like this.

The hall is still clear, and I backtrack to the machine shop. I beeline for the first toolbox I see and pull out some wire pliers and a few other tools, then head back to the door. There’s no security here other than the keypad. I suppose they feel perfectly safe here in their little hive. Not for long.

I drop to a knee and inspect the wires running into the keypad. After minimal rigging, I’m able to bypass the code entirely and trigger the door to open. I’ve cracked security systems at least a hundred times more difficult than this tinker toy bullshit. When the light turns green, I pull the double doors apart, use a screwdriver to keep it propped open, then rewire the doors to stay locked. I don’t need any of the would-be Rambos interrupting me while I find Charlie.

Once I’ve rigged it again, I enter the double doors and let them shut behind me. When the light on the pad goes red again, I know it’s set.

This area is different, not nearly as sparse as the rest of the building. Portraits hang along the walls, all of them with one older man surrounded by several women and children. I can guess what’s going on here. If it were between consenting adults, that would be one thing. Here, it’s not. The women by the pool–especially the one with the black eye–confirmed that for me. Not to mention creepy-ass Jacob. Motherfucker.

“Oh no, this dress is far too big for you. I forgot I’d altered it quite a bit bigger because Jen was very pregnant with Prophet Micah’s child when she married him, though we aren’t supposed to talk about that.”

“It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t fit. I’m not wearing it, because I’m not getting married!”

When I hear Charlie’s voice, my heart seems to kick up to double time, and I hurry down the hallway, hoping she’ll speak again so I know what door to open.

Female murmuring leads me deeper into the building.

“I’m getting us all out of here. This is ridiculous. Come on. Let’s go.”

“We can’t leave! Please, don’t. They’ll find you. The last girl who tried to run…” Her voice drops too low. I can’t hear what she says, but Charlie’s gasp tells me all I need to know.

“Why—why would they kill her?”

“As a lesson. Now come on and get dressed. I don’t want that to happen to you. Jacob–he gets angry, really angry. He’s been cruel to me before, and I don’t want him to touch you like that. It … it hurts.”

My guts wrench at the suffering in the girl’s voice. I creep to the next door.

“We have to leave, Bella.”

“I told you–” She yelps when I open the door.

Charlie turns, her eyes lighting up, and she runs to me, throwing herself in my arms. “I knew you’d come. I just knew it!”

“Bunny.” I lift her up and kiss her, closing the door behind me with my foot as I hold her close. God, she feels so good in my arms, so perfect. I never want to let her go, not for one goddamn second. She’s mine. All fucking mine. The most priceless treasure I’ve ever set eyes on.

I kiss the life out of her, stealing her breath and giving it back, holding her so tightly I fear I might bruise her, but I can’t stop. Not until I feel her heartbeat and know she’s safe in my arms.

“Rowan.” She breathes out as I pull back and inspect her face.

“Have they hurt you?” I ask.

“No.” She lifts a hand to her cheek. “I think … I think Jacob put a cloth to my face, and it made me sleep. When I woke up, I was in the car. Then here.”

“Oh no.” Bella, I presume, covers her mouth with her palm. “You’ve touched Jacob’s bride. You’ve kissed her. Oh no.”

“Bella.” Charlie wriggles, but I don’t let her go. “It’s all right. This is Rowan. My boyfriend.”

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