The Sinners of Saint Amos - Logan Fox Page 0,189

about it aggravates the injury.

Huh. Houdini would pull off a famous escape like this in the blink of an eye. But those were all tricks. Wasn’t he double-jointed or something? He could put his shoulder out of its socket and—

My eyes swivel to my left hand. In the dark, I can’t see anything.

Oh God.

No.

Can I?

It’s already hurting so much…

But what if I managed to dislocate my thumb? Then I could slip my hand out of that rope, right?

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to build up some courage.

My thumb is probably already pretty malleable. All I need to do is pull it through the noose. It’ll hurt, duh, but maybe not as much as earlier. And the pain is—

Pretty fucking unbearable. And the agonizing ache is only getting worse the longer I linger on this stupid plan.

But it is a plan.

And it might even work.

And then I’d be free, no longer hanging here on my strings waiting for the puppet master to return.

I don’t even know what he went to go and do. Is he trashing another room? Oiling himself up? Lying in my parents’ bed and—

Fuck! Those thoughts are not in the least helpful.

Breathe.

You can do this.

Oh Lord, I hope I can do this.

I grit my teeth.

I hold my breath.

And I slowly start pulling on my left hand.

The pain in my thumb immediately intensifies a million-fold. I start shaking internally, my body fighting with me to stop the torture, but I can’t.

I won’t.

I keep picturing the Brotherhood. Determination gleaming in their eyes. The things they’d say to me right now if they knew I was considering defeat.

But the pain gets worse, and the rope isn’t budging. Pain wells, and with it comes a wave of frustration. I pull harder, the tears that brim and then leak down my face not even blurring my vision. Or maybe they do, I can’t tell in the dark.

“Ah!” The yell doesn’t echo. This small chamber is too well insulated.

But as I yell, I jerk on my arm as hard as I can.

Agony bursts into my hand. For a second, I’m convinced I’ve torn off my thumb.

I scream twice, first at that jolt of pain, and then again when my hand drops onto the mattress below me. I drag my hand onto my chest, cradling it against my chin as I let out a ragged sob. I start panting through my mouth as I try to get a handle on the pain.

That hurt more than the lashes I got from Miriam combined with Zachary’s spanking.

I force my breathing to slow. Imagine the pain leaving my body with every exhale.

My hand’s hot and throbbing, but eventually the pain recedes enough that I can think past it.

With the restraint freed, my shoulder is on the mattress now.

I laugh when I realize I have to try and untie the knot around my right hand with a hand that now sports a dislocated thumb.

Oh Lord, how I laugh.

But then I stop. And I grit my teeth.

And I push through the pain.

Somehow, using my other fingers, tearing off nails, wailing through the pain, I manage to loosen the knot.

My face is wet with tears. I think I’ve chewed a hole in the side of my cheek, but after what feels like eons of struggling and trying to ignore the red-hot pain in my hand, both shoulders thump onto the mattress.

Time’s slipping away, but I allow myself a few minutes to just lie there. Regaining my strength. Trying to get back my composure.

When I sit up and start working on my legs, there’s a burning conviction inside me.

I don’t care what it takes—Gabriel’s going to pay for this.

Chapter Seventeen

Cass

“I got a bad feeling about this,” Rube murmurs. “Something isn’t right.”

“Like the fact we’re still in the fucking car when we should be in there?” I say, rapping on the window with a knuckle. “Yeah, bud, I feel you. All sorts of fucking wrong.”

Rube throws me a glare. “We can’t just barge in there—”

“Guys, come on. This isn’t helping.” Apollo grabs my headrest and pulls himself closer, nestling between the sedan’s front seats.

We swapped out the liquor store’s truck for a silver VW someone left unlocked in a driveway. That was about an hour ago—whether it’s been reported stolen yet is anyone’s guess.

“What’s not helping is us sitting here like fucking spectators. I’m getting out.”

“Wait. Just fucking wait.” Rube opens his door and climbs out of the car. It’s a testament to how big he is when the shocks let out