Fight Dirty (23 page)

“Bree was murdered?” That explained so much. But who killed her? And why? “You’re sure it wasn’t her parents?”

“No. They have an alibi.”

“Green
e’s
on his way to get me out of here. But
I’d
appreciate it if one of you came as well. I don’t trust him.”

“I’ll grab Jenna and head right out. Are you safe?”

Footsteps sounded from the hall outside. Morgan hung up without answering his question and turned the lights off, hiding beside the door.

“Did you see what your sister did to that new girl?” Reverend Benjami
n’s
voice came. Sounded like they were right outside the door. “You need to man up as head of the family and control her.”

“Like you do?” Sean Chapman answered. “You’ve got her so twisted, she believes your crap. Thinks sh
e’s
saving souls.”

“What goes on between us is none of your business. Your job is to make sure things run smoothly around here. Which means no more lawyers, no more parents raising hell, no more curious eyes prying into our business.”

“Then we might have a problem. The release papers came through on Micah Chase. We can’t stall any longer. H
e’s
out of here tomorrow.”

There was a pause. Micah was being released? Morgan was torn. It was a strange feeling. She wanted him out of this cesspool. But she wanted him here. With her. Good thing she was leaving as well.

“Exactly my point. If you kept your sister in line like I told you, stopped all this Purge crap, he wouldn’t have seen anything and we could have pocketed the count
y’s
money, sent him on his way.”

“So you want me to let him go?”

“I want you to do your job and take care of the problem. I don’t care what it takes. Make sure he doesn’t talk.” The two men continued down the hall, out of range of her hearing.

Make sure he doesn’t talk.
What did that mean? Didn’t matter. She was on the wrong side of the locked doors to help Micah.

She could finish her job, wait for Jenna and Andre or Greene to arrive, and hope they were in time to save Micah.

Or she could forget about her own escape and go back and save him.

Save herself or save a sheep? No-brainer. At least it should be. Yet, she hesitated.

With the evidence she had to shut down ReNew, sh
e’d
save not only Micah but all the kids held here if she stuck with her plan.

Weird. She couldn’t remember ever needing to talk herself into doing anything before. Usually she did what she wanted, dealt with any consequences later. Second-guessing wasn’t in her nature.

She shook her head. Micah would be fine.

Another set of footsteps passed the door, this time headed down to the end of the hall where the door to the chapel was.

When the hall went quiet again, she eased the door open. The corridor was empty. She stepped out and sidled down the hall, away from the chapel. The office supply closet would be a good place to hide and wait—it was obvious no one had been there in a long time. No. Better to sneak out of the building and catch her ride beyond the security perimeter.

She glanced down at her bare feet. Maybe a quick stop at Chapma
n’s
room to steal a pair of socks and a coat first. Sh
e’d
almost made it to the end of the corridor when Reverend Benjamin came barreling around the corner, colliding with her.

CHAPTER 42

T
he good Reverend Doctor may have been a self-proclaimed man of God, but somewhere along the line, Morgan would bet good money that h
e’d
worked as a bouncer in a not-so-nice bar.

Her first instinct was to dodge past him, make a run for it. For most men caught off guard, that would have worked and she would have had a nice head start.

Not the Rev. As Morgan moved one way—playing the odds and going for his presumed weak side, his left side—he pivoted with her, lunging and grabbing her shoulder and elbow, twisting her arm behind her so that her own momentum worked against her.

She didn’t try to resist—there was a damn good reason moves like that were called compliance holds. Fighting it would only lead to a lot of pain and a dislocated shoulder. Instead she played the sheep and went limp, faking a whimper.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded.

Morgan thought fast, putting together the pieces Deidre and her brother had dropped like bread crumbs, and bluffed, “Deidre told me to come to the chapel. Said you wanted to see me for a special counseling session?”

The Rev straightened, pulling Morgan along with him. “She did, did she? We’ll just see about that. Come along.” He dragged her down the hall to the side door leading into the chapel.

It didn’t look much like a place of worship on the inside. Other than a small single-person kneeler in front of the altar, there were no pews. Instead there were fancy lights, like what professional photographers used, and two cameras on tripods. Which spoke volumes. Morgan remembered the clip of Deidre sh
e’d
seen earlier. The Rev had had his hands full, whipping her, yet the camera had panned in.

Deidr
e’s
brother, Sean? And she thought her family was sick.

Keeping her head low and her posture submissive, hiding behind her hair as it fell over her face, she scanned the room. Above the kneeler, chains hung from the ceiling, ending in thick manacles. In the far corner, near the door leading into the locked student area, was a dog bed. Hanging from hooks on the walls near it were several dresses. So this was Deidr
e’s
home when she left the students.

But what most attracted Morga
n’s
attention was the table between the kneeler and the altar. It was covered with a white cloth, and arranged on top were a variety of torture instruments, including one of Morga
n’s
own favorites: a curved-blade fillet knife.

If she could get close to tha
t . . .
But the Rev didn’t give her a chance. Keeping a tight grip on her, he hauled her to the center of the room near the kneeler.

“Deidre!” he bellowed. “Get out here!”

A door beside the main doors opened. There was a tile-walled bathroom behind it. Deidre appeared, wiping her face with a paper towel. Her color was pale, and one hand rubbed her belly. Morgan had a feeling she had a pretty good idea why Deidre was so desperate to escape ReNew.

She almost felt sorry for the girl. Almost. Except Morgan made it a rule to never feel anything for fish, and tha
t’s
what Deidre really was.

Deidre didn’t want to save herself. Deidre wanted to save them all. She was a true believer. And someone along the line—probably her brother or the Rev, or both—had convinced her that the only path to salvation lay through pain and suffering. Through being broken.

All those “confessions” sh
e’d
purged from the kids at ReNew, Deidre truly believed them. Because her own world was so twisted and corrupt, she imagined all of the other kids at ReNew were also sinners, deserving of punishment.

“I came like you asked,” Morgan told Deidre, hoping the other girl would play along. “I came to carry the burden.”

“Is it true?” the Rev asked. “You asked her to come here?”

Deidre looked from Morgan to the Rev and back, still wiping her face with the paper towel. Then, she slowly nodded, her gaze locked with Morga
n’s
, not the Re
v’s
.

Morgan knew sh
e’d
won. Her first impression had been so wrong. Deidre wasn’t like Morga
n’s
father, not at all. She was more like one of his victims—no, h
e’d
never been able to warp any of his victims’ minds so completely, except one: the woman h
e’d
married, his ultimate accomplice.

Deidr
e’s
mind had been warped by two men: the Reverend and her brother. Morgan suspected Bree had begun to sow seeds of doubt—could Morgan capitalize on those now?

The girl dropped the paper towel and stumbled across the space separating them. She reached a hand to stroke Morga
n’s
arm as if overcome and beyond words. Then she took Morga
n’s
hand in hers, and the Rev released Morgan.

“Well, now,” he said, moving to set up the cameras. “This is an unexpected present.” His tone was one of a man totally focused on his task—a task that unfortunately put him between Morgan and the knife.

“I only ask one thing, Deidre,” Morgan said. Sh
e’d
have a better chance taking down the Rev if she didn’t have to worry about Deidre—the girl was too unstable to rely upon. “He sent your brother to kill Micah. You can’t let that happen.”

The Rev scoffed. “I sent Sean to counsel him. Deidre knows ther
e’s
a price to be paid by the wicked. Micah Chase refuses to repent. He can’t leave here until he does.”

“H
e’s
done nothing wrong except refuse to let you break him.”

“Of course, tha
t’s
what a sinner like yourself would say. Deidre knows better.”

Doubt crossed Deidr
e’s
face. “Please,” Morgan whispered. “Save him.”

“I can’t do that,” she whispered back, her voice filled with fear rather than condemnation. Then she straightened and said in a loud voice, “Micah must finish his penance before he can leave. We can’t let sinners like you loose on the outside world.” Deidr
e’s
words emerged like the recitation of an automaton. The Rev grinned in victory and turned to face them both, hands on his hips and a wide grin on his face.

Morgan could almost see him relishing the possibilities. Two girls, his to break. She needed him focused on her and her alone.

“Mica
h’s
not who you should worry about,” Morgan said. Time to act the wolf rather than the sheep. As a wolf, she had something of value to offer the Rev. If she could convince Deidre to give her something in return.

“Ther
e’s
only one sinner here worthy of your attention.” Morgan focused on breathing in time with the Rev, blinking at the same slow speed, mirroring his posture, until he finally began to nod in time with her. She knew what he wanted, and it had nothing to do with salvation or forgiveness, but she needed to keep up the act for Deidr
e’s
sake. And to buy time. How long would it take Jenna and Andre to get here? Or Greene? “The greatest sinner of all. Me.”

“You?” Deidre gasped in confusion.

“Me. Do you know who my real father is? I’m sure you’ve heard of him. Clinton Caine.”

Deidre looked puzzled. Seven years with no contact with the outside world, Morgan reminded herself. That was okay; Deidre wasn’t her target. Benjamin was—and he took the bait, eyes wide, mouth gulping open and shut again like a goldfish.

He threw his hands into the air. “Thank you, Lord, for this opportunity to redeem this sinner.” He smiled as if accepting a gift from heaven above, then turned to Morgan. “Daughter of Eve, you carry the greatest sin of all. I can’t risk you carrying the serpen
t’s
venom to the innocents of the world beyond.”

“I
t’s
okay, Deidre,” Morgan said in the same low, hypnotic tone sh
e’d
been using on the Rev. “Everythin
g’s
okay. I understand now. I need my sins purged. I’m ready.” She dropped her voice and turned her head so the Rev wouldn’t hear. “No
w’s
your chance. Go. Save Micah and the others. And your baby.” She nodded to Deidr
e’s
belly.

Without waiting for Deidr
e’s
response, Morgan faced the Reverend and did the one thing she never dreamed sh
e’d
ever do. She knelt and raised her hands in supplication. “Please, Reverend Benjamin. Ther
e’s
no time. Please save me. Cleanse my soul. Erase my sins.”

A shiver raced down her spine. His smile was exactly the same as her fathe
r’s
when he caught a particularly juicy fish, one who would pleasure him for a long, long time.

“With his house being closer, Greene has a twenty-minute head start on us,” Andre said as Jenna drove them out of the city. Andre tried calling Robert Greene again. So far, no luck. Greene, like Morgan, had gone radio silent.

Leaving Andre with a bad feeling. A nervous itch, like he used to get before going into battle.

“What makes you think that Greene getting there first is a bad thing?” Jenna countered. “Doesn’t that mean the cavalry is arriving faster to save poor defenseless Morgan?”

Andre didn’t take the bait. They both knew Morgan could be in trouble. He gave up on Greene and switched to monitoring the transmitters Morgan had planted. Nothing but silence from the one and normal background noise from the other.

His phone rang again, the sound shrill against the hum of the highway beneath their tires. He answered and put it on speaker. “Morgan?”

“No. I
t’s
Nick.” The psychologis
t’s
voice was strained. “Caren tried to kill herself. An overdose.”

“Shit. Is she okay?”

“The paramedics think so. But tha
t’s
not why I called.”

“What?”

“While I was dealing with her, Robert took off.”

“Morgan called him; he went to get her out of ReNew.”

“I don’t think so. Andre, he had a gun.”

Andr
e’s
itch disappeared. No time for worry when there was an objective to achieve. “We’re on it.”

Jenna gunned the engine, although Andre knew there was no way the
y’d
make it in time. He called 911, but the ReNew compound was on the far edge of the county sherif
f’s
territory; the dispatcher estimated that it would be at least twenty minutes to get a car there—about the same time it would take Jenna and Andre.

Until then Morgan was on her own.