Deep Redemption (Hades Hangmen Book 4) by Tillie Cole Read Free Book Online Page B

room in staggered steps, my legs stinging and throbbing as blood rushed to my muscles.
    My gaze locked onto the wall of tallies. I counted them. “Thirty-five,” I growled, my voice now husky from overuse. I picked up my sharpened rock from the floor and slammed it against the stone wall, the sharp edge slicing into my palm. I let the rock fall to the ground.
    I was back in this cell, left to rot, caged like an animal. Stepping back, I picked up the bloodied rock and, with shaky hands, brought it back to the wall. Starting a new tally, I scraped five new lines on the wall. “ Forty  . . . ”
    I couldn’t stand anymore. I slumped to the floor, leaning against the wall. My torso and back were on fire in the aftermath of the beating.
    The silence in the cell was deafening as I sat on the hard floor, the humid air clinging to my skin like glue. The crackling of the commune’s speakers preceded an announcement; Judah’s voice came bursting through the window of my cell.
    “People of New Zion. Today’s Lord’s Sharing will commence in fifteen minutes.”
    I froze. Ice trickled down my spine when I thought of what would happen in that hall. I felt sick as I remembered the only Lord’s Sharing I had seen. Grown men raping small girls, Judah lapping it up; Sarai, his willing consort, writhing by his side.
    I closed my eyes and fought back another scream. The cell darkened as storm clouds closed in, smothering the blue sky. A fitting metaphor for what was happening to me inside. Light was being stubbed out, like a candle in a hurricane. I could feel the talons of bitterness sinking into my soul. The only other time I had felt this way was when I had infiltrated the Hangmen. Then, I had been disgusted by their sinful life, knowing my faith was the only path to salvation.
    Now I was beginning to think that as impure as those men were, at least they had honor and pride. And I was damn sure they wouldn’t have raped children in the name of Hades or the club.
    My hands shook. My chest was so tight I feared my muscles might snap. It amazed me how quickly I was spiraling into darkness. I could almost feel my torn heart turning black.
    I closed my eyes and rested my head against the wall. I tried to will myself to sleep, just to get the hell away from this crushing reality, if only for a while. But my ears pricked up when I heard a sound coming from the cell beside mine. I frowned. I was alone in these cells, wasn’t I? No one but the guards had been here since I was imprisoned. The guards, and apparently the new people that were preparing food.
    I listened harder. I didn’t hear anything at first. I thought I must have mistaken the sound of the guards for something else. But then I heard it again.
    I pressed my ear to the stone. Small sniffing sounds drifted through the thick wall. I listened more closely, making sure it wasn’t the pain making me imagine things. But I heard it again, accompanied by a light cough.
    My pulse beat faster. There was someone there. I shuffled forward, searching the wall. At the bottom of the cell, there was a small gap where some old cement had worn away. I lowered my chest to the ground, trying to see through. The gap was too small for me to see anything, but as I pressed my ear to it, I could hear the sounds more clearly.
    Someone was crying.
    Music sounded from outside, signaling the commencement of the Lord’s Sharing. I closed my eyes, trying to push away the images of what would be happening there. The crying through the wall seemed to grow louder.
    “Hello?” I said, wincing as the word scraped at my raw throat. I swallowed in an attempt to wet my vocal chords. The crying stopped. Straining my ears, I caught the sound of shuffling.
    “Hello?” I tried again. “Is someone there?” I became frustrated as my voice came out too weak and too quiet. I pushed myself closer to the wall, my chest pressing against the stone. I took a deep breath.
    “Yes . . . someone is