Page 55 of Shadow Redemption

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Page 55 of Shadow Redemption

When Ben fell silent again, Ruth couldn’t stand it anymore. She had to comfort him however she could. In her heart, she knew the hardest, ugliest part of the story was yet to come.

Turning, Ruth wrapped her arms around his waist and held him tight. “Finish it,” she whispered with her head resting against his chest.

Ben’s hold on her tightened. When he resumed speaking, his voice had roughened. “At age ten, the children are either given to the men of the inner circle to train for their own use or as sex slaves for the benefit of the commune coffers.”

Fury like nothing she’d ever felt in her life swamped Ruth. Her hands fisted in Ben’s shirt. “Did that include the boys?”

“Yes.”

“Please tell me one of the inner circle chose you for a laborer.”

“Sorry, sunshine. I can’t. The prophet’s sick son, Silas, chose me, all right, but not only for a worker.”

She growled. “Let me guess. He preferred boys to girls?”

“You got it. Punishment was harsh for not finishing work on time or according to Silas’s exacting standards. He always found fault with my work and the work of the others. The guy was a degenerate and took pleasure in hurting me and the other boys. Because he was the prophet’s son, his word was law as much as his father’s in the commune. You didn’t cross him without consequences.”

She kissed his throat, shaking in her outrage for the helpless boy he’d once been. “That’s why you said you understood about my time with Hugo. You really do understand.”

“I told you the truth, babe. I know exactly how helpless and violated you felt.”

“Did you tell your mother what was happening?”

“Of course. It took me four months to sneak off without detection to talk to her. She didn’t believe me. According to her, Silas was a good man who treated her with honor and respect as his father’s first wife. He’d never do something as despicable as what I accused him of. She told me if I said something so horrible again, she would tell him and the prophet, and let them punish me as I deserved.”

“She’d been fully indoctrinated by that point.”

“Mom bought into it all, hook, line, and sinker.”

“When did you escape?”

He stilled. “Why are you so sure that I did?”

Ruth’s laughter was quiet. “Even at ten, you wouldn’t have allowed an adult to abuse you if you could find a way to stop it. How long did it take you?”

“Two years. I plotted, planned, and waited for my chance, all the while finding ways to increase my strength. Silas was over six feet tall and weighed a good 250 pounds. I knew I would only have one chance. If I failed to escape, he would either punish me until I broke or kill me. The boys in his care were nothing to him. There would always be a new crop the next year if the current ones didn’t make it. Of all the boys in his home, I was the one he disliked the most. Because of Mom’s favored status with his father, Silas made sure the bruises and whip marks didn’t show and he was careful to keep me alive and functional.”

Another kiss to his throat to make herself feel better. “And no one in the commune questioned what was happening to you and the other boys?”

“No one dared. In the meantime, I endured whatever he dished out, knowing one day I would be big enough and strong enough to escape him and the commune.”

“What about your mother? Did you have any interaction with her?”

“I kept an eye on her and my sister to make sure they were safe, but didn’t try to contact either of them again. Silas didn’t allow his boys enough freedom to be out of his sight for long. To escape, I had to remain as free from injury as possible. My chance came the night of another coming-of-age party when I was twelve. Silas chose three more boys and planned to start their training that night. First, though, he decided I hadn’t completed some task to his liking and started with me.”

“He didn’t...”

“No. I was prepared. I had stolen a sharp knife from the kitchen earlier in the evening. When Silas came to my room, I fought him off and ended up slicing his jugular vein. By the time I gathered what little belongings I owned in my backpack, Silas was dead.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Ben refused to look down at Ruth after his revelation, not wanting to see the condemnation in her eyes or, worse, disgust that the man who held her had killed a man at the age of twelve. He tightened his hold, storing the feel of her wrapped in his arms in case she wised up and kicked him to the curb, knowing what was left of his heart would shatter when she did.

“You’re sure Silas is dead?” Ruth asked.

“Oh, yeah. I’m positive.” No one could have survived that much blood loss and lived.

“Good.”




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