Every single thing they were doing was wrong and sinful.
I tried to locate Styx and Mae, but I could not see them through the thick fog of smoke.
Clearing my throat, I took a deep breath and asked, “Would you turn down the volume please?”
Not one person heard me. Not one person glanced my way.
Straightening my shoulders, I tried again. “Please! Somebody! Can you please turn off the music? I am tired and I wish to rest.”
Laughter barreled out from across the room, causing my flesh to crawl. For an instant, I thought the laughter was directed at me, but not a glance came my way. My pleas had gone unnoticed.
I was contemplating what to do next when a hand grabbed my behind and squeezed. Turning swiftly, I started to protest, when I was met with a tall blond lady… one of Ky’s women, one of the women with whom he taunted me as I watched him from the window of my cell.
I stepped back from the woman’s reach, but she followed me. She was dressed in a short-skirted leather garment, her breasts visible through the sheer black material of her shirt. Her green eyes were glazed and her lips were scarlet red.
“Now don’t be like that, darlin’. This ain’t no place to be shy. You’re so beautiful. I can see why Ky can’t keep his eyes off you. Why he wants to fuck you.”
Discomfort stole my voice as the female closed in again, her red-painted fingers attempting to free my hair from my headdress as her hard breasts pressed against my chest.
As the lace of my headdress came undone, I gasped and stepped back from my stupor, frantically retying it. I turned to flee, but I had lost my way, smoke obscuring my escape path. As I ran through the throng of drunken men and women, panic clawed at my throat.
I should never have dared come down here. It truly is a den of sin.
Men and women reached out to grab at me, ridiculed me, laughed in my face, and it only served to fuel my fear.
As I frantically searched for the exit, I stumbled across a large black machine that blasted a sound that hurt my ears: the source of the music. A flash of anger crossed my face as I gazed upon the room, then, twisting my body to reach out, I felt a long cable, which I pulled… hard.
In an instant, the music died. I breathed a sigh of relief and could not stop a small smile playing on my lips…
Then I realized the room had gone completely silent.
Feeling dozens of eyes burning into my back, I turned slowly, the black cable still clutched in my hand. The room remained eerily still without the painfully loud music, and my breathing stuttered when the men—The Hangmen—began stepping forward one by one through the smoke. I recognized the leaders by their leather vests.
The first man through had shorter, darker hair than the rest of the men and an inquisitive face. Not scary as such, but still intimidating. The second man was large with red hair and a long red beard. He was smiling at me lustfully, his teeth grazing across his bottom lip. The next man was slender, less bulky, with long brown hair and kind eyes. A bald man was next and, clutching his arm, a smiling blond lady. She looked as though she wanted to come to me, but my rigid stance must have dissuaded her. I had seen her before with Mae, from my apartment window. She seemed nice. But I was not here to make friendly acquaintances. In fact, I did not intend to be here for too long at all.
The disciples would be coming for us soon. Then everything would be made right in the eyes of the Lord. We could still be saved.
“Get the fuck outta my way! What’s going on? Who the fuck turned off Zeppelin?” a slurred male voice shouted from across the bar.
I braced as the crowd parted and a man stepped through… a familiar imposing man with long shoulder-length blond hair, tall in height, muscled in stature, his stunning face sporting a short dark-blond beard, and he boasted the most piercing blue eyes I had ever seen.
It was Ky.
As my gaze fixed on him, I became breathless. My stomach clenched and my thighs ached at the mere sight of his dominant frame.
Ky’s full lips were tight with anger as he ploughed forward, but when he broke through the front line of men and his eyes met mine, they appeared to soften a fraction, his lips breaking their seal to inhale a silent breath.
Afraid my legs would buckle due to my trembling knees, I took a step back to lean against the silent music machine.
Ky stalked toward me, his white shirt tight over his taut torso, his blue denim pants loose on his legs. As he approached, he ran his hand through his messy long hair, chewing slowly on a small, thin wooden stick gripped between his teeth.
I could not speak, could not think, could not breathe. My free hand reached behind me, resting on a shelf to keep me upright. The smoky smell of Ky washed over me. My heart was frantic and my blood rushed through my veins.