Chapter 3

The next morning, the clubhouse felt different.

Every laugh, every casual touch from Rex, was a performance.

I watched him, seeing the monster under the mask.

I had to tell Clare.

I found her in the small garden she tried to keep alive behind the clubhouse. Her hands were covered in dirt, but her eyes were distant.

"Clare," I said, my voice barely a whisper.

She looked up, a fragile smile touching her lips. "Hey, Amy."

I sat beside her on the worn wooden bench.

"We need to talk. Somewhere private."

The urgency in my tone made her frown. She wiped her hands on her jeans.

"What's wrong?"

We walked away from the clubhouse, towards the woods that bordered the property.

When we were far enough that no one could overhear, I stopped.

"Clare, what I' m about to tell you... it' s going to hurt."

I told her everything.

Rex' s words. Marcus' s complicity. Silas.

The staged ambush.

Years of calculated cruelty.

Her face, already pale, lost all color. She swayed, and I grabbed her arm.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "No, Marcus wouldn't... he loves me."

Her voice broke on the last word.

"I heard them, Clare. Both of them. They were proud of it."

Tears welled in her eyes, then spilled over, tracing paths through the dust on her cheeks.

"Our rescue... it was all a lie?"

I nodded, my own heart aching for her, for us.

"They did it to control us. To give us to Silas as some kind of... entertainment."

Clare sank to the ground, her shoulders shaking. I knelt beside her, holding her.

"All this time," she sobbed. "All this time, I thought... I trusted him."

We clung to each other, two broken birds in a gilded cage.

"What do we do, Amy?" she finally asked, her voice raw. "We can' t stay here."

"No," I said, a new, hard resolve forming inside me. "We can' t. We have to get out."

But how? The Devil' s Brigade was a fortress. Rex and Marcus held all the power.

Escape wouldn't be easy. It would be dangerous.

"We' ll find a way," I promised, more to myself than to her. "Together."

She nodded, wiping her eyes, a spark of her old fire returning. "Together."

Later that week, the morning sickness hit me hard.

I hadn' t told Rex yet. I hadn' t told anyone.

A baby. His baby. The thought was a new kind of torment.

How could I bring a child into this web of lies, with a father who was a monster?

Rex found me in the bathroom, pale and shaking.

His face softened with concern. Or what I now knew was fake concern.

"Amy? You okay, baby?"

He put his hand on my forehead. "You feel a little warm."

I pulled away. "Just a bug, I guess."

"You need to take better care of yourself," he said, his voice like smooth honey. "Especially now."

My blood ran cold. Did he know? How could he know?

He smiled, a knowing, possessive smile. "I know everything that happens with my old lady."

He didn't know. He couldn't. It was too soon.

The next day, he brought me a drink. A special herbal tea, he said.

"One of the old timers in the club, his wife swears by this. Good for settling the stomach. Builds you up."

He watched me, his eyes intense. "Drink it. For me."

My stomach churned with suspicion. This felt wrong.

But if I refused, it would raise questions.

I forced a smile. "Thanks, Rex."

I sipped it slowly. It tasted bitter, earthy.

He stayed until I finished the cup, his gaze never leaving me.

"That' s my girl," he said, kissing my forehead. "Always doing what' s best."

A chill went down my spine.

His care was a lie. Everything was a lie.

And this tea... it felt like another part of the deception, another chain.