Damnable Grace Read Online Tillie Cole (Hades Hangmen #5)

Categories Genre: Biker, Crime, Dark, Drama, MC, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Hades Hangmen Series by Tillie Cole
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Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 130761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 654(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
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I tried to savor everything about this moment.

“Shh,” I soothed again and felt a morsel of relief when Sapphira’s sobs ebbed and her breathing calmed.

“Saffy.” I guided her head from my chest and smoothed the hair back from her face. Her porcelain skin was mottled with redness, and her eyes were puffy and raw.

“Sweetheart,” I said, looking into her searching eyes and feeling my own vision glimmer. I closed my eyes, chasing away my tears, and looked down upon her again. I forced a smile. “Martha told me.”

Saffy edged closer to me, and I held her tighter. I did not think she would speak, too many seconds stretching in silence, until she said, “It . . . he hurt me.”

Those words. Those simply spoken words, packed with such a heavy confession, were my undoing. I felt the fabric of my soul rip apart as I held her in my arms, helpless to do anything to help. “I know.” I pressed a kiss to her head. Saffy placed her hand on her lower stomach. “I . . . I did not like it as Brother John said I would.”

I did not think I could take it. I did not think I could ever move from this spot. I could not let her go. I could not be sent away from her anymore.

But I knew I had no choice.

“I know,” I said again. The pathetic words tasted like acid on my tongue. “But . . . but it will get better. Next time will not be so bad.”

Sapphira stared at me in panic. “I do not want there to be a next time. Please, sister, I cannot . . . I do not think I can . . .” Her bottom lip trembled. “Please . . .”

Sister . . . The word cycled through my head.

“I want to come and live with you.” She got to her knees, her little, beautiful face before mine. She had matured since I had been here last. Her face was losing her childish features and morphing into a young woman’s. I ran my finger over her cheeks, smiling through my tears when I saw the spray of freckles dotted on her nose. A few lay on her cheeks, one larger one to the side of her eye.

It was beautiful . . . she was beautiful. So perfect in my eyes.

“Please,” she begged again. “You are my sister. We are blood, Phebe. Let me come and live with you. I will be good.”

This time I could not hold back my tears, and they fell, hot and salty, down my cheeks. “I know, my sweetheart,” I said with as much strength as I could muster. “But it is not the way. Brother John and Prophet David would never allow it.” I brought my forehead closer to hers and closed my eyes. “If I could I would take you to my home and keep you safe.” I smiled, picturing that heaven in my head. “I would care for you, and read to you at night until you fell asleep in my arms.”

“What would you read?” She laid her head on my shoulder.

“Whatever you wished,” I said, stroking the hair from her face. I kissed her head again and felt her body grow heavy with tiredness.

“I would like that,” she said sleepily. “I . . . I miss you, Phebe. I want you with me always. But when I ask, they tell me to be patient.” She shook her head. “I am not so good with patience, I think.” She sighed, nudging her cheek into a more comfortable position. I squeezed her as tightly as I could without hurting her.

“I . . .” I clenched my eyes together, ridding them of water. “I miss you too, sweetheart.”

I could not take the pain in my heart. Such devastating pain. I needed more drink. I needed to forget. The drink, the potion, made me forget.

I opened my eyes and wiped away the water clouding my vision, preparing to search for more alcohol. When my focus improved, I took in the sight before me. A thick covering of trees surrounded wherever I was. My eyebrows pulled down in confusion, and I swallowed the dryness from my throat. Nerves built inside me as I tried to remember why I was here.

This was not Lilah’s home. It was not New Zion . . .

Meister. Ice trickled down my spine and my heart kicked into an erratic beat. Had he found me somehow? A faint clattering noise came from somewhere behind me. I froze, my muscles strained.

I steadied my breathing as I worked up the courage to turn. I was not sure I could move, but I had to. If it was Meister, he would not leave me alone for long.

I turned and looked cautiously through the windows of the truck, using its body as a shield. A few yards away was a small wooden house, with what looked like a fire pit, and a couple of chairs beside it. The front door was open


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