Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Abandoned a century ago, it was left in rubble and ruin. He said the gate still stood to protect the dark secrets that loomed behind its bars. Secrets about a high-ranking monk who had fallen in love with a village girl. The religious order condemned their relationship, separating them. But the lovers had found a way to steal a night together, and within the sacred walls of the monastery, they’d killed themselves.
The old man claimed the lovers could still be heard in the crumbling foundation. He called it a silent, unified heartbeat in the midst of devastation.
She knew it was just folklore. Whispered words among superstitious locals. But the story resonated with her. If Tiago put Tate behind gates, it would be those gates. She believed it down to the bottom of her soul.
Problem was, the old man wasn’t exactly sure how to find it. He’d never been there, and his directions were approximations. She and Cole had been circling the desert for days.
“Find a road that goes that way.” She pointed at the formation on the horizon.
With a sigh, Cole handed the papers to her and shifted the jeep into gear.
An hour and several wrong turns later, he slowed along a rocky road that ended on a hill. At the top of the incline stood two towering pillars of stone. And between them hung a massive wrought iron double gate.
“This is it.” Her heart slammed against her ribcage, and her hand shot out to grip Cole’s arm. “Those pillars… I remember them on his back.”
She couldn’t breathe as she fumbled with the door handle, shaking all over with urgency.
“Lucia, wait.” He caught her wrist, stopping her from scrambling out of the jeep. “If he’s here—”
“He is!”
“—there will be guards. Security. We don’t know what’s up there, and they probably heard us approach.”
With panting breaths, she opened the glove compartment and removed a 9mm gun.
“I’m going in alone.” He drew a pistol from one of the many holsters he wore. “Stay in the car.”
“Not happening.”
After spending three months together, their power exchanges had fizzled into a laughable waste of time. He barked orders. She barked back. Then he stormed off, grumbling about how he should’ve never taken this job. Which he did now as he slid out of the jeep, tossed a backpack over his shoulder, and crept up the hill with his gun raised.
The sun beat down on her neck as she followed behind him. Then they separated, seeking the concealment of the pillars on either side of the gate. The gun rattled in her hands, and the atmosphere was so dry it burned her lungs.
Beyond the heavy black bars sat clumps of simplistic, boxy structures made of stone. A passage of archways cut through the largest building at the center. Two wings of corridors spread out from there, connecting smaller, one-room buildings. No doors. No bars or glass on the windows. And from this vantage, there didn’t appear to be a roof on the main belfry.
She scanned the perimeter. No cars. No people. No signs of life whatsoever.
Her gaze locked with Cole’s where he stood on the other side of the gate.
No one, she mouthed.
Muscles bounced along his jaw, and his shoulders loosened. The disappointment on his face made her stiffen. He’d already decided they had the wrong location.
“I’m not leaving until I look around.” She stayed alert as she sidled through the two-foot opening in the sagging double gate.
Arms locked in front of her with the gun trained, she made her way to the ruins on silent feet. Cole trailed at a distance as she crept through the largest building.
The scent of dust and baked earth permeated the air. Loose gravel crunched beneath her boots, and birds took flight in the open rafters. Very few plants grew in this region, but something twiggy and leafless had vined its way up the stone walls toward the open sky.
The altars and benches and pots were long gone. There was nothing. No indication that anyone had been here in decades.
Desperate and tense, she continued moving, passing through the decaying corridors and rooms that would’ve slept rows of monks on spartan beds. A century later, this monastery only housed families of birds. Nests made of spindly shrubs lined what was left of the rooftops.
She searched everywhere for a hidden door, a basement, someplace that could house a prisoner. When her quest brought her back to the main tower, she let her head fall back on her shoulders and stared at the pale sky peeking through the rafters.
Why isn’t he here?
She’d been so certain. So damn amped up with hope.
The thud of her heart drummed in her ears, growing stronger, louder in the silence.
A silent, unified heartbeat in the midst of devastation.
A tear trickled from her eye. Then more fell, tracing sluggish, crooked lines down her cheeks and clinging to her throat.