These were so much worse than the pictures of her chained in the basement. These were gut-churning, soul-destroying sketches that were drawn so eloquently that only someone who lived them could create. There wasn’t a detail out of place. There were scars on one of the figure's bodies—the figure I assumed to be Gemma. The chains hung with her wrists in them. I finally turned my back on the drawing that was half of Gemma’s face, as if she had looked into a mirror and traced every last perfect detail of herself, while the other half were the words, good girls don’t break rules, over and over again.
“Isaiah. Did you know about this?” My uncle sounded just as off as I felt.
I slowly turned back around and faced both him and Mrs. Fitz. “Yes.” I found Cade, who was still standing by Sloane on her bed, and at the moment, I felt completely drained. Hopeless. Everything ached. “We snuck into Judge Stallard’s house a few nights ago because I knew there was something else going on with Gemma. I also know he is connected to Dad, and the Covens, and Bain. I wanted more info.”
“She wanted to run away?”
I nodded and shut my eyes to hold back the emotion. “I was helping her get away from him, and then after I dealt with Dad, I was going to deal with Judge Stallard to somehow fix it all for her. But there's more.” My plans were fucking shredded. What was I going to do?
“There’s more?” Cade questioned, just as confused as my uncle.
“I need to know everything, Isaiah.” My uncle and I were feeling the same thing. I could hear it in his voice. Pure fear and desperation were coming down on us. I hardly even registered the words coming out of my mouth.
“Richard was planning on taking her when she turned eighteen. He wants to marry her, and…” I choked the next words out, dropping my head. “Turn her into Emily. Plastic surgery, everything. She found the files on his computer before she ran away the first time.” I turned my back, looking directly at her bed. “So, did Richard show up early because of you? Does he know who you are to her? Or did he show up because of me?”
There was a slight shift in air, and the next voice to hit my ears had me stilling.
“He took her because of me.”
My hand dug into the back of my shorts, and I spun around quickly, pointing the gun directly at Bain’s head.
“Start fucking talking.”