Allison Brennan
Silenced
Life is the sum of all your choices.
PROLOGUE
Marie’s lips moved in constant prayer as she maneuvered the rattling, twenty-year-old truck down the treacherous mountain road. Snowflakes swirled in front of the windshield and headlights, cutting visibility to only feet in front of her.
“Please, Lord, let me reach the highway safely. Please, Lord, silence the truck.”
Narrow paths slithered off the main road, each leading to one of her husband’s followers-serpents, all, who’d be happy to return her to their devil. One of them might hear her.
“The Lord is the Spirit and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.” Repeating the verse gave Marie needed strength. Reminded her that the Lord was her Shepherd. He would lead her and her children away from evil, down the path of righteousness, protect them all the days of their lives.
She glanced at the girls sleeping on the narrow bench seat in the back of the cab. Her sweet, beautiful daughters. The Lord blessed her, how could He have blinded her to the truth for so long?
“I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you too, Mommy.”
Marie stifled a cry. “I thought you were sleeping, sweetheart.”
“Why are you crying, Mommy?”
“I’m happy.”
“You’re praying. I’ll pray with you.”
“Thank you.”
“What are we praying for?”
What could Marie say to an innocent seven-year-old? That her father was a monster? That her father was a beautiful devil, a fallen angel? That he was Lucifer incarnate?
She was nearing the gate that she’d once believed protected her from the outside world. The snow thickened, but she was too close to slow down. The truck slid on an icy patch. Her pulse quickened, but she immediately regained control.
“Sing Mommy a song. A pretty song.”
Hannah’s sweet voice came from the backseat.
Marie passed the last road that led to the last house in the fortress. If the gate was open, they would be free.
She pressed the gas pedal. Eager. Impatient. Her heart pounded, Hannah’s song faded. Marie’s hands began to shake. The truck accelerated faster than she expected; she tried to brake but couldn’t lift either foot.
She blinked rapidly, but her vision blurred. The headlights sparkled, twisting her perception. If she didn’t slow the truck, she would crash.
She’d stopped taking the pills weeks ago, but she remembered how they felt. They distorted the truth and made her happy.
Except tonight, there was no bliss. Only anxiety. Thickness. Extreme fatigue.
The tires skidded on the slick, newly-fallen snow as the truck sped too fast around the last turn. She used every ounce of control she had to keep the truck on the road and not down the mountainside to certain death.
“Mommy! Mommy!”
“Shh, baby. Pray for me.”
Her words slurred. Her head leaned to the side.
Her headlights illuminated faces in the snow. They lined the road in heavy jackets. Horns grew from their heads, tails from their backs.
“No, no!” She bit her tongue. She didn’t want to scare her girls. The hallucination seemed so real, but she knew they were people, not demons. People who worked for the devil.
A flash of metal caught her eye. The gate was closed.
Naomi had gone ahead to open the gate, taking her bike down the mountain before the snow had started. Had she been captured? Worse? Had Marie put her oldest daughter in even greater danger?
Then Marie saw her. Standing with the devil himself, united. He’d turned her daughter against her. Twisted everything that was good and made it evil.
Fear washed through Marie as the truth came clear in a flash of lucidity.
The devil had won.
“Hannah, listen to me!”
“What’s wrong, Mommy?”
“Don’t believe anything they say about me. I love you, I will watch over you from Heaven. Protect Sara. You’re all she has left.”
“Mommy, the gate!”
With the last of her strength, Marie slid her foot from the accelerator to the brake. The truck skidded forward, sliding on the snow, and crashed into the gate.
Hannah’s screams came from far, far away.
The baby cried.
Marie’s head hit the windshield. She felt nothing except a heavy thud and warmth. Whatever the devil had drugged her with took away the pain.
Or maybe she was already gone, to a place beyond pain.
CHAPTER ONE
The whore traitor lived in a secure building with live cameras and nosy neighbors. Brian had to wait for her to leave.
Waiting made him antsy. He just wanted to get this job over and done. He didn’t hate the whore. In fact, he had no feelings about her at all. But she’d crossed the line from useful to problem, and problems must be solved.
Two hours of waiting-sitting on the park bench in the heat, pretending to read a book-while watching the
