Shadows of Recovery (Everhart Family #3)

Chapter 19

Nineteen

D amon paced furiously on his picturesque porch in Eldon Falls, his anger bubbling just beneath the surface. He replayed the events over and over, each memory a fresh wound to his pride.

Sophie had fallen down the stairs to the basement because he told her she wasn’t moving fast enough. Her defiance had infuriated him. She had been so close to being his grand prize, the final jewel in his crown of control. But she had fought back, even in her weakened state, and that had thrown him off-balance. He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as he remembered her stumbling down the stairs, her body crumpling at the bottom.

The sewage tunnel beneath the hospital had been his secret weapon, a decommissioned escape route no one knew about. A bar conquest who worked in the office of planning had destroyed the records, ensuring their perfect escape. The small explosive devices planted around the hospital caused enough damage to cover their retreat. As his people fled through the tunnel, a larger explosive blew up behind them, erasing any trace of their path.

He hadn’t gotten everything he wanted. Supplies and drugs for his medical clinic were now in his possession, but not enough. He had to leave some items behind. He waited a little longer than he should have.

But he succeeded in putting fear into the residents of Waverly County.

The one thing he had truly desired, Sophie Everhart, had slipped through his fingers. Her smart mouth, her defiance were more than he could tolerate. He was so close, and yet she managed to escape—well, more like he had to leave her behind. This left him with a sense of failure.

He replayed the moments in the basement and tunnel. She was so busy defying him, she fell down the stairs and broke her leg. The moment she began throwing up and then passed out in the tunnel, his anger turned to frustration. He couldn’t carry her. Not then, not with the time ticking away and the threat of discovery looming over them. He was forced to leave her behind, but the memory of her body, the way she felt when he took her, stayed with him.

Damon's thoughts grew darker, more twisted as he imagined the next time he would have her. He would have all the tools close by to break her spirit completely, mold her into what he wanted. She would learn her place, and he would have his revenge for the humiliation she had caused him. The thought brought a cruel smile to his lips, but it was quickly wiped away by the reality of his current situation.

He had lost her. For now.

He slammed his fist into the wall, the pain barely registering through his haze of anger. His people did their part, and now it was up to him to rectify his mistake. He would find Sophie again, and when he did, she would not escape. She would be his—completely and utterly.

Damon’s eyes narrowed as he planned his next move. He would love to see the faces on that Brad and Ethan. He’d escaped under their noses. Then there was Tristan. Sophie’s lover. He fingered his letter to her in his pocket. He’d taken her, almost broken her. There’d be nothing for him.

He was back on tribal land. A sovereign nation. The tribal council had the authority to create and enforce their own laws and customs within their reservation’s borders.This status affected how tribal law applied on the reservation instead of state law.His family’s finances boosted the tribe. As long as he stayed there, he was above the law. Their tribe would never turn on a Whitlock.

He still had his resources, his loyal followers. He would regroup, and he would come back stronger. Sophie Everhart was not beyond his reach, and he would ensure she learned the consequences of defying him.

For now, he would lick his wounds and prepare. His failure was a bitter pill to swallow, but it would not be the end. It would be the beginning of a new chapter, one where he would emerge victorious, and Sophie would be his prize. He just needed time.

As the night grew darker, Damon’s resolve hardened. The taste of failure lingered, but it fueled his determination. He would not rest until he had what he wanted. And when that day came, Sophie Everhart would know the true extent of his power.

Damon's rage simmered just below the surface as he walked through the door of his secluded home. The contrast between the excitement of the day and the serenity of his house was stark. The warmth and light of the living room greeted him, and, for a moment, he felt a semblance of peace. His pregnant wife, Emma, appeared in the doorway, her arms outstretched.

"Welcome home," she said softly, wrapping her arms around him. Damon felt the tension in his body begin to ease as he returned her embrace, burying his face in her hair. She pulled back and looked up at him, offering a gentle smile. "You were gone for so long, working so hard. I made your favorite meal tonight."

Damon forced a smile, the fa?ade of normalcy slipping into place. "Thank you, Emma. It sounds perfect."

They moved to the dining room, where the table was set with a steaming roast, mashed potatoes, and freshly baked bread. The familiar smells filled the air, momentarily distracting him from the day’s failures. They sat down to eat, the silence between them comfortable, if not entirely genuine.

Emma watched him closely. "Are you okay?"

Damon reached across the table, taking her hand in his. "Just a long few days," he replied, his tone steady. "But it's better now, being here with you." He knew their little town had no internet access his family didn’t control. No one would know what the news was saying.

She smiled softly, squeezing his hand. "I'm glad you're home.”

After dinner, Damon checked on their sleeping children, his heart softening at the sight of their peaceful faces. He gently stroked his son's hair, then moved to his daughter's crib, marveling at how small and fragile she seemed. For a moment, he allowed himself to forget the darkness that lurked within him, the cruelty he had inflicted on others.

As he stood there watching his children sleep, a thought crept into his mind. He wondered if he had impregnated Sophie. The idea sent a shiver of arousal through him, a twisted sense of power and ownership that he couldn't shake. His mind wandered to the memory of her defiance, her vulnerability, and the thought of her bearing his child ignited a dark desire within him.

Damon returned to the bedroom, finding Emma already under the covers. She looked up as he entered, her eyes filled with love and trust. He approached the bed, lingering thoughts of Sophie fueling his arousal. Emma welcomed him with open arms, oblivious to the true nature of his desire.

They made love, their bodies entwined in intimacy. For Damon, it was an outlet for the darker urges that consumed him. As they moved together, his mind drifted between the present and the haunting image of Sophie.

Afterward, they lay together in a tangle of sheets, Emma resting her head on his chest. Damon stared at the ceiling, his mind still restless. He stroked Emma's hair absently, his thoughts returning to his unfinished business. Sophie was still out there, and the need to reclaim his prize burned within him.

Emma's breathing slowed as she drifted into sleep, her trust in him complete. Damon closed his eyes, his double life pressing down on him. He would have to keep up the illusion of normalcy, for Emma's sake, for his children’s sake. But the darkness within him was never far from the surface.

As he finally allowed himself to drift into sleep, he vowed to find Sophie again. He would finish what he started. And no one—not his family, not his wife, not his children—would ever know the true extent of the monster lurking beneath his calm exterior.

* * *

Exhausted, Tristan sat at the large oak table in the conference room, his fingers drumming lightly on the polished surface. The room was quiet, save for the hum of the fluorescent lights and the distant murmur of voices outside the door. He had been called in for this meeting with little context, but from the tension in the air, he knew it was serious.

Brad entered first, his usual confident stride a bit more subdued. He nodded at Tristan and took a seat across from him, followed closely by Alex, who was flipping through a stack of papers. Last to enter was Ethan, who wore a grim look on his face as he closed the door behind him.

"Thanks for coming, Tristan," Brad began, his voice low. "We know you’d rather be with Sophie, but we’ve got some things we need to fill you in on.”

Tristan raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. "As long as you can do it quickly. I need to get back to Sophie.”

Alex took a deep breath and placed the papers on the table. "We are trying to figure out what happened.”

Brad looked down at his hands. “I let it go too long. Tristan, I’m sorry.”

Tristan rubbed his temples. “Look, if this meeting is going to be about that, I have a better place to be.”

Alex continued, “The Eldon Sect. They’re… well, they are a significant factor in the case we’ve been working on."

Tristan glanced between the three men, noting the seriousness in their expressions. "How significant are we talking?"

Ethan explained, "The Eldon Sect has around five hundred members. They live in a compound—yes, it’s walled—on tribal land. That’s one of the major challenges we’re facing. Because it’s sovereign land, the sect has a degree of autonomy that makes it nearly impossible for outside law enforcement to intervene directly. They have their own rules, their own enforcement, and they don’t take kindly to outsiders trying to impose external authority."

“Whitlock Sr. preaches about the ‘Pure Path,’ a doctrine that blends old-world puritanical beliefs with a twisted sense of divine righteousness. They see themselves as the chosen few, destined to cleanse the world of corruption. Anyone outside their community is viewed as tainted, and they go to great lengths to protect their way of life from external influence."

"That’s the funny part," Alex added. "They grow their own food, have their own educational system, and even their own form of law enforcement within the compound. It’s almost a world unto itself, cut off from the rest of society. But their real estate dealings have brought them millions of dollars, often illegally.”

Ethan nodded. "They believe the world outside is corrupt beyond redemption. They’re waiting for what they call the ‘Great Purification,’ where they believe only the righteous—meaning them—will survive. There’s a strong undercurrent of paranoia in everything they do.”

Tristan absorbed the information, his mind racing. "So, what did they want with Sophie and the hospital?”

Brad exchanged a look with Alex before answering, "During the hospital takeover, my team and I were allowed entry onto the tribal land. The Whitlocks appeared surprised by the situation. Unfortunately, that is where the cooperation ended. We were asked to leave after a few questions.”

He paused. “We think Damon Whitlock acted on his own to gain medical supplies for their clinic on the compound. Apparently, the sect’s doctor was substandard. We believe he wanted Sophie to run it. The women in the sect are obedient and subservient to the men. We believe he felt Sophie was disobedient.”

"He saw her disobedience as a threat," Ethan explained.

“So he almost beat her to death. And he raped and sodomized her. All to gain her obedience to run their clinic.” Tristan swiped his face.

Brad blew out a harsh breath. “I believe he fixated on her for his personally sick reasons. Our investigation has exposed some of his behaviors that may open Damon and the sect to crimes not protected by the tribe. It could bring down the entire sect. The Nahiossi tribe lives on the land too, and those kinds of actions run against their beliefs."

A chill ran down Tristan’s spine. "Trace Whitlock is very ill. I don’t think he can fight against Damon. This is bigger than I thought."

"It is," Brad said grimly. "And it’s only going to get more dangerous. We hope Trace will name one of the other sons as his successor, and he will work with us and the tribal council to bring Damon to justice.”

Tristan blew out a breath. “Dealing with Damon may mean the sect will be allowed to continue.”

Ethan leaned forward, his eyes locked on Tristan’s. "Yes. That’s why we needed to tell you. The Eldon Sect isn’t just a group of misguided people. They’re a well-organized, well-funded operation with a lot to lose. We have five sect members in custody. They are all hospitalized in Pierre. We hoped to use them as a bargaining chip, but they appear to have little knowledge of the takeover. They were stationed on the third floor. They may sacrifice Damon to protect the sect. Or they may fight hard. We need to be prepared for whatever they might throw at us."

Tristan nodded slowly. “I want protection for Sophie.”

“There is already someone in the ICU,” Brad said.

"There’s another issue we need to address," Alex said, his tone more serious. "We’ve figured out how Damon and his men got past the police.”

Tristan’s brow furrowed in confusion. "How did they manage that?"

"Damon is part of the leadership of the sect," Ethan explained. "They’ve got resources that go beyond what we initially understood. When Damon’s men needed to bypass the police, the Eldon Sect provided them with access from the old tunnel through a back road that runs through the tribal land. Because of their sovereign status, local law enforcement had no jurisdiction to patrol that area, and Damon exploited that loophole."

Brad sighed, his expression grim. "It was a calculated move. They knew exactly how to use their location and status to their advantage, and it’s clear they’re willing to go to any lengths to protect their interests."

Tristan felt a mix of anger and unease. "So we’re dealing with a group that’s not only dangerous but has the legal protections to operate with impunity. How do we fight that?"

"We’re working on it," Alex replied. "We’re coordinating with federal authorities and the tribal council, but it’s a delicate situation. The Eldon Sect has embedded themselves deeply within the community, and any wrong move could escalate things beyond our control."

Tristan pushed up from his seat. “Let me know when you are going to arrest the bastard. I need to worry about Sophie.” He opened the door with a bang and marched out of the room.

* * *

Morning broke over the quiet expanse of Eldon Falls, the sunlight piercing through the trees and casting long shadows across the snow-covered ground. Damon sat in his living room, a mix of anticipation filling him. His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock at the door.

Nathan, his oldest brother, stood there, his face stern. "Dad wants to see you—now."

Damon nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He closed the door behind him, bracing himself for what was to come.

Arriving at his father's home, Damon was greeted by his mother with a hug. It was a hug only a mother could give, full of unconditional love despite the circumstances. But it offered little comfort as he saw his five brothers waiting, their expressions ranging from concern to anger.

They entered Trace's bedroom together. The patriarch of the Whitlock family rested in a recliner, his frail body dependent on an oxygen tank. Trace’s eyes, however, were as sharp and piercing as ever, and they glared at Damon with a mix of disappointment and fury.

Trace's weak voice cut through the tension. "We had a visit during your expedition. An Agent Hayes. What a surprise. Damn it, Damon, what were you thinking? And five of our folks are now in their custody."

Caleb, one of the middle brothers, frowned deeply. "You destroyed the hospital, mind you, one that was very good to Daddy. And they’re saying that sweet Dr. Everhart is near death."

Damon looked down, guilt and defiance warring within him. "The tribe and us need medical supplies for our clinic and... well, Dr. Everhart was disobedient."

Trace coughed and sputtered, the sound harsh and grating. "First, if you have any ideas of running the family when I kick the bucket, I must inform you that I have chosen Nathan. Your little expedition confirmed my decision earlier."

Nathan stood tall beside Trace, his face unreadable. Damon felt a pang of jealousy and resentment but knew better than to voice it now.

Trace's eyes narrowed further. "Now tell us what you managed to get and what really happened."

Damon took a deep breath. "We secured some medical supplies, but not as much as we hoped. The police presence was stronger than expected. We had to leave most of it behind."

"Most of it?" Nathan's voice was sharp. "Did you get anything at all that can help us?"

"The very essential items. But I… I underestimated the situation. Dr. Everhart... she fought back more than I expected. Things got out of hand."

Caleb shook his head in disgust. "Out of hand? Damon, you nearly killed her. Do you have any idea the repercussions of that? Not just for us, but for everyone associated with the family?"

Trace leaned forward as much as his frail body would allow. "Damon, you've brought nothing but trouble with your reckless actions. Do you understand what you've done?"

Damon's voice was low, barely audible. "I thought I was helping. I thought we needed those supplies."

"And at what cost?" Nathan interjected. "You've endangered our entire operation and brought unwanted attention from the feds."

Trace's breathing was labored, each word a struggle. "Nathan will be taking over the family. Your actions have made it clear you're not fit for leadership. You need to understand that this family doesn't run on brute force and reckless decisions. We survive through careful planning and community ties."

Damon clenched his fists, anger bubbling up inside him. "I was trying to help us."

Trace's gaze softened, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Damon, I know you wanted to help. But your methods... they’re tearing us apart. If we lose the support of our community and the respect of our own people, we have nothing."

The room fell silent as Trace’s words hung in the air. Damon stood motionless.

Trace sighed deeply, the sound filled with both resignation and sorrow. "Eldon Falls will be missing five sons. Damon, they will be asking questions. We won't be able to bury that. The family will have to make an example out of you."

Damon's heart sank further. He knew the family had strict rules, and the consequences for breaking them were severe. But he had never imagined he, a member of the family, would be the one facing such a fate.

Trace's voice, though weak, carried the weight of finality. "I'm sorry, son, but this is how it will have to be."

The punishment for such grave mistakes in Eldon Falls was a ritual as old as the sect itself. It was designed not only to discipline but to serve as a warning to others. The entire community would gather in the central square, a place that usually hosted celebrations and communal gatherings. Today, it would witness a different kind of spectacle.

Damon was led to the square by his brothers, his mother’s tears the only outward sign of dissent. The townsfolk gathered quickly, whispers and murmurs spreading through the crowd as they realized what was about to happen. Everyone began gathering. It was rare to see the family together without some prior announcement.

In the center of the square stood a large wooden post, its purpose clear. Damon’s heart pounded as he was brought to it, his coat removed and his wrists bound tightly with rough rope. His brothers were the ones to tie him to the post, their faces a mix of anger, disappointment, and pity.

Nathan, now the de facto leader, stepped forward to address the crowd. "Today, we are faced with the consequences of betrayal and recklessness. Damon has endangered our community, our family, and our way of life. For his actions, he must be punished." His brothers pulled his shirt free.

A murmur ran through the crowd. The public punishment was a rare and solemn event, one that everyone knew about, but few had witnessed.

Nathan continued, his voice steady, "We will not tolerate actions that put our family at risk. Damon’s punishment will serve as a reminder to all of us that our unity and safety come above all else."

He signaled, and two men wearing balaclavas stepped forward, each holding a long, flexible cane. The first stroke landed with a crack, and Damon gritted his teeth, refusing to cry out. The pain was sharp and immediate, burning through his back like fire.

Stroke after stroke, the punishment continued. Each of the twenty strikes was a reminder of his failure, each lashing a testament to the family’s resolve to maintain order and discipline. Damon’s vision blurred with tears he refused to let fall, his pride the only thing left unbroken.

Finally, Nathan raised his hand, signaling the end of the punishment. Damon hung limply from the post, his back a latticework of raw, bloody welts. The crowd remained silent.

Nathan approached Damon, his voice low but carrying to the edges of the square. "Let this be a lesson to us all. We must remain vigilant, disciplined, and united. Our family’s survival depends on it."

The crowd slowly dispersed, muttering about how they never expected to see a Whitlock punished. As Damon was untied and carried away by his brothers, he knew the family’s position was strengthened, and his position in the community had changed. He knew once the punishment was dealt out and served, he was supposed to be forgiven, but the pain in his back was nothing compared to the ache of his shattered pride.

His father’s words echoed in his mind, warning that failure had a price. Damon had become an example. And as he lay in his bed that night, the pain of his punishment was a constant reminder.