Tyrant (Kings of Carnage MC: Alabama #1)

Chapter 3

Blair

T his guy is massive. Scarily so, but even with him being the size of a monster, something inside tells me he’s not the monster I’ve grown used to. I may’ve escaped from my ex, but I know I’ll never truly be safe from him. I’ve stayed in Creekdale, the small town north of Huntsville, for as long as I can, knowing my ex, Josef, has people out looking for me. He’s the type of man who will never stop searching, even if he decides he doesn’t want me anymore, it’s the fact I got away.

I escaped.

I took another chance by hitchhiking today, and shockingly, it was easier than I expected. I never would’ve dared when I initially left, I was too scared and paranoid. Back then, I stayed in the woods and hid wherever I could so no one would see me running and then eventually walked as far as my feet would take me before I thought I’d collapse. My ex is charismatic enough to have everyone believing me to be led away by evil. They’ll indulge anything he says, no matter how extreme. I was never one of those blinded by him completely, but rather, it was my parents who pushed me towards him. I was in college when I discovered they’d sold my childhood home along with all of their belongings to join a ‘community.’

That year, instead of staying at school for my break like I’d planned on, I came home. The phone calls with my parents were growing less and less frequent, and while I wasn’t glued at the hip with my family, I was somewhat close to them. Speaking to them twice a week once I’d left to school was a normal occurrence. It’d probably have been more if I hadn’t loaded myself down so much with the classes I’d chosen. Anyhow, the calls got sporadic, and most of the time, when I tried calling their cell phones, no one answered or even returned my calls. Of course, I became worried that one of them possibly had a health issue or something they were trying to keep hidden from me, and suddenly coming home seemed like the most important thing I needed to do.

I was introduced to their new community of neighbors and I use the term community lightly. On arrival, I thought it was another random gated community like most of the nicer housing developments have nowadays, clad with a nosy HOA. Imagine my surprise when it was nothing like I’d expected past the gates.

It was the opposite, as if time had been spun backwards, and in the very middle of everything, stood the biggest and tallest building of all…their House of Worship . Discovering a fancy church to be the center of the community wasn’t actually a big deal to me at the time. My mother’s parents were always highly religious, and my dad leaned that way for my mother and her family’s sake. I grew up praying, attending sermons regularly, and attending Sunday school, but it wasn’t the biggest part of our lives. I went to public school, was in the marching band, made decent grades, and had what I consider a normal life growing up. Faith was just an added bonus to it all, and I was happy sharing in it with my parents.

The House of Worship wasn’t a church per se. It was where the people convened to literally worship the leaders. They were treated as if their word was law; they ruled and had their hand in every aspect of the so-called community. Shockingly, it didn’t seem so crazy to me at first, and after living it, I know it’s designed with that intention: to lure people like myself and my parents in. They weren’t holy rollers, shoving everything down your throat when they first met you. It was the opposite; they were kind, giving, and made you feel welcomed and valued in a non-creepy sort of way. I can see the deception for what it was, now, but at the time, I’d foolishly believed I’d met the nicest people ever.

My break only lasted a few days with travel time, so by the time I left and got back to school, I was too distracted to dig deep into my thoughts and question anything. I went back to classes, with what I felt was a decent understanding as to why my parents decided to move to the community. I even felt good about it, thinking about how much safer they’d be there from crime, or if, God forbid, they were somehow injured and needed help. They were surrounded by other good-hearted people.

I was blind.

I soon found myself wanting to return more and more. Each time Josef was around, showing my family more attention than they normally received. My parents ate it up, and having the favor of the next leader in the community also had others looking up to my folks as well. I was happy they’d found their place and that everyone seemed to love them so much. Josef’s parents were polite to me, but not to the point they showed any type of warmness or favor. Although, now I know they didn’t possess a warm bone in their bodies, only cruelty.

Josef started requesting I come ‘home’ for all of my breaks, even the ones that were only a few days long. He’d organize a ride for me, always with a more than willing fellow community member who seemed overjoyed with the drives and time they spent carting me around. I was tired from studying a lot and going to classes, so it was one of my complaints as to why I wouldn’t return on the shorter breaks. Of course, Josef found a way around that, so I’d keep returning. More and more to the point I was questioning why I was living so far away at school in the first place. Then Josef began dropping hints about me possibly transferring closer to the community. Soon after, I was on board with the idea without realizing I’d been talked into it in the first place. The idea quickly shifted to me finishing my degree by taking whatever online courses I could, rather than going to a college outside the home altogether.

My parents were always supportive of what I’d wanted to do, so when I mentioned I may come home and finish my degree remotely, they were absolutely thrilled to have me back with them. The first semester I attempted to take the classes, was difficult. It seemed like the community always had something going on and there you’re expected to participate in everything. No one was offered alone time; in fact, it was heavily frowned upon. They wanted everyone to be together, to celebrate, worship, work, you name it.

With Josef’s extra attention toward me, school and time to myself, or off the gated plot of land, became increasingly less and less. Eventually, it got to the point I was never able to ‘find’ my phone, so I distanced myself from my friends and old classmates. I was constantly hearing how horrible the outside world was becoming and all the people continuously praising Josef and his family for everything they were doing for the people, to the point I started to believe I was one of the lucky ones to be where I was. To think I was safe and living a better life by dropping out of university to live a quieter, slower-paced reality around decent people with truly kind souls.

My rose-colored glasses only grew foggier and foggier. I quickly fell behind in my courses and had to drop them altogether or risk failing. Then I allowed myself to be talked into ‘taking a break’ and putting my degree on hold so I could do more important things, like devote that newly found free time to the House of Worship and the people’s needs who visited. My parents began talking about a possible union between Josef and me, almost as if the idea was put into their heads by someone who was not me. I never mentioned it, so they shouldn’t have thought we were more than good friends at the time.

Not long after, Josef’s father passed away, and suddenly, I was sucked into entirely new roles. I comforted him and tried to help his mother with preparations. After all, it was expected we all pitch in however we could. Josef constantly praised how I was good at listening and offering comfort, so I concentrated on doing it to the best of my ability. He was our new leader, the blessed one, devoting his time to the people with the most important job in our community. I felt personally responsible in making sure he was working through his grief as he needed to so he could be the best for everyone else and himself.

With his father no longer around to protest Josef marrying so soon, it sort of became expected for me to marry him. When he’d asked for my hand in marriage and for me to stand at his side to lead the congregation, I was surprised but almost on board with it. Would I have accepted so easily if I’d had time to think it over? Or to have a lengthy engagement? Absolutely not, but he made certain I never had a chance to form my own opinion on the matter.

The moment everyone witnessed him professing his profound commitment to me (because, of course, he did it before a sermon with everyone watching), our community swore it was the correct path . Our way was being shown to us from above . We were being guided and led, and when someone believes in the faith so desperately, next to nothing will sway them from that belief. With the people’s new philosophical moment brought on by the Profit, the proposal was never a true request but an expectation of me to marry Josef.

To give him several children.

To be the dutiful wife.

To give up everything .

Thinking back on it all now, it makes me want to rage.

I’d mostly cried at first when I discovered his true nature. Then came the brokenness in my marriage and ultimately in me; the depression and hopelessness hit me hard without my parents to offer any help in lifting me up. Finally, when the deep desperation took root in my soul, I managed to crawl through the darkness to escape. Now, I’m angry and bitter over it all. I could take the high road and choose forgiveness, but I’m far past that option.

I want Josef to die.

Not just perish into the night but burn to death and feel every single moment of pain he’s put all of us through. He deserves it all and so much more. The horrors I experienced, but also watched, will haunt my dreams for the rest of my life. And my baby… my daughter , he’s made it so I can never see her again. If I try, I’ll die at his hands because there is no returning without my death.

My parents are no longer the people I thought I knew. The ones I could count on no matter what. The strong, steady reliability that offered me wisdom and support whenever I needed it.

No…I no longer recognize the shells they’ve become at the hands of Josef’s cult .