Bleeding Edge: Elliot Security (Elliot Security Series Book 2) by Evie Mitchell (short story to read .txt) 📗

“Emmie.”

“Shut up, I’m getting there.” I pulled in a shaky breath and paused to collect my thoughts.

Don’t do it.

Just give in. He wants to help. Let him.

You can’t rely on anyone but yourself.

“Beautiful, I’m right here.” His arms tightened around me for a second and then loosened, reminding me that, for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t alone.

I climbed out of his arms and moved to the far corner of the lounge. I wouldn’t get through this if he touched me. Those arms weren’t mine to have.

Luc watched me move and settle. I breathed deep.

“Do you know how ISIS recruit their members?”

His eyes narrowed, lips drawing tight. “They mobilise people through social media.”

“Yeah. They use propaganda to build their base. People can be radicalised in extremely compressed timelines. Some they encouraged to stay in country and become martyrs or physical recruiters. Others they would ask to join them in Syria.”

“You were a member of ISIS?”

“Ha, not quite. There’s a group in Australia called the God’s Patriot. They operate using a similar technique but have different fundamental beliefs. You know a few years back, maybe five? When that guy drove a car filled with explosives into Parliament house? It didn’t go off, but they made all those changes to security and stuff?”

Luc nodded, his eyes narrowing.

“A lone wolf martyr, the God’s Patriots encouraged him to do it. The police never tied it back.” It felt good to admit.

“Jesus, Emmie.” He reached for me, but I held up a hand.

“The God’s Patriots believe their leader, Edward, is Christ. He’s the second coming. They recruit people online using soft and hard techniques.”

“Soft and hard?”

“They have a soft evangelical approach. Just preaching the good word. They look, on the surface, like any other legit religious group. They have a website, social media profiles, are a registered charity.” I ran a hand over my face. “They suck people in slowly but surely. Then there’s the hard approach. Hacking of websites to spread the good word. If they identify someone of high value, someone of power who they can bring into the fold, they will research them until they know everything about their lives. Then they’ll target their message. Ruthlessly dogging that person until they are either radicalised into a dogmatic disciple, blackmailed into joining, or disappear.”

“Disappear?”

“I’ve witnessed two people who killed themselves rather than put up with the threats.”

Luc’s lips frown deepened. “How did you end up there?”

“They told us my mum ran off. I don’t remember her. It could be true, but I don’t know. My dad was someone they needed. They targeted him, sending him a young, pretty thing to help with the kids and house. Offering a job and a way out. Eventually he married the nanny, Mary, and they took us to join the commune in the middle of whoop-whoop, Western Australia.” I let out a breath as memories flooded in. “I can’t remember my name from before, but when you enter the cult, they baptise you and assign you a new name.” My throat tightened as the name echoed in my ears, ghosts whispering memories I’d sooner forget. I rubbed the back of my neck, soothing the raised hairs.

“At first they didn’t have the infrastructure to school us. To avoid attention from Child Protective Services, they sent us to a proper school until they finished building the commune. That was their mistake. The brainwashing that worked so well on my siblings just didn’t take with me.” I shrugged.

Luc pinched the bridge of his nose, looking away. After a long moment, he turned back. “You said the leader is Edward?”

“Yeah. A Hack-tivist. I don’t know his background, but he’s convinced he’s God’s son. He’d have to be, maybe late fifties by now? He’s charismatic, intelligent, handsome. Edward railed against capitalism, greed, and the government. He preached that we were the chosen and our actions were only dictated by God’s Law. He taught us how to manipulate computers for our own benefit.”

“That’s where you got your skills?”

I nodded. “Edward referred to me as his ‘protégée.’ He predicted that one day I would use my skills to set in motion the apocalypse. A rapture that would bring down the governments, break the banks, bringing with it the end of times. He would lead us into the new era, the second era where only the chosen would be spared.”

I recited the lines that were forever etched in my conscious. “The nations were angry, and your wrath has come. The time has come for judging the dead, and for rewarding your servants, the prophets, and your people who revere your name, both great and small— and for destroying those who destroy the earth. Revelation eleven, eighteen.”

“How did you escape?”

I huffed out a bitter laugh. “I was the chosen one right up until I hit puberty. A late bloomer. When my…” I hesitated, glancing at him, then away, blushing. “When my breasts grew, I went from nothing to a C-cup in about six months. I kept getting punished by the elders for tempting the men, so I started wearing baggy clothing. It became automatic.”

Luc reached over, gently cupping my chin, moving my head until our eyes met. His were blue fire.

“What do you mean by ‘tempt’?” His eyes narrowed on mine. “You were a teenager, Emmie. A child.”

I ignored him, pulling my head away, determined to get it all out. “Let me finish. By the time I was fifteen, I was a D-cup, and that shit is hard to hide when you’re wearing hand-me-downs. They decided I was too tempting for the boys in the commune and needed to be married off. I was to be wife number three to Edward’s brother. David was forty-something at the time.”

“Fuck. Fuck.” Luc pushed off the couch, pacing to the wall. He ran a hand through his thick hair. I watched as he took three deep breaths, calming. He turned back. “Emmie, you don’t–”

I held up a hand again, absently noting it trembled.

“I’m okay.” I breathed