Absolution (Riders Of Tyr #4 - MC Romance)

1. Exodus

Welcome!!

I am so happy and proud and excited to bring you a new Rider story. This one just crept up on me without me even knowing and I for one am glad it did. 

Those of you that read Lysa's and Vik's story know Magda. And you know how Runner felt for her. Those of you that haven't read FIGHT ON, I suggest that you do but you won't miss anything from this story.

I can't wait to see how you like this new power-couple. Leave me your thoughts and your comments, I always appreciate them. 

Enjoy.

Magda

He's been praying for hours now. I am praying too. I am praying that he won't come again, that he will keep his ravings and he will forget about me. At least for tonight. I pray for one night to be left alone. I am balled up under my bunker and I sway back and forth. Not tonight, not tonight, not tonight.

"MAGDALENE!"

The blood freezes in my veins. He is going to come. God doesn't exist. Or if He exists, he can't hear me from inside that hole in the ground he has locked me in. Or I am evil, impure like he tells me all the time and this is my Hell, my punishment.

"Magdalene!"

He is closer, no way to escape him in this place that is my prison. I hear the footsteps outside my room and I close my eyes. Tears burn my cheeks and I whimper. The door is thrown open and he steps in, light coming from behind him, bathing him in darkness. I don't know about God, but the Devil does exist and he comes for me again.

"Magdalene."

I wake up drenched in sweat, barely holding back a scream. Outside it's dark, deep into the night. I shake my head and I feel the saltiness of tears on my mouth. It's been years since Salome tracked us, broke down that damn door like a warrior angel and beat "Father" to death. Years since my brave sister picked me up in her arms and brought me to light. Years since I am freed from Hell. And still, I go back there every night.

"Fuck!"

I grab the bottle of water I have always handy and I throw my legs on the floor. It's been months since I walked away from Berkeley and I've been on the road ever since going from town to town and leaving when things get too hot. I am like the wandering Jew, that guy that mocked Jesus on the way to crucifixion and was condemned to wander the Earth till the Second Coming. Only in this story, I am also the one carrying a cross on my back.

I down the water and I get up to the bathroom of this cheap motel somewhere in Wisconsin. The lamp is flickering over my head as I throw water on my face. Nothing is enough to clear that bitter taste on my lips, that agitation, that itching. I can stay in and wallow in the past or I can go out looking for trouble, forget, feel alive, powerful, in charge.

I grab my leather jacket and I walk out. In this shithole of a town, there is one place to look for trouble. The bar. I shove my hands in my leather jacket and I let a smile on my lips. And in the stillness of the night, I hear it. The ping of the phone Stig has provided me with.

A text. I fist the phone nervously. There is nothing threatening in the text. On the contrary. It's Lysandra. She has been calling me or texting me every single day and though I speak less and respond rarely, I've come to enjoy these interactions. She is trying, she is not giving up on me. And though I try to keep her out of my mind, I can't help but feel grateful that is determined to stay close. I shake my head and open her text.

The wedding is next week. There is a bridesmaid dress (badass, I promise) waiting for you. I will be waiting for you, too.

That word. "Wait". The last word that man told me. That dark man, with the smiling eyes and the calm voice. I heard the others calling him Runner. He told me his name and his real name was Jesus. He even joked about it. Jesus and Magdalene. Real Da Vinci Code stuff.