Page 33 of Acts of Contrition

“I’ll kill him for you if you point him out,” Hank offers. “Your hands can stay clean. No need to confess any sins.”

I smirk. I remember the guy Lisa is talking about; he had an aura about him that screamed malice. I wouldn’t leave a plush doll around him, let alone a human being.

“Well, let’s hope he walks by again.” Lisa smiles. “Now, Thomas asked us here to talk about his fiancée.” She nods at me to begin.

“There is something in her past she refuses to speak of, and it’s driving me mad,” I admit to Lisa and Hank. I needed a breather after the carnage I caused in the basement. The longer I stayed home, I’d recall the smell and viscous feel of her sweet blood, and …

Yeah. I refuse to claim her until she is ready for the ceremony, and she is not. So I asked Lisa if she wanted to spend some time on the outside. So far, Father Oliver hasn’t limited any of us from going out into the world as we please even when not on a rescue mission. We just need to ask permission.

“Um … my dude…” Hank hands me a napkin and points to the side of my hand.

Glancing at my pinky, it still has a bit of blood on it. For all it’s worth, someone could think it was paint or food, but assassins and hitmen know blood when we see it.

“Thanks.” I take it and wipe the blood away, pocketing the tissue to dispose of properly. Can’t risk it being found somehow, potentially. I did not survive this long without using my brain.

“So, what do you think she is hiding? Something like a child?” Lisa asks.

I shake my head. “No. She told me…” I pause to recall the words. “She said pain was an old friend, and nothing I did would break her. But were I to be gentle, she has never known softness.”

“You think she wants to trick you into going easy on her?” Hank wonders.

I shake my head. “I know fear when I see it. Apprehension. The silent question of ‘what next?’ She gets scared when I clean her wounds.”

“Then she was abused,” Lisa says simply, sipping her latte. We aren’t allowed stimulants at the compound; nothing stronger than black tea. She and I get our weekly caffeine fix at this café.

“Her parents passed when she was young. And I cannot find any records of her from the time she was pulled out of private education after her mother passed when she was fifteen,” I continue. “Father Oliver and I assumed she was on her own until I rescued her, however…”

“You think she was with someone before you spotted her on that street corner eleven months ago,” Lisa finishes for me.

I drain the dregs of my coffee and look up at the sky. “I believe she would stay if given a chance to be a part of the community. I believe she naturally requires care, perhaps not such a heavy hand but guidance. But I cannot fathom claiming her, even if she were to agree, without knowing the truth.”

Hank taps me on the head, hard.

“Hey!”

“Tommy, you are hands down one of the most intelligent people I’ve ever known,” he says, “but for fuck’s sake, you know nothing about women.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “There’s a list of former partners who would disagree with you on that.”

“He doesn’t mean sex, you absolute nitwit,” Lisa chides. Of course she’d agree with her friend and not her baby brother. “If a man abused her, she isn’t going to tell another man. And she probably won’t tell while she’s being chained to a bed, even if it is warranted.” She lowers her voice as she says that last sentence.

“What do you suggest, O Almighty Genius?” I ask.

She smiles. “Girl’s day!”

Diana

I look at Thomas, Lisa, and Catherine as they stand before me. My back itches as the lashes heal and rub against the rough nightgown; I barely slept and had nightmares all night when I did. And to top it off, I’m still mildly horny. So I am certain what I just heard Catherine say has to have been a hallucination brought on by lack of sleep and pain.

“What?”

Thomas gives me that indulgent smile, as if I am a cute cat or something. “You have been with me for one month. Onemonth is the time when habits begin to form, when your brain chemistry changes. While the women believe it is a cause for celebration, I believe it is another test on you.” He walks over to me and lifts my left hand up, snapping a metal bracelet on it, too snug for me to slip off. He locks it with his fingerprint.

What the Hell?

“The ladies wish to take you shopping and for coffee and pastries,” he explains. “Yes, outside. Yes, I realize you have no clothes; Lisa is going to measure you and bring you something.

“However, everything is a test of both your loyalty and your … tolerance for pain.” His hold on me is gentle, as is his tone of voice. His words, however, are mildly terrifying. I’ve never been loyal to anyone or anything. “This bracelet, the control for which I will give to Catherine, as Lisa would use it a bit too indiscriminately…”

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