Page 90 of Where the Darkness Goes

“Tessa, I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist.” He holds a hand out, gesturing toward the hallway. “It’s for your own good.”

His voice, the chilly tone it has taken on, sends a shard of ice through my core. I nod and turn around. I don’t have a choice. He’s going to make me do it. Once he leaves, I’ll use a voice command to call Will. I’ll shout through the glass. It’ll be okay.

Slowly, I make my way across the room toward the hall with Pastor Charles just behind me. I can practically feel him breathing on my neck. We reach the china cabinet, and I look up, lifting my hand to open the door.

In the reflection in the glass, I catch a glimpse of Pastor Charles behind me, his face hard, and the words spill out of me before I can stop them. “Did you hurt my mom?”

His face doesn’t change. “I’m sorry.” I see it coming seconds too late. The green wooden lamp that’s usually on the end table beside the couch is in his hand, and he lifts it up.

He swings, and strikes my skull with all his might.

Crack.With the impact, my head is thrown forward.

My forehead slams into the metal, ornate knob on the china cabinet.

I pull back, dizzy, and pain explodes in the back of my head as the lamp connects with my skull again.

I tumble forward, my head a raging kaleidoscope of reds and blues and yellows and stars. Black splotches fill my vision, making it impossible to see what he’s doing. I try to sit up, but my head is filled with sandbags.

I drop back down just as another blow slams into me. The scream that leaves my mouth is animal-like. It doesn’t sound human. It doesn’t sound like me.

Me.

Me.

Me.

The word is funny. Sort of squishy and round.

Around and around and around we go.

The world spins round, and I’m right there with it. My head is warm, throbbing, and nothing makes sense.

Sense.

Sentence.

Sequentence. Is that a word?

Tessa.

It’s my name, I think, but I can’t be sure where it came from.

I can’t even be sure it’s my name.

In the distance, a door slams, and there are footsteps.

Feet.

Feet.

Impossible feet.

Everything hurts, and the words slip away from me like the name of a song I can’t place. The sounds fade. It’s scary, in a safe way. Like it should be scary, but it’s not. It’s a cloud. A pillow. And I’m sinking into it. Someone touches me, and I’m on my back, but I can’t focus on that. I can’t focus on anything. My head is a boulder, sinking down, down, down.

My hearing goes first so I’m floating in nothingness, then my vision fades completely to black, and I’m gone.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

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