Page 134 of Their Will be Done

I frown hard at him. “What does that have to do with—?”

He leans into me, snarling. “I know who you are. Nothing you say is going to change my mind, little girl.”

Who I am? He’s always known—

“If you’re not on that bus when it leaves, I’ll come find you, and I’ll make you bleed.”

He smiles.

Claps a hand over my mouth.

And drags the tip of the blade down the inside of my thigh as I whimper in sudden panic.

“Only this time, I’ll use my knife.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

Trinity

Ibarely have enough strength in my legs to drag me up the stairs, but somehow I make it all the way to the fourth floor of Saint Amos. It’s still early—the sun hasn’t even risen yet—but already I hear the distant sound of doors opening.

Saint Amos is coming to life.

But I’m dying.

It has nothing to do with the shallow cut on my thigh. It was the fear that came after. It has drained my spirit to the point where I’m wondering if I’ll live to see sunlight again.

I could have gone to my room. Climbed into bed. And fallen asleep…possibly forever. But I came here instead. I came back to Gabriel.

I know he’ll take me back because that’s what he does. It’s his job to forgive people.

Sometimes, he even does it on behalf of God.

Maybe I should confess. Serve penance. Maybe then my life won’t be so fucked up anymore.

Makes sense. This was all my fault. I went there. I slept with them. What did I expect? That I’d wake up to breakfast in bed?

No, I hadn’t expected that. I’dhoped.

But Zachary made me realize something I should have realized a long time ago.

The men down there in the back of that library? They are mentally unstable. I’d be too if I’d suffered like they had. I don’t blame them for that.

But they need help.

I stop outside of Gabriel’s door, lift a fist, and bang it on the wood. Then I lean against the wall beside it as the world takes a slow tumble.

Am I in shock? If Zachary had pushed that knife less than an inch up, he would have—

“Trinity, what are you—?” Gabriel cuts off with an angry sound. “Who did this to you?”

Oh.

Right.

The bruises on my face.

The cum stains on my dress.

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