Page 117 of Deliver us from Evil

He’s describing the house we were kept captive in. A place that used to be his home.

That silence comes again, but Cass breaks it this time after looking first at Zach, then at me.

“How about you burn this one down too when we’re done?”

* * *

Just after theturnoff heading for the shooting range, signs start popping up for ranches and plots. We drive until we find the first house that fits our description, but since there are two kids playing in the front yard, we drive past.

A few minutes later, something more fitting comes into view. We park behind a small copse of pine trees—just far enough to keep in sight without being spotted.

It’s a three-story house.

It’s remote as fuck.

If there’d been more than one of its type in this area, we’d have to have searched them all…but there isn’t. The only other houses are a few one-level ranch-style lots, most of them closer to the road.

Despite what Cass demanded, we didn’t come with an arsenal. We all have Kevlar vests on under our shirts, but only Zach and Cass are carrying.

I never handle guns, and this is no exception.

Apollo also declined. I have a hunting knife on me, Apollo a switchblade. But we’re only supposed to be backup for Cass and Zach, and we’re merely going in to scope the place and see if this is where Trinity is being held.

“You sure you want to go in there unarmed?” Cass asks, twisting in his seat and grabbing the headrest. “I mean, you could just wave it around. It doesn’t even have to be loaded.”

I shake my head.

The last time I touched a gun, I almost killed two innocent girls, and traumatized an entire family.

If I’d had a sliver of doubt left that I wasn’t a normal kid, that day changed everything.

It was a Saturday. Pissing with rain. My foster parents had a lunch date with friends, and their four daughters had decided to stay at home and watch sitcom reruns instead of going with.

I don’t know who bought the bottle of booze, but it was almost empty by the time I walked past and saw them passing it around. I wasn’t going to rat them out—I was just going to take it away. Our parents had made it pretty fucking clear how they felt about underage drinking. I mean, the youngest was thirteen. No one that young should be drinking anyway.

But when I tried to take it away, they ganged up on me. Thought it was a game. They were drunk, and I guess they’d been eyeing me for the past few weeks, because they tried to get me to kiss them.

They even started taking their shirts off.

A normal kid my age would have gone with it. But they were my sisters, and it was wrong, and the harder I resisted, the more intent they became.

My brothers think I’m a pussy because I never hit on any of them. I can’t even imagine what they’d say if I told them the truth about what happened that day.

Because it wasn’t just kissing.

They tried to get my pants off. And that shit triggered me worse than anything I’d experienced since we’d escaped the basement.

I snapped.

Lisa was the youngest.

She was so beautiful. Long blond hair, bright blue eyes.

I was just trying to keep her back, all of them. I shoved her too hard, and she took a tumble.

Ha.Took a tumble.

She slammed into a glass coffee table, face first. She almost lost an eye. I didn’t see her again after that, but I have no doubt the accident disfigured her.

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