Page 34 of Deliver us from Evil

Oh Lord, who am I kidding? Of course she knew. But logic doesn’t ease the pain of realizing my mother kept Dad’s secret.

I stab my elbow into Gabriel’s stomach.

I get lucky. He’s distracted, and I manage to hit him hard enough, and in just the right spot, that I knock the air from his lungs.

He doubles over with pain, his grip releasing just enough for me to wriggle free.

I make a dash for the stairs, for the door, for freedom.

My foot lands on the first stair, and then Gabriel kicks it out from under me. I fall face first, my chin slamming into the wooden step. Blood leaks into my mouth from the cut my teeth sliced into the inside of my cheek.

But I’m already scrambling up, ignoring the pain, ignoring the sound of Gabriel’s furious breathing behind me.

I don’t reach the door.

Halfway up the stairs, Gabriel latches onto the back of my sleeping shirt andtugs. I go flying down the stairs, missing all of them. I land on my back on the plastic sheeting with a loudcrump.

Air gushes out of my lungs. I roll onto my side, groaning as a dull ache spreads through my body from the impact.

When I force my eyes open, they fix on Gabriel’s loafers.

He grabs my hair and drags me over the floor. My scalp is on fire where he’s pulling, hurting more the harder I fight.

The bed squeaks when he throws me down, and I scream in panic. I try to roll off, but he slaps me so hard I see stars. There’s a violent yank on my arm, the rough kiss of a rope, and then I’m bound.

Like he’s done this a thousand times before.

I start sobbing with frustration, fear, desperation. “P-please!”

“That’s it,” he says, voice menacingly low. “Keep begging. That’s just how he liked it.”

What. The.Fuck?

I kick and lash out, but it’s as if Gabriel is made of steel. He doesn’t even blink when I rake my nails through his skin hard enough to draw blood.

“Help!” The yell burns my throat.

I was right about the soundproofing. Gabriel doesn’t give a fuck. He grabs my foot and lashes it to the bedpost.

My toes catch his chin, sending his head snapping to the side. There’s a hush, a pause as he straightens his head.

His brown eyes resemble those of an animal head hanging above some redneck’s fireplace.

There empty. Dead.

He grabs my other foot, lashes it down. I try and untie the knot on my left hand while he’s busy, but it’s so tight I don’t make any progress by the time he’s done.

And then he climbs on top of me, straddling my stomach.

Terror pours ice through my limbs. I go stiff, panting as tears leak from the corners of my eyes.

He grabs my chin, his fingertips biting cruelly into my jaw. Then he snaps my head to the side like he can’t bear looking at me anymore.

A giant sob wracks me as he ties off my last wrist. He settles back, crushing my stomach with his weight, and studies me.

My head is still to the side, and I don’t dare look at him. Instead I squeeze my eyes shut and start praying.

Our father, which art in heaven,

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