Page 70 of Deliver us from Evil

“Youalmost got killed too,” I tell her. “Or did you forget?”

My brothers told me she had a bout of amnesia when she came out of the anesthesia. According to them, her memories all came back. But she’s acting like she has no fucking clue what almost happened back then.

If she had died…

Her pulse throbs under my thumb. Quick, strong. She’s angry, but she’s keeping it under control. I guess we’ve both learned some tricks the past few months.

Her eyes flick left, right. “We’re alone now,” she whispers fiercely, leaning in close enough to kiss. “You can drop the act.”

My heart slams into my rib cage. Before I can stop myself, I’m grinding her wrist bones together.

She winces, and then a spark of victory lights up her eyes. “They’ll believe anything you tell them, Zach, but you showed me your true colors. And I can’t unsee that.”

And then it hits me.

She’s talking about the knife. What I said when I told her to leave.

I drop my head, huff. “Fuck,” I murmur.

She huffs too. “Yeah, fuck.” Then she pulls her hand out of my grip and gets to her feet. “I won’t ever let you hurt them again. Not now, not ever. And if that means you’ll always hate me, then you’d better strap in, because it’s gonna be a bumpy fucking ride.”

Trinity moves to walk past me, but then I’m standing, my body a wall she can’t pass. She rears back, glaring up at me, mouth opening.

I don’t give her a chance to speak.

She makes an angry sound when I grab her wrist and force her hand against my heart, pushing her palm flush against the thick scar left behind by my surgery.

“You’re wrong about a lot of things,” I tell her.

“Am I?” she mutters, trying to pull her hand away.

“You were wrong to forgive Gabriel.”

She ducks her head, laughs bitterly. “Oh my God.”

“You were wrong to forgive your parents.”

Her head snaps back, her plump mouth distorting into a snarl. I don’t try and stop when she slaps my face with her free hand, but then I grab it too, press that against my chest.

“And you’re wrong not to forgive me.”

“You don’t get to decide who—”

“You want the truth? I told you to leave that morning because I couldn’t stand the sight of you anymore.”

She gapes at me, indignant, but far from incredulous. How she saw this coming, I don’t know. I guess I got my point across better than I thought the morning Gabriel snatched her from Saint Amos.

“You make me sick, Trinity.”

Hurt flashes in her eyes.

That tiny spark of pain reminds me of the beast I harbor inside my mind. The one that seeks out violence and chaos…and vulnerability.

That’s all it takes.

Just one spark.

And I’m done.

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