Page 86 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

He’s definitely the member of this group I’m most uncertain about. While he gives off the kind of vibe that makes me want to climb over a wall to get away from him, he’s the only one who hasn’t hurt me or even threatened to yet.

Him and Apollo.

I take the glass from him and attempt a smile that probably comes out more like a grimace. “Thank you,” I murmur as I take it from him.

He nods and disappears into the bedroom.

Cassius offers the cigarette to Zachary, who lights it and takes a deep drag before turning his attention back to me.

“How did you become friends with Father Gabriel?”

That’s what they want to know? I shrug and bring the glass up to my nose. Whatever’s in here is strong enough to make my eyes want to start watering. Maybe I should have taken that weed cigarette from Cassius instead. At least I wouldn’t be hurting.

“He’s my priest.” I glance away, happen to spot a very dirty magazine, and hastily look back at Zachary. “Was, anyway.”

“That’s it?” Zachary takes another drag before passing the weed back to Cassius. “You said he was your best friend.”

“He was, for a while.” It’s strange as fuck telling these near-strangers about my life. “Why are you so interested in him, anyway?”

Without warning, Cassius leans over and tweaks my nipple through my vest. I jerk to my feet in surprise.

He says, “We’re the ones asking the questions,” before I can get a word out.

Zachary clicks his fingers and points back at the sofa.

I want to throw my glass in his face. Not just the contents, the actual fucking glass.

“What changed?” Zachary asks in the same tone of voice he used a minute ago.

“He left our parish.”

“Why?”

“He didn’t say.”

Zachary’s jaw ticks, tensing like he’s about to pounce on me. I crowd back into my seat, wishing I had something to protect myself with. I glance at Cassius, but he’s staring down at the tip of the cigarette as if he’s never been so fascinated by coiling smoke in his life. Zachary sits forward so quickly that I flinch. The contents of my glass swirl, almost spilling. His eyes go to the glass, and then back to me lightning fast.

“Drink it.”

I hold it out. “I don’t want?—”

“Drink it!” His booming voice fills the room.

My hand shakes as I bring the glass to my lips and reluctantly pour everything in my mouth.

Cassius laughs when I start coughing around that fiery liquid as it sears its way down my throat. Then he snatches the glass from my hand and sets it down on the floor beside his arm of the sofa.

I wipe my chin with my fingers, and stare down at my thighs. My veins show up like tiny blue rivers under my skin.

Not sure how this is possible, but I keep forgetting I’m surrounded by crazy people.

That plan I had? A crock of shit.

I’m not getting out of here alive.

They’re just toying with me.

The worst part is I’m starting to hope they’ll at least take their time.

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