Page 49 of Of Sinners & Salvation
“Your girlfriend?” I say, bitterness creeping into my tone.
“My girlfriend’s name is Mercy.”
“I thought that was your sister.”
“My sister, my girlfriend, my favorite filthy little cum slut,” he says. “Now shut up before I bend you over and fuck you right here in the dirt.”
I swallow hard, my pulse fluttering and my core doing the same at his words. I shouldn’t be able to feel that way when I’m wet and cold and exhausted, not to mention already sore from their roughness last night, but I can’t stop my body from wanting what it wants. And now, I don’t try. Father Salvatore taughtme to accept myself, never shaming me for who I love or what I enjoy, never shaming my brother for wanting me back. He endorsed this, encouraged us to explore our desires and submit to our bodies’ demands. Now, when I think of the next time I’ll be with Saint, I feel no shame, only anticipation and a touch of trepidation, knowing he’ll hurt and humiliate me… And that I’ll get off on it.
He may have fought it longer than I did, but we’ve both accepted it now. I always wanted it, even before I admitted it, and long before he did. Even when I fought them, when I ran from Heath, when I begged them, I was always willing. I was begging for them to take the shame from me, to let me be free, and now I am. I was never fighting them, not really. I was fighting my own desire. And now I’ve embraced it, thanks to Father Salvatore.
When we reach the top of the incline and are out of sight of the looming mansion that in the early dawn’s light appears abandoned save for one murky yellow light from an attic window, we stop to regroup.
“Does anyone need to rest?” Father Salvatore asks, looking from one of us to the next. He produces a handful of nutrition bars from his pocket and a single bottle of water. “It’s not much of a breakfast, but I didn’t know we’d be staying so long. Take one and have a drink. We’ll find more food and water at the hospital.”
“Damn, you’ve been holding out on us,” Heath says. He looks a little pale, but he got more rest than anyone, having fallen asleep almost as soon as we sat down in the overhang below. I dozed on and off throughout the early morning hours too, but not nearly enough to make up for the strenuous fight last night. I test my bruises as we eat in silence, passing the bottle around and taking turns sipping the water.
I notice Father Salvatore doesn’t have anything, but he refuses when I offer to share. I reluctantly finish off my bar, knowing that taking care of us is what makes him happy.
We walk in silence, hugging ourselves against the cold wind that’s blown up, sweeping over the island in damp, salt-scented gusts. It looks like a storm is blowing in from the east, and I’m glad we decided against going back to the mainland. Still, pushing through the wind as well as the exhaustion only tires us out more. But at last, after what feels like hours, when the murky morning light has crept through the brewing storm clouds to drench the island, we come over a slight swell and see the asylum rising through the trees. Against the howling wind and tossing trees, the hulking old building looks steadfast and impenetrable, foreboding as an ancient, evil god crouching under the ominous, dark clouds, waiting for us.
I point to the doctor’s small house with its neat white paint, dwarfed by the huge stone building and insignificant in comparison. “There,” I say. “That’s where we cut off the head of the beast.”
sixteen
The Heathen
The security alarm goes off the moment Angel puts his fist through the window of the good doctor’s house. He curses and quickly punches out the rest of the glass. Just as he finishes, there’s a loud pop inside the house, and something whistles by my head so close I can feel it.
“Get down,” yells Father Salvatore as Saint drags me and Mercy to the ground at the same instant. “Shots fired!”
“Fucking hell, that was close,” I say through panting breaths, my adrenaline charging through me like a herd of bulls down the streets of Madrid.
“Why is it always you?” Saint demands. “Aren’t you supposed to have the luck of the Irish or some shit?”
“Must have worn off when they moved to America,” I mutter, grimacing at the thought of all the stories I’ve heard about Mom’s childhood.
Angel sits with his back to the wall under the window, but after a minute, he turns and eases up over the sill.
Another bullet shrieks past, and Father Salvatore curses under his breath and motions for us to move to the other side of the porch. Mercy and Saint start to army crawl, but I can’t because one of my arms is fucked. Seeing my predicament, the father nods at Angel and then crawls towards me. Angel crawls to the next window and shatters it just as Dante reaches me. Together, we crab walk to join the others as the next gunshot sounds.
My heart lurches the way it always does, and I check on Angel, who’s fine. The bastard really does have an angel looking over his shoulder. A bullet would probably slide off him like he’s fucking Teflon.
“Angel,” Mercy hisses. “This way.”
He eases down the wall, then looks left and right before standing and squeezing off a round into the house. A loud yell of surprise answers, and I wait for the sound of a body falling, but instead, there’s footsteps, then silence.
“Shit,” Saint says. “What now? We can’t go into a shoot-out with guns blazing when we only have two.”
“Can’t wait him out,” I say, taking out my Glock. “He’ll probably have called the guards by now, and there’s a hell of a lot more of them than us.”
“They didn’t carry guns,” Father Salvatore says.
“Doesn’t mean they don’t have ‘em,” I reason.
A spray of bullets peppers the lawn where we were not five minutes ago, and my heart fucking stops. We would have been shrapnel if we hadn’t moved. Mercy’s eyes widen too, and I know she’s thinking the same thing.
Angel, however, uses the barrage to estimate where it’s coming from, and as soon as it’s over, he fires again. This time, his shot is met with cursing, then another short burst of return fire. Angel scoots towards the porch, probably thinking the guy won’t shoot there again since he’s already covered that area.
