The Blessed - By Tonya Hurley Page 0,77
Cecilia scoffed, grabbing a brass candlesnuffer and handing it off to Sebastian as he walked slowly, threateningly toward Jesse. “You have ten seconds.”
“Yes,” Sebastian said. “Who am I?”
“He is insane,” Jesse stammered, pointing at Sebastian. “Delusional.”
With each invective hurled, each accusation made, Sebastian took a step closer.
“He escaped from the mental hospital on Halloween.”
“Did Frey send you?” Sebastian asked, now close enough for Jesse to see the intensity in Sebastian’s eyes.
“Send me?” Jesse bristled. “I’m nobody’s butt boy. I was worried about Lucy. He told me what he knew.”
“Told you what he wanted you to know,” Sebastian mocked. “What else did he say?”
“That you’re a murderer,” Jesse screeched, as Sebastian got within inches of his face.
“He’s a liar!” Sebastian shouted right in Jesse’s face, putting the fear of God into him.
The light from the altar candle caught the bell cup on the snuffer as Sebastian raised it shoulder high. It gleamed like a guillotine blade about to do its swift and bloody duty. Jesse swallowed hard. Something inside Sebastian seemed to snap. The girls could see his expression change and harden before their eyes.
“I could split your loser skull.” Sebastian grimaced.
Sebastian took the brass bar and pressed it against Jesse’s throat.
“Are you going to kill me now too?” Jesse said, gasping. “Which one of them is next?”
Lucy had seen two guys she knew fight over her before, but never with so much at stake. She cared about Jesse enough not to let Sebastian hurt him and about Sebastian too much to let him do something foolish.
She came up behind Sebastian and touched his arm, signaling a reprieve for Jesse.
“Don’t,” she said. “Please.”
Sebastian slammed the snuffer to the ground and stepped back. The rattling of the metal against the marble floor had them reaching for their ears.
Jesse exhaled slowly and kept his eyes on Sebastian as he beckoned to Lucy. “He’s crazy, Lucy. And dangerous. You need to get out of here. Away from him.”
“You lie for a living,” Lucy reminded him. “Why would we believe you?”
“You don’t have to take my word for it,” Jesse said, reaching for his smartphone on the floor. “See for yourself.” Jesse swiped the touch screen and the app for his blog opened. He handed it to Lucy. She read the lead item he’d written, over and over, and followed the links to far more reputable outlets. Agnes and Cecilia came over and read it as well.
“It’s all over the place already,” Jesse said. “Newspaper, TV. Looking for you. And him.”
“Thanks to you, no doubt,” Cecilia said.
“I don’t believe it,” Agnes whispered as she and Cecilia finished reading. “Sebastian, is this true?”
“No, but does that matter?” he said. “People will believe it because they want to believe it.”
“Who would you believe?” Jesse pushed back. “Some brooding squatter in an abandoned church or the chief of psychiatry at Perpetual Help Hospital?”
“Dr. Frey?” Agnes said.
“Yeah,” Jesse said.
“That’s my doctor.”
“What a coincidence,” Jesse said, sarcastically eyeing her wrapped wrists. “His too.”
Jesse had put Sebastian on trial and he railed like a prosecutor seeking to undermine the defendant’s credibility. Assembling a case, piece by indisputable piece, until the big picture was undeniable. He was in the right place for a sermon. He moved back toward the doors as he made his charges, just in case.
Sebastian remained silent.
“You were all in the emergency room the night he escaped from the psych ward, and now you’re all here. Another coincidence?”
Little by little, Jesse was getting through to them.
“And those bracelets he gave to you? The ones on your wrists. He stole them. From the chapel. They’re ancient. Priceless. Relics of some kind. Do you think he could afford them?”
“Shut up, Jesse!” Lucy shouted.
“He’s not denying it, so why should you defend him?”
Agnes was nearly in tears. “Sebastian, is this true?”
“You never did tell me what you were doing at the hospital that night,” Cecilia said, looking to him for an explanation.
“Why were you there?” Lucy joined. “Tell us.”
Sebastian did not speak.
Jesse was emboldened and he felt their resolve weaken.
“I’ll tell you,” Jesse continued. “He was in lockdown. Committed. Refused treatment.”
“Treatment for what?” Agnes asked.
“I’m not a doctor, but I think the medical term is ‘lunatic.’ He thinks—”
“He thinks what?” Cecilia interrupted.
“Hasn’t he told you?” Jesse said, unsuccessfully attempting to stifle a cackle that rose up and bounced around the walls of the church. “He thinks he is a saint.”
Lucy rushed Jesse and knocked him against the back wall; his back smashed against the empty holy water font. All the pent-up rage