The Sinners of Saint Amos - Logan Fox Page 0,155

hear the distant sound of doors opening.

Saint Amos is coming to life.

But I’m dying.

It has nothing to do with the shallow cut on my thigh. It was the fear that came after. It has drained my spirit to the point where I’m wondering if I’ll live to see sunlight again.

I could have gone to my room. Climbed into bed. And fallen asleep…possibly forever. But I came here instead. I came back to Gabriel.

I know he’ll take me back because that’s what he does. It’s his job to forgive people.

Sometimes, he even does it on behalf of God.

Maybe I should confess. Serve penance. Maybe then my life won’t be so fucked up anymore.

Makes sense. This was all my fault. I went there. I slept with them. What did I expect? That I’d wake up to breakfast in bed?

No, I hadn’t expected that. I’d hoped.

But Zachary made me realize something I should have realized a long time ago.

The men down there in the back of that library? They are mentally unstable. I’d be too if I’d suffered like they had. I don’t blame them for that.

But they need help.

I stop outside of Gabriel’s door, lift a fist, and bang it on the wood. Then I lean against the wall beside it as the world takes a slow tumble.

Am I in shock? If Zachary had pushed that knife less than an inch up, he would have—

“Trinity, what are you—?” Gabriel cuts off with an angry sound. “Who did this to you?”

Oh.

Right.

The bruises on my face.

The cum stains on my dress.

The blood trickling down my leg.

He’s wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. Glasses resting on top of his head. He looks like my father sometimes did on Saturday mornings when he slept in and would come downstairs at ten o’clock in the morning for his first cup of coffee.

Gabriel and my father had a lot in common, come to think about it.

I straighten, hug myself. Stare at Gabriel.

“There’s…”

He holds out a hand. Wants me to come inside. I look past him, into the small, dimly lit antechamber. Past that, to his room.

No fire this morning.

A suitcase, packed.

Ready to leave.

But I thought he was staying? That’s what the Brotherhood’s entire plan hinged on.

“Please, child. Come inside. I’ll make you some—”

“There’s something I need to show you,” I say.

Gabriel’s gaze searches my face. “What is it?” His voice is low.

I swallow hard, and wish I could look away. But his brown eyes have mine trapped, his face blank. “It’s…”

His voice is clipped when he says, “Speak, child.”

“It’s in the bell tower, Father.”

Chapter Forty-Eight

Trinity

My heart’s pounding like a bongo drum. Father Gabriel holds out a big bunch of keys he’d taken out of a drawer in his apartment and glances at me over his shoulder.

He doesn’t say anything. He just frowns, and puts the key in the lock. But when he turns the key nothing happens.

Because it was already unlocked.

He opens the door. A slash of light paints the blank wall inside. Gabriel steps inside, turns, lifts his hands. “What do you want to show me?” he asks.

I rush into the small room and slap my hands on the bare wall.

“It was right here. Pictures, photos, articles.” I turn, and stab a finger into his chest. “About you. Everything. It all leads back to you!”

He grabs my wrist and twists my hand. I yell out in pain, my body moving to the side on instinct.

As soon as I yell, Gabriel releases my hand and takes a hurried step back, the metal desk rattling when he backs into it. His fierce expression dissolves into shock. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

I scramble away from him, my back slamming into the wall.

This can’t be happening. Where the fuck did it all go?

They’d kill me if they knew.

Shit…Did the Brotherhood find out about this room and take everything down?

“Why did you bring me here?” Gabriel has a hand on his heart, but not clawing at it like he’s having a heart attack or something. Just…flat. Like he’s counting his own heartbeats.

“It’s gone,” I murmur. “They took it.”

“Who? What?” He looks around. “Trinity, talk to me. Tell me what happened.” He steps closer, reaching for me, his eyes darting to my legs, to the blood. “Tell me who did this to you.”

But I can’t. I mean…what the fuck am I supposed to say? Yeah, so, there’s this bunch of guys, they say you’re a criminal mastermind. And they have evidence, which was all here, but now it’s gone.

I’d sound like a lunatic.

“You