The Sinners of Saint Amos - Logan Fox Page 0,161

found it before she did. Now I’m worried she didn’t come up here again after I cleaned out the place. Or, if she did, that she didn’t check the drawer. Shit. Maybe I should have left it out in the open.

Trin didn’t mention anything about finding the photo, and I have a feeling she would have. Maybe give me a knowing look or something. A kind of a thank you.

The photo means a lot to her. I wish I knew why.

I’ve stared at it so many times over the years, I have it memorized. Especially Gabriel’s face. He was young back then. He looks so innocent in that photo, if a bit of a prick. Guess that’s no surprise. Maybe that’s how she’d prefer to remember her father. Innocent.

I saunter over, glancing at the view as I try to drink in every leaf on every tree.

I unlock the door and push. It swings open, then gets stuck like there’s something in the way.

The hell?

I push against it, shove a little harder. There’s a groan.

My eyes go wide, lungs tight and hot and bursting.

I squeeze in through the gap and stare down at Trinity. It takes me way too long to process what I’m seeing because there’s blood down there and blood makes me feel like gravity has stopped working.

I grab onto the thin edge of the metal desk behind me, holding on, trying to stay rooted to the floor so I won’t float away.

Her eyes are open, but she looks out of it. Concussed maybe. I’ve seen it plenty of times. Ghosts playing too hard with their toys. Sometimes they break them and those toys don’t always heal.

“Trin.” My voice comes from far away.

Shit, man. Keep it together. She needs you!

But there’s blood pooling on the floor by her head. More on her legs. She’s still wearing the white dress, and her skin is so pale. The red looks neon against all that white.

Focus on her eyes, man. Look at her. Help her.

I push away from the desk. Start rambling. “Hey. It’s okay. I’m here. Trin. Trin! Can you hear me? I’m here, pretty thing.”

She groans again, her eyes fluttering closed. I get closer. See all that blood is actually her dark hair. Only a little blood. A small splash. Almost less than the streaks on her thighs.

We did that.

No. Can’t be. I saw blood yesterday, but not that much. Not enough to make me float away.

I touch her shoulder, scoop a hand under her head. Help her sit up.

Got to be careful with a possible head trauma. So, so careful.

“Hey, you there?” I ask. “Can you hear me, Trin?”

Her mouth moves, but no sound comes out. Is that good or bad?

“I’m here, pretty thing. You’re safe now. Everything’s fine.”

Best thing ever—someone telling you shit’s fine. Even when it’s not, it doesn’t matter. Because you give them hope, right? Would have been like those other kids if we didn’t have hope. The ones that came to the basement to die.

“’Ming,” I think she says.

“Shh. Don’t speak, okay?” I can carry her, but not down all those stairs. Not without jarring her. And that can’t be good.

Gotta get help.

I take out my phone.

Shit! Cass has been trying to reach me. I must have forgotten to take my phone off silent this morning. I turn on the ringer now. Then I go to call Cass.

“Coming,” Trinity says, and this time I hear her fine. But it’s too late, because her eyes are already wide, her lips peeling open in dismay.

Maybe if I’d understood sooner, Gabriel wouldn’t have had the upper hand. But he works out. Stays fit.

I don’t. Hate getting sweaty. Hate feeling tired and stiff.

When Father Gabriel comes at me from behind, slings an arm around my throat, and puts me in a chokehold, there’s nothing I can do about it.

Sweet fanny fuck all.

I swat at him, try and scratch out his eyes, but he dodges like a snake.

Trinity watches, eyes brimming, lips distorted. Angry, scared. But just sitting there like a broken doll propped up against the wall in some filthy playhouse.

I finally make contact. Scratch his cheek.

But the light’s fading. I can’t fend him off much longer. And once he’s rid of me…

“They’re coming for you, you piece of shit,” I manage through a collapsing windpipe. “I’d run. Run fucking far.”

God, it takes everything I have to say those words. Not just physical effort, because taking a nap right now is all my body wants to do.

I’m giving up