I know who it is. Even though I know what he’s capable of.
I’m even fucking grateful, because he’s so warm, and I’m so cold.
…lead us not into…
I lie there in his arms until I fall asleep. And I’m still there when I wake up.
But I only wake up a long, long time later after he wakes up. After he brushes hair from my face and kisses my cheek. Only after he squeezes me tight and whispers, “Morning, daughter.”
…deliver us from evil…
Now I’m not tired anymore. I’m not hurting as much. I am scared. But I’m also angry. And I want out.
...thine is the kingdom...
My mind races as he snuggles his face into the back of my neck, as if he’s smelling me.
…the power and the glory…
This is not my new life. I’m getting out of here, whatever it takes.
…forever and ever.
Amen.
Chapter Thirteen
Trinity
I think Gabriel has fallen asleep again. I guess it’s tiring, holding someone captive. But he should be used to it though.
The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I shift a little, then pause, waiting for his reaction.
Nothing but a soft breath against the back of my neck. His arm is still slung around me, his fingers dangling over my hip.
It would be so easy to stay here. Although I don’t feel as shit as I did when I woke up on the bathroom floor after he tried to drown me, my body is still weak. I haven’t eaten in…days?
So easy just to let it happen.
To go somewhere else inside my head.
But that’s not what they did. Those four boys in the basement fought back. They stayed strong, and they found a way out.
But they were four.
I’m just me.
So easy to feel sorry for myself right now. To think it’s useless. That I’d make Gabriel angry and he’d try to hurt me again.
Even though right now he’s peaceful. Almost like the Gabriel I used to know and love. But he won’t stay this way. I’ll say something and it will trigger him to the violence, and he’ll try to hurt me again.
I gently grasp his wrist and lift it. Slow. Easy. I keep it suspended as I carefully wriggle to the side.
The tendons in Gabriel’s wrist go tight. He murmurs something inaudible as he tries to hold onto me in his sleep.
I freeze, eyes squeezing shut, and send a prayer to any higher power who might be listening.
Our father, which art in heaven.
Hallowed by thy name.
The prayer becomes a mantra that cycles over and over in my mind as I slowly make my way to the edge of the bed. As soon as I’m clear, I put his hand down on the sheets.
The instant I let go, he turns over, dragging the bedding with him. Leaving me exposed and naked on the far side of the bed.
I slip out and stand hunched over, my heart thudding relentlessly in my chest. With his back to me, I don’t know if his eyes are open. They can’t be—why would they?—but that doesn’t change a thing.
Deliver us from evil.
All I need is for him to stay exactly as he is. Lost in whatever perverted dream he’s having right now.
I back up out of the room, hesitate at the threshold, and then pull the door closed as I creep into the hallway outside. I’d have locked it, but the key’s gone.
I know I shouldn’t be wasting a millisecond, but I can’t run into the street naked. And it will only take a few seconds to put on clothes. Just pants and a shirt. I won’t even bother with underwear or shoes.
That’s the plan, anyway. But when I step into my room, it’s as if the world does a somersault around me.
I freeze.
It looks like a tornado went through this place.
My closet doors are wide open. Everything inside them has been dumped on the floor or on the bed. Little ornaments—the kind of knick-knacks you accumulate when you’re young—are everywhere. Some shattered. Tears and scuffs on the wallpaper where he threw things against the wall.
Was he looking for something? Or did my accusations really piss him off that much?
Move, Trinity! He could be waking up any second now, and you’re just standing there? You’ve established he’s a nut job—now how about you get on with escaping?
I force myself deeper into my room, but it’s like I’m in a trance. There’s so much chaos in here I can’t find anything.
I pick up a jacket that doesn’t have a zipper or buttons—pointless.
A scarf.
That goes