The Sinners of Saint Amos - Logan Fox Page 0,184

glance down at the mattress I’m lying on.

Lord, don’t let this be the same one they—

My eyes flutter closed as I will my nausea to settle down.

“It became a game, in the end.” Gabriel walks up to the bed, stares down at me. When he reaches out and grabs a lock of my hair, curling it around his finger, I do my best not to pull away or puke. “But Keith always won.”

My body sags.

I’m not getting out of these knots. I doubt I’m even getting out of this basement. Not after I see the look in Gabriel’s eyes.

Defeat.

He knows there’s no coming back from this. You can’t tie up your daughter in a basement and still expect her to love you.

If that’s even what he was after. It’s night and day with him. Like a faulty switch that keeps dimming and brightening a light even when you’re not touching it.

“You’re crazy,” I say quietly. Not with malice. Just stating a fact, that’s all.

Gabriel smiles as he huffs out a breath through his nose. “Yes.” He agrees through a sigh. “I am.” Then he releases my hair. “But not always. Not at first.” He points at himself. “He made me like this. With his tricks and his games.”

He’s nodding over and over again, like he’s stuck. “They did this to me.”

“You can’t keep blaming him. He’s dead.”

At this, he throws back his head and laughs.

The sound is more terrifying than when he was on top of me, slapping me into submission.

“Oh, God.” A last laugh. “Yes.” Another sigh. “They both are. They are so very fucking dead.” He dips his head a little. “God answers our prayers in his own way,” he says, placing a hand over his heart. “It only took a few thousand of them before he answered mine.”

I grit my teeth at him. “It’s karma. It’s what happens if you’re a bad person.”

His face turns to stone, but he doesn’t try and stop me.

“Think you’ll get away with it? You won’t.” I lift my head, pushing my chin out at him. “And I hope God punishes you. I hope you die a slow and horrible death. Because that’s more than what you deserve for what you did to those boys, you sick fuck!”

The silence that comes after my pronouncement seems much too quiet, like the walls in here are still soaking up every stray sound wave.

Gabriel tilts his head to the side. Takes a step closer. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

I cringe away the closer he comes, but there’s nowhere for me to go. Tied spread-eagled to this bed, I can’t do anything to protect myself.

“I had nothing to do with those kids. Nothing!” He points a finger to the side, then stabs it into his chest. “He blamed everything on me. He set me up when I told him I’d take you away from him. And he couldn’t have that, could he? Oh no.”

Gabriel gives his head a furious shake.

“You were the only reason Monica stayed. You were the glue that held your dysfunctional family together. Monica wouldn’t leave him, because he told her he would hurt you if she tried.”

My ears are singing. Not hymns, but dirges filled with despair.

Gabriel lets out another bitter laugh. “And that was my fault.” He lunges forward, grabs the front of my shirt in a fist. “I’m the reason you’re alive. I’m the reason he had something he could use to control her with. To control us with.”

His other hand cups my cheek. “He used you to turn her against me. And when I threatened to expose him, he made it look like I was the one who arranged everything. All those boys, for all those sick men? Me!”

My mouth is open. My eyes wide. But I can’t digest the information flooding my mind.

“He found a film of a young boy.” Gabriel’s eyes are wide, his face sickly pale. “He made us watch it. Me and Monica. Told us that was what he needed. That was the only cure for his sickness. Just one boy. One boy, and he wouldn’t prey on anyone else again.”

“N-No, pl-ease,” I manage, but sobs cut up the words.

“Who do you think it was, found that first boy for him? Hmm?” He leans close again, twisting the fabric of my shirt. Pushing me hard into the mattress. His fingertips dig into the side of my face as he forces me to look at him.

“Who do you think brought him down here, to