to him,” I tell her. Then I sigh and sit back, running my hands through my hair. “The four of us—” I swing out a hand to encompass my brothers “—we lived together in that basement for years. Boys would come and go, but we’d stay behind. Some of the Ghosts started talking to us. We started piecing things together.”
“Then we escaped,” Reuben says.
I point at him. “Then we escaped.” I exhale into the silence as Trinity leans forward with an expectant frown.
“And then?”
Traces of smoke from deep in my lungs wreathe my words. “And then everything went to shit.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Trinity
It’s inappropriate to laugh after what Zachary said, but I have a hysterical need to giggle.
Then it went to shit?
“I don’t understand,” I say, carefully swallowing down any mirth that dares to bubble up. “I mean, did they catch the Ghosts? How does that lead to Gabriel? None of this makes sense!”
Zachary shakes his head. “None of the men who molested us were ever arrested by the FBI or the police. Not. One.”
I hug myself, and burrow deeper into my blanket. “Why? Didn’t you have enough evidence?”
“Oh, we had evidence—” Apollo begins, but he cuts off when Zachary throws a hard stare his way. I guess his turn to talk is over.
I haven’t heard Zachary’s story yet, or Reuben’s, but I’m already at the point where I want to tell them they’re making this up.
And even if they’re not, there’s no way Gabriel could be involved in something like this.
No fucking way.
“Two arrests were made,” Zachary says calmly.
“That’s it?”
He nods once. “There was a trial. The suspects were sentenced to death.”
My eyes go wide. The blanket creaks in my hand as I tighten my grip. “As in…the death penalty?”
Another nod. “They’ll be executed next month.” There’s that tick again. He clenches his jaw as if he’s suddenly aware of it, and swallows. “The investigation was closed a long, long time ago. According to the feds, they found everyone involved.”
“Tell her about Gabriel,” Reuben says. “She has to know.”
Zachary holds up a hand. Licks his lips. I’ve never seen him this unsure of himself, and it makes panic flutter deep in my belly.
Earlier, they seemed convinced Gabriel was, what? Some kind of kingpin? The guy responsible for all their pain and suffering.
Zachary opens his mouth, but he can’t seem to produce words.
For some reason, that terrifies me.
A hand lands on my shoulder. Reuben turns me to face him. It’s unreal, seeing such deep pain on such a young, vital face. He could have been the poster boy for a high school football team.
“I’d always beg my Ghost to tell me why he was doing what he was doing.” Reuben slaps his palm into his chest. Apollo flinches. “Why me?”
My mouth goes dry and goosebumps race over my flesh.
His black eyes trap me like tar.
“He said I should ask the Guardian. That he could explain it.”
I’m hanging on every fucking word, but Reuben’s struggling with this as much as Zachary was. His wide chest rises and falls as his breathing becomes slow and deep.
“I told him—” Reuben burrows a hand into the top of my blanket. I don’t fight him—by now I know what he’s looking for. He takes hold of my crucifix and rubs the wood. It seems to calm him, because a level of tension leaves his face. “I told him I didn’t know who the Guardian was. That I only saw him. So he told me—”
His voice grows thick. Rosewood hits my nose how hard he’s rubbing that crucifix.
“Rube,” Cass whispers from behind me. “Bro, you don’t have to—”
“The Guardian said we were the cure.” Black eyes pin me. “That the Ghosts had a sickness. We kept their symptoms—those urges—at bay, so they could do their jobs.” His breath hitches. “So they could preach the Word of God without being plagued by their desires.”
My mouth falls open. Without thought, I lift my hands and wrap my fingers around Reuben’s fist. My chest closes rendering speech impossible, but there’s nothing I could have said anyway.
Nothing.
“When they were done—” He pauses to swallow. “When their visit was over, they would meet with the Guardian and confess their sins.”
Reuben’s hand trembles inside my fingers.
“And he would bless them, and make them pure again.”
He lets go of the crucifix, taking back his hand and slowly putting them face down on his thighs.
“Until their urges came back, of course,” Zachary says.
My heart fucking bleeds for these boys. I rub a palm over my collarbones,