Francis sipped his coffee, then stared up at the night sky and its meaningless patterns of constellations. His thoughts drifted to the violence back at the house. His skin was still singing with the thrill of that, and he knew it was a sensation his mind should avoid. Because even though he had known in advance the evening would involve a physical confrontation, it had been surprising how natural it had been when it happened. He had killed once, and it had been easy to kill again. It was as though what he’d been forced to do to Neil had turned a key inside him, unlocking desires he’d only been dimly aware of beforehand.
It had felt good, hadn’t it?
Coffee slopped over his hand, and he looked down to see that his hand was trembling slightly.
He forced himself to calm down.
But a part of him didn’t want to. It was much easier now to remember what he’d done to Neil Spencer, and he couldn’t deny that there had been enjoyment in the act of killing. He had simply been afraid to acknowledge it until now. Thinking back, he could imagine that his father had been there with him.
Watching.
Nodding along in approval.
Now you understand, don’t you, Francis?
Yes. Now he understood why his father had hated him so much. For being such a worthless creature. But he wasn’t anymore, and he wondered what it might be like to look into his father’s eyes now. Whether they could forgive each other for what they had been in the light of what they had become.
I’m like you, you see?
You don’t have to hate me anymore.
Francis shook his head. Jesus Christ—what was he thinking? What had happened with Neil had been a mistake. He needed to concentrate now, because he had Jake to care for. To keep safe. To love. Because that was what all children wanted and needed, wasn’t it? To be loved and cherished by their parents. His heart ached at the thought.
They wanted that more than anything.
He sipped the last of his coffee and grimaced. It had gone cold, so he poured the dregs into the weeds at the side of the doorstep, then went back inside, leaving the silent world out there for the silent one within.
Time to say good night to the boy.
No more mistakes.
And yet, as he headed upstairs to Jake, he kept thinking about killing Neil Spencer and how it had made him feel.
I’m like you, you see?
And he wondered if perhaps it hadn’t been so terrible a mistake after all.
Fifty-five
When you woke up from a nightmare, things were supposed to be okay.
Not like this.
When Jake had first opened his eyes, he had been confused. It was too bright in his room. The light was on, and that wasn’t right. And then he’d realized this wasn’t his bedroom at all, but some other child’s, and that wasn’t right either. But his head was so groggy that he couldn’t make sense of it, beyond feeling a tightening knot of wrongness in his heart. The world had swum around him when he’d sat up. And then a memory had come back to him, and the knot had tightened more quickly, squeezing panic out into his whole body.
He was supposed to be at home. And he had been. But then there had been the man coming up the stairs, and then into his room, and then something on his face. And then …
Nothing.
Until here.
That had been perhaps ten minutes ago. Since then, he had spent a short amount of time thinking that this must be another nightmare—a new one—because it certainly felt like one. But he knew, even before he pinched himself to test, that it was too real for that. The fear was too strong, and if he had been asleep it would have woken him up by now. He remembered about the man who had taken Neil Spencer and hurt him, though, and he wondered if maybe this was a nightmare after all, just not the kind you got to wake up from. The world was full of bad men. Full of bad dreams that didn’t always happen when you were asleep.
He glanced to one side now.
The little girl was here with him!
“You’re—”
“Shhh. Keep your voice down.” She looked around the small room and swallowed hard. “You mustn’t let him know that I’m here.”
Which, of course, she wasn’t—he knew that deep down. But he was so grateful to see her that he wasn’t going to think about that. She was