Itching to call him, I went straight for the phone, positive he wouldn’t have stood me up by choice. I grabbed the phone off the breakfast bar, hesitating for a second, worried that his grandfather would answer again. But I needed to know that he was all right, because those bruises... God! The not knowing was terrifying me.
Unable to handle it anymore, I dialled his number, willing him to pick up. The phone clicked through, a female voice coming over the line.
“Mrs. Laboure?” I asked, relieved that at least it wasn’t Christopher’s grandfather.
“Yes? Who is this?”
“Is Christopher all right?”
“Who is this?” she asked more firmly.
“His girlfriend. Is he all right?”
“He’s fine and will be even better if you stop harassing my famiglia. Please don’t call again.” She hung up.
I instantly redialled.
She picked up. “I told you—”
I cut her off, “How do you feel when you see bruises on your son’s face?”
“How dare—”
“No, how dare you!” I yelled. “You’re just as bad as your husband for letting him beat Chris up! No, you’re worse, because mothers are meant to protect their children with their lives, but what do you do, you let him get hurt over and over again. How can you live with yourself? How can you even contemplate calling yourself a mother? You make me sick.”
I exhaled, allowing myself to breathe, the hateful words leaving me shaking. A sob came from the other side, my words obviously having struck a nerve.
I went in for the kill, “He says he can’t forgive you for standing by, letting him get hurt. For staying with men who threaten him not only physically, but mentally, your own father wanting to possess his body. You aren’t an angel, you’re a demon. You chose to be one when you allowed your own son to get abused and used by men who were meant to protect him. So, the next time you see Chris, look at him, really look at him, at all that hurt on his face, all those bruises, and just know that you helped put them there.”
“I didn’t, I didn’t,” she sobbed. “I love my son.”
“Then prove it. Where is he?”
“Locked in the study. But he’s fine. He’s not hurt.”
“Maybe not physically, but you’ve destroyed his heart, his soul. Do you want that for him?”
“No,” she sobbed. “I truly love him, but I can’t let him run off with you. He needs to stay with famiglia. Separated we become weak, vulnerable to the demons.”
“You already have demons in your house, your father and husband are demons.”
“No, they’re not!”
“I’ve heard you’re a scholar. Don’t tell me you don’t know what they are? But then again, you’re a demon too.”
“No, I’m not!”
“Then prove it by helping Chris. All he wants is to be safe, which he isn’t with your family, and most certainly not with his father. He comes to school beaten and broken, all because you keep choosing your husband over your own son. Why do you do that? Why?”
“I... I love my husband, I can’t leave him.”
“So you love your son’s abuser more than your own son?”
“Don’t call my husband that!”
“How else can I say it? Even my form teacher noticed something’s wrong with Chris’ situation. And his auntie, she wants to take Chris off you. She knows what your husband’s doing, and what you’re not doing. How can you face his teachers, his auntie and uncle, even Stephen, knowing what they’re thinking about you?”
She let out another sob.
“Let him go. We’ll leave together. I’ll take the Stella Maris rosary with me, so your father won’t feel its effects anymore. You’ll be able to stay in Agnaru like he wants.”
“But I want Chris with me.”
“So, you’d rather force your son to live in an abusive household, than allow him to be safe with me?”
“How do I know he’ll be safe with you? I don’t know you. You could harm him.”
“I would never harm Chris, I love him. And the only way you’re going to be able to stop Chris from being with me is if you imprison him. Because that’s what it’ll take. He told me he hates you and the rest of your family, hates what you’ve all done to him. While he told me, he loves me.”
Another sob came over the line. I knew I was hurting her with my words, but I didn’t care, because she was hurting Christopher.
I continued, “Do you know why he loves me? Because I treat him with love and respect. How do you treat him?”
She didn’t reply.
“Help him. Please let him come to me. At least he’ll be safe.”
“I still don’t trust you.”
“Then trust him. Let him make up his own mind.”
“You could’ve bewitched him.”
“I’m not a demon, otherwise I would’ve come after you all by now. I just want your father to leave me alone. He’s bad, so is your husband, even Sister Cecile was bad. Are you bad too?”
She didn’t reply.
“Tell Chris to phone me. I’ll be waiting.” I hung up, praying she loved her son as much as she claimed.
Chapter 47
~ CHRISTOPHER ~
Fingers brushed my cheek, the touch waking me. I opened my eyes, not happy to see my mother staring down at me. She was sitting on the couch next to me, while I lay spread out across it, bound and gagged.
She brushed my cheek again. “It’s going to be all right, tesoro,” she said, calling me her treasure. I didn’t understand how she could use a word like that with me lying here like this, something she’d helped happen.
“Will you promise not to shout if I take your gag out?” she asked.
I nodded, just wanting it gone.
She pulled it off. I moved my jaw around, loosening the ache from having the gag in for so long. I glanced at the clock on my father’s desk, my heart sinking at the time. It was just past five p.m., over six hours after the time I was meant to meet Catherine. Panic started to build inside of me, worried that she would change her mind and fight my grandfather instead of leaving with me. But I forced that panic down, knowing I needed to be calm so I could escape.
I held my hands out. “Please untie me, Mamma, it hurts,” I pleaded, purposely playing on her emotions, not feeling guilty at all about doing it. I still couldn’t get over what she’d done, couldn’t get my head around any of my family thinking that this was all right. My grandfather kept trying to justify it, saying that it was for my sake, so I didn’t hurt myself or anyone else. But the fact that they’d tied me up and locked me in the study did hurt me. Family didn’t do this to you. They didn’t make you a prisoner. They didn’t.
My mother bowed her head as if she was about to break out in prayer. “Please forgive me, Chris, I didn’t want to do it.”
“Then untie me.”
She looked back up at me. “This girl. What is she like?”
“Catherine?”
“Sì. What is she like?”
“Why?”
“She called me.”
“What did she say?”
My mother’s dark eyes misted over. “A lot of home truths. Do you trust her?”
“More than you,” I answered, making her flinch.
“What will it take to make you trust me?”
I didn’t reply, not sure if I could ever trust her again.
“Please, figlio,” she said, looking close to tears. “I want to make this right.”
“Maybe if you untied me it would help.”
She bit her lip, uncertainty tempering her features, but instead of saying no, she got up and grabbed some scissors off the desk. She sat back down and started cutting the duct tape from my ankles, removing it from my jeans.
I sat up and stretched my legs, aching from the time I’d been trussed up like an animal. I held my arms out next, so she could remove the tape from my wrists.
“Do you hate me, Chris?” she asked, not making a move
to remove it.
I didn’t reply.
Her face twisted. “I deserve that.” She wiped her eyes. “Deserve it all. I allowed you to get hurt. I even helped them hurt you.” She grabbed my wrists, hacking at the tape, her tears falling onto my hands. “I can’t believe I did this,” she said, yanking the tape off. “I can’t believe I allowed them to talk me into tying up my own son.” She leaned down and kissed my now free wrists, then looked back up at me, her eyes so mournful it hurt to look at them. I averted my gaze, my mother still capable of hurting me with one look.
“I can’t leave your father,” she said. “I don’t want you to leave either, but I can’t keep letting him hurt you. Please, just tell me you trust this girl. Tell me she wants to protect you like I can’t.”
“She does,” I said.
My mother pushed to her feet. “Then go before they return.”
I got up too, not believing this was happening. “Grazie, Mamma.”
“I don’t deserve your thanks. Now hurry, they’ll be home soon.”
She grabbed my arm and yanked me to the door. I pulled free and snatched up my bag. The money was gone, but some of my stuff was still in it. I zipped it up and pulled it on as she led the way out of the study and into the lounge. We entered the passageway, stopping as the front door cracked open. She shoved me into her room. I shot behind the door, my heart pounding like crazy, the beat picking up more at my father’s voice.
“Maria,” he said. “How’s the boy doing?”
“Fine,” she replied, her voice wobbling. I grimaced, praying she held it together, my mother a lousy liar.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“He’s... He’s just so upset.”
“That’s understandable, but don’t upset yourself over it, amore. We’re doing this for his own good.”
I gritted my teeth, what he was doing definitely not for my benefit. I glanced at the window on the other side of the room, eyeing it up as a possible escape route.
“Are you sure this girl’s as bad as Papà’s making her out to be?” my mother asked.
“Sì. She’s nothing but a trumped up little whore,” he spat, making me tense.
“How do you know that?”
“I told you what that park ranger said she was doing to Chris. She’s corrupting our boy, poisoning him against us. He’s never acted up like this before, not even with that Levy girl. The harpy has gotten her claws into him.”
“Only demon Halos can be harpies, and she’s a Maris.”
“A siren then. What does it matter? She’s still corrupting him.”
“And you’re not?”
“What do you mean by that?” he snapped.
“Hitting him. Why do you always have to hurt him?”
“He attacked me first.”
“Only the last few times. But what about all the other times? You say you don’t want to be a demon, but you don’t even try to be an angel.”
“I can’t help being born a—”
“You weren’t born a demon!” she screamed. “I told you it’s got nothing to do with blood, but you refuse to listen to me, only taking Papà’s word, someone who wears his heritage like a demon wears fake angel wings.”
“He’s not a demon!” my father spat. “And I’m not just taking Papà’s word, The Book of the Rosary clearly states it’s about blood.”
“Which has been proven wrong. The Merge Chronicles—”
“Are unreliable.”
“No, they’re not! And if you think it’s about blood, then why did Papà say he could possess Chris the other day? He said his parents were angels, which according to The Book of the Rosary would make him an angel. But angels can’t possess, you know that.”
“Maybe he’s wrong about his parents.”
“Either way, Papà’s a demon, and although I want to stay with him, I can’t at Chris’ expense. And you shouldn’t either.”
“What are you saying?”
“We have to either leave without Papà or let Chris leave. And right now, I’m thinking we need to let Chris go, because you’re just as much a danger to him as Papà is.”
“No! We’re a famiglia. We have to stay together.”
“For how long? Because one of you will end up killing the other if we don’t let him go.”
“No one is going to die!”
“No one has to if you just let Chris go, because I won’t stand around, allowing you to knock him about anymore. I’ve had enough, Antonio. I have had enough!”
“You’ve had enough? Well, I’ve had enough of spoilt children who think they can do whatever they damn well please. I’ve also had enough of weak women who pander to those children.”
“Don’t you dare speak to me like that!”
“I will speak to you however I damn well please, woman! And you will pull your head in.”
“Pull my head in. You’re the one brutalising our son!”
“Watch your mouth!”
“Why? Will you hit me too?”
“Of course not!”
“Then why do you hit our son?!”
“He pushes me.”
“So, you think it’s fine to attack him because he pushes you?”
“Don’t mock me!”
“I’m not mocking you, because that would mean I think you’re a joke, and I’m not laughing, Antonio, far from it. You need to take responsibility for what you’ve done to Chris, so does Papà. You both care more about yourselves than that poor boy, and I won’t take it anymore!”
“What the hell is happening?”
I froze at the sound of my grandfather’s voice.
“Maria? Antonio?” he asked.
“She’s gone mad,” my father replied. “Wants us to let Chris go.”
“Where’s Chris now?”
“In the study,” my mother spat. “Where you monsters left him trussed up.”
Footsteps passed the room, heading away from me. The door opened a second later. “Run,” my mother whispered, the other two gone.
I shot out of the room, just as a yell came from the lounge. I took off down the passage, glancing back as my father appeared in the lounge doorway.
“Stop, Chris!” he yelled.
But I didn’t. I ran. I ran for my life.
Chapter 48
~ CATHERINE ~
I shot across the road and headed down Highwick Park Drive, the phone call I’d gotten from Christopher telling me to meet him at the playground. He hadn’t said anything else, just to be there, then had hung up. I hadn’t thought twice about sneaking out to meet him, but it was the following call from his grandfather that made me look at every shadow, listen to every sound, the goosebumps pebbling my flesh not from the cold night, but straight up fear.
I ran towards the playground, desperate to get this over with quick. I needed to see with my own eyes that Christopher was all right, then let him know that I couldn’t leave with him.
A car drove past, causing me to dart behind a fence. I hid until I was sure it had gone, then sprinted across the road, jumping up onto the raised medium strip. I jumped down onto the other side, not slowing to cross the dead-end street. The swings in the playground lay still, an eerie quality surrounding them. I sat down on one, shivering in my bomber jacket and black jeans, the swing’s creaking putting me even more on edge.
I scanned the park and the small enclave of trees behind it, tensing as a shadow emerged from the trees, a tall figure walking towards me. I quickly pushed off the swing, praying it was Christopher, and that this wasn’t all one giant trap. My hand instinctively went to my rosary as the dark figure drew closer, ready to attack if it was someone else.
The dark figure pulled their hood back, revealing Christopher. My relief only lasted a second, his upset expression making my heart plummet.
I went to him. “What happened?” I asked, grabbing his hand. “Are you all right?”
He shook his head. “I fought with my famiglia. They tied me up and locked me in the study
. But my mother freed me.”
I squeezed his hand, wondering whether my call had made the difference. “Why did they do it?”
“They caught me stealing money, realised I was going to run away. They basically forced me down.” His voice hitched. “I can’t believe this. Can’t believe they think what they did was right. How could they do that to me? That’s not love, that’s... Dio! I don’t know what it is, but it’s not love.”
“It’s demonic,” I replied.
He jerked his hand out of mine. “Don’t say that.”
“Why deny it? They’re obviously demons. It’s the only explanation for their behaviour.”
He brought his hand to his forehead. “My mother said something similar, was yelling at my father about it. He denied it.”
“He can deny it all he wants, but your mum’s telling the truth. It said in one of Sister Cecile’s books that all Merges are born angels, and that we only become demons if we allow our souls to be corrupted. It’s not hereditary, it’s by choice.”
“What does that mean for me?”
“You’re good, you’re an angel, but your granddad... I scoured the books about possession, went through all of them, and they all said that only demons can possess innocents without consent. If your granddad’s threats about possessing you are real, then he’s a demon.”
“He could just be part.”
“There are no part demons, Merges are either full angels or full demons. The book I read was quite clear about that.”
“But my father treats my grandfather like an angel.”
“He’s a Denier.”
“That’s not what a Denier is. It’s to do with Merges forsaking their heritage for human culture.”
“As well as demons thinking they’re angels.”
He shook his head. “No, that’s not—”
“It is, there was a whole chapter about it. Deniers aren’t just Merges wanting to be humans, they’re also demon Merges wanting to be angels, just without actually being good. And I think your family are like that.”
“No! A demon attacked me because I’m an angel. Because my famiglia are angels.”
“Demons attack each other, constantly fighting over the legendary rosaries. They have a need for what angels have, but angels only want what belongs to them, which is their own rosaries, not others.”
Stella Maris (The Legendary Rosaries) Page 34
