by Logan Fox
He cups my face in his hands, wiping a strand of hair from my cheeks with his thumb. “You look just like her. It’s uncanny.”
Is he talking about Mom? Where is she, anyway?
“Where’s Mom and Dad?” I should know the answer, but I don’t. Another memory that refuses to come when called.
His smile fades a little. “Don’t worry about them. We’ll get along just fine on our own.” He goes back to his side of the island.
I watch as he eats while my stomach grumbles quietly to itself. It probably means I’m hungry, but the thought of putting food in my mouth isn’t in the least appealing. There’s a soft pattering nearby, and I turn to look at the kitchen window. A gust of wind blows rain against the panes, smudging the world outside.
It’s difficult to tell the time of day with the sun hidden behind the clouds, but I’m sure it’s not breakfast time. Closer to midday, perhaps even past. And we’re all the way back in Redford, a trip that takes hours, but I don’t remember a single moment of it.
And then I do.
The bell tower. Gabriel has a needle. Apollo tries to stop him but he can’t. It hurts going in but then my fear, my resistance, it all melts away into warm, cotton candy nothingness.
After that, there’s only bits and pieces floating around in my head.
A long car drive tainted with the stink of cigarette smoke.
Stopping in front of my old house.
The overwhelming conviction that everything was right with the world, and I was exactly where I belonged.
“What did you give me?” I ask him. Not angry, not even scared.
Gabriel studies me over the brim of his coffee cup for a moment, and then takes a small sip before setting it down.
“Heroin,” he says. Then he gives me a small, secretive little smile. “You’ll love it. Your mother did.”
“You must be getting cold,” Gabriel says as he starts washing his breakfast plate in the sink. I’m still where he put me, and I have a feeling I’ll stay here until he decides to move me again.
“No,” I tell him, and quite truthfully. It feels like I’m wrapped in a thick, invisible cocoon. I don’t even feel air moving against my skin.
“Let me just finish up here, then we’ll go get you cleaned up and into something warm.”
He’s so nice. Always thinking of others.
“I loved them both, you know,” Gabriel says, turning to me as he flicks soapy water off his hands. “It probably sounds strange.” He smiles, laughs softly. “How can you possibly love two people?” Wiping his hands against his jeans, he deepens his smile as he comes closer. “But truly, I did.”
He holds out his hand.
I take it.
It’s still a little damp, but so warm. His grip is tight as he pulls at me, urging me to slip off the stool and follow him upstairs.
“We met at Saint Amos. Of course, back then, it was called Friends of Faith.” He clicks his tongue. “Horrible place. Horrible.” Sighs. “Better now, after the church took over. The new administration was a breath of fresh air.”
He opens the bathroom door, pulls me through, and lowers me onto the closed toilet seat. I sit there and watch as he turns on the tub’s faucet.
“Bubbles?” he asks, holding out a bottle of purple liquid.
I shrug a little. “Sure.”
He tips some in and bubbles boil up and start spreading like a plague.
“You probably think I’m a hopeless romantic.” Gabriel toes off his shoes and goes onto his knees on the carpet in front of the bath. He sticks a hand in the water, agitating it so more bubbles form. “But truly, I was in love. I believe we all were.” He pauses. “That’s why we named you Trinity. Because you were our child. All three of us.”
I nod. Love is a wonderful thing.
He catches sight of the movement from the corner of his eye. “Have you ever been in love?”
“I am.”
He frowns a little at this. “Really? With who?”
“The Brotherhood.”
His frown deepens. He sits back on his heels, putting his head to one side. “I don’t follow.”
I shrug. “Weird. I know. But I am.” Talking is easy. Once I get going, I can’t seem to stop. “I’m not sure about Zach. He scares me. But I love Reuben. And Cass. And Apollo. Different, but the same, you know?”
Gabriel reaches over and turns off the faucet, his eyes not leaving mine. When he speaks, it’s slowly and carefully, like he wants to make sure I understand every word.
“You mean you like them. You were friends with them?”
“No. I slept with them. All of them.”
The slap comes out of nowhere. I don’t even realize it’s happened until after. Suddenly, I’m facing the wall by the bath, and there’s a fierce tingling ache on the side of my face. I turn back to face Gabriel, working a jaw that feels rusty.
White spots pop up on his cheeks. He turns back to the tub, twisting open the faucet so hard it squeaks.
“A whore,” he says quietly as if to himself. “Your father said this would happen. Said you’d take after your mother.”
I lift a hand to my cheek. I should be insulted, but it feels like I’m watching this all play out from the back of my mind. When my body moves, it’s like someone else is doing it. When I speak, I’m hearing those words for the first time. “But I love them.”
Gabriel swipes a hand through his hair, leaving a clump of bubbles on the side of his head. They start popping, and I swear it sounds like a hissing snake.
“She could have had her pick,” he says, shaking his head. “Any boy at that school would have been happy just to have her look in his direction.” He nods fiercely, whipping up more and more bubbles. “But she chose my Keith. Always wanted what she couldn’t have, your mother.”
His head snaps around. He looks me up and down, a disgusted sneer pulling at his mouth. “You’re filthy,” he says, in much the same tone of voice he’s been using the whole time. “I hate filth.”
“Is it because of the basement?” I’m dimly aware that I shouldn’t be saying this stuff. That I should be keeping quiet. But my mouth’s on automatic. Words spill out before I can filter them. “Because maybe if you’d cleaned the boys more, you wouldn’t hate filth. It’s psychological. Must be. You hate yourself for what you did. So you hate whatever reminds you of that place.”
Gabriel stops with the bubbles. He doesn’t look at me as he sits back on his heels, hands dangling over the side of the tub and dripping water and bubbles. Then he leans over and closes the faucet.
After the last drop falls, the bathroom is quiet but for the faint hiss of the bubbles.
He clears his throat, but it doesn’t make his voice any smoother. “What basement?”
“The one you kept the boys in.”
He whips his head to face me, eyes wide. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, but his words sound so hollow, I wonder why he bothers trying to lie.
“You kept them there for years. Four little boys. More, I think. But those four were special. You kept them the longest.”
Gabriel tries to stand, but there’s something wrong with his legs. They tangle, and he ends up sitting on the edge of the bath. The whites of his eyes gleam, his eyebrows almost at his hairline.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says again. Voice hoarse now, but still so rehearsed.
My fingertips start tingling. At first, I think it’s because I’m scared. Terrified even. At least, I should be, somewhere deep inside. It only makes sense.
But then I realize it’s the heroin wearing off.
Can’t let him know, though. I have to take whatever advantage I can get, even a tiny one. So I make sure not to move. I try and keep my breathing at the same steady pace. And I continue talking.
“Apollo.”
Gabriel’s lips part suddenly, as if he’s about to object. But he says nothing. Just sits there on the edge of the bath, gripping the porcelain with white-knuckled hand
s.
“He’s the one that broke your nose.”
His eyes flinch. He shakes his head. “I don’t know what—”
“Cassius.”
Gabriel’s chest moves as he takes a deep breath. He suddenly seems to break out of whatever spell he’d been under. Standing, he steps closer, towering over me.
His expression is neutral as he slides his hand under my armpits and lifts me onto my feet.
And I let him.
Because if I try to fight him now, there’s no way I’ll win. And then he’ll know I tried to trick him. I can’t take a chance like that—I don’t know how many I’ll get. Right now, he’s preoccupied. I’ve pushed him off course.
“I guess they probably changed their names or something,” I say.
I expect him to deny it again. But this time he’s silent. I guess he’s trying to ignore me, but I can tell from the aggression in his movements that what I’m saying is hitting home.
The way he tugs at my dress to get it off. How his face contorts when I do nothing to help or hinder him. The way he draws back, as if startled by the fact that I’m not wearing underwear.
I have to use everything I can.
“They cut my panties off with a knife,” I tell him. Lying is so easy. Maybe it’s something to do with the residue of the drug floating around in my brain. I have no idea how they work, but it’s as if it’s annihilated every single filter I’ve ever had.
“Trinity.” His voice is unsteady. He steps back, watches me. “Stop.”
“Why?” I tilt my head to the side. “I thought you like this kind of thing.”
His eyes go wide again. “You don’t know anything,” he whispers furiously. “You’re a child playing with—”
“I thought you liked children,” I say. It’s becoming more difficult to keep my voice neutral. Emotions are coming back. Shame. I don’t want to be standing naked in front of a priest. In front of a man I once thought of as my only friend.
But I also don’t want to stay here, with him. I don’t want to find out what he planned to do with me here, alone in my old house. The fact that he keeps comparing me with my mother, a woman he claims to have loved, when I can see only hate in his eyes.
“What are you insinuating?” He takes another step back. He’s almost at the closed door now. Can I drive him out completely?
I put my head straight again, fight every cell in my body not to cover my chest or twist my legs. “I’m saying I know about the children you kept in the basement. The ones you hired out to those men.”
I step forward.
His back hits the closed door. His eyes go even wider, and they start searching my face, frantic. What are you looking for, Gabriel? A sign that this is a nightmare, and not real life?
Trust me, that wish never comes true.
“I don’t know what you’re—” he says hoarsely.
“And they know about you.” I stop walking because I can’t bear to be closer right now. My skin feels like it’s crawling with insects. Hundreds of them. The kind with little hooks all over their legs. And those legs, those hooks, they keep snagging on the fine hairs all over my naked body.
“No,” he whispers, giving his head one shake. “No, you’re wrong. You’ve got it all wrong.”
And that’s when the cold hits me.
I don’t know how those boys kept the cold out, because I can’t. I’ve never been able to. It’s like I was wearing a blanket, and some invisible hand snatched it away.
A shudder ripples through me so hard that my teeth clench.
Gabriel looks at me. At my trembling body. And I guess he realizes what’s happening. Something switches on in his head. Or off.
Because where I was convinced—convinced—he was about to tell me everything, perhaps even break down in a fit of conscience—
Gabriel throws back his head and laughs. Just once.
He grabs me.
On instinct, I struggle.
But I guess he’s had a lot of practice dealing with unruly kids, because he kicks my legs out from under me and tips me to the side in one smooth motion.
My shin slams into the side of the bath, but that barely slows me.
One minute I’m standing, the next I’m under a sea of hot water and bubbles. My gasp of shock has me choking, my throat burning as water goes where it shouldn’t.
I fucked up.
I pushed too hard.
I thought I was ready, but I clearly wasn’t. My struggles are weak and pathetically ineffectual against Gabriel’s strong arms.
He easily holds me under the water. When I reach up and try to gauge out his eyes, all I’m really doing is brushing his face with my fingers.
I manage to close my mouth. Hold my breath. It hurts like nothing I’ve ever felt, because my lungs still want to expel the water that went down my windpipe. And I’m trying to suppress those convulsions best I can.
Pain flickers red hot inside me. Building. Building.
My eyes are open, and they burn too because the water’s too hot.
I don’t know how long I can hold my breath, but it already feels like it’s been too long.
My limbs are so heavy. My body weighs a fucking ton.
I can’t even reach Gabriel’s face anymore. So I try and grab onto his shirt.
Can’t hold on.
Hands slap into the water.
My body convulses on its own, this time I can’t stop it, and my lungs empty themselves. It takes forever, but then it’s over in a heartbeat.
Only pain and emptiness left now.
And the faint sensation of his hands on my shoulders, holding me down.
Chapter Nine
Rube
“Anything?” Apollo asks quietly as soon as he spots me. I’m sitting on the couch, Trinity’s big white bible on my lap. I was reading it, but not with enthusiasm like I usually do. More just paging through, hoping for a sign that she’d read it too. A dog-eared corner. Some notes in pencil.
But there’s no trace of her on here.
Maybe she never even opened it.
Which means I have nothing to remember her by.
“I’d have told you,” I say, closing the bible and letting out a sigh.
It’s been almost hours since I watched that car drive away. I’ve been waiting for a contact of mine who has an in at the Bureau to run Gabriel’s plates and see if he comes up anywhere. But it’s as if they disappeared off the face of the planet. For all I know, they switched cars as soon as they hit Redwater.
I rub my eyelids.
Zachary’s been MIA. I saw him last at the front entrance of Saint Amos, a fact I reluctantly laid out to my brothers as we began piecing together what had happened this morning.
None of them reacted like I’d expected when I told them what Zach had done. Cass just stared, and Apollo let out a rueful snort like I’d told him he lost a bet he hadn’t been expecting to win anyway.
I don’t even know if he’s still here at Saint Amos. We’d know when we go to the garage. And that’ll be soon, because we have to leave.
That much we’ve decided on at least.
But where do we go? Anywhere past Redwater could be taking us further away from Trinity, from Gabriel. And we’d have no way of knowing.
We tried everything. Searched every record of Gabriel and Trinity’s in the admin office. All we found were dead ends. Gabriel had cleaned house.
I don’t blame Zach for hiding. I would too if I got a message like the one I sent him earlier.
WE WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU
I didn’t have to ask the others. I know they feel the same. Apollo’s chewed his nails to the quick. I’m surprised Cass hasn’t passed out from oxygen deprivation from chain-smoking.
They’re fucked.
We’re fucked.
And Zach did nothing. He just stood there and watched. For all we know, he helped Gabriel carry Trinity to his damn car. Maybe even wished him well as Gabriel sped off.
“Might as well head to
Redwater,” I say, standing. “Nothing more we can do here.”
“I’ll get Cass,” Apollo says, turning.
I go to put Trinity’s bible on the coffee table, but then hesitate.
I should take it with.
If we find her, I want to give it back to her.
Not if. When.
When.
When.
“What were you reading?” Apollo asks.
I frown at him. “Nothing specific.”
“I mean…” Apollo rolls his eyes. “Read it to me.” He lifts his shoulders.
“You want me to read to you from the bible?” I know my frown is deep, but Apollo looks hurt at my expression.
“Well, yeah.” He flicks his hand. “Wanna know what it says.”
I turn my head a little to the side. “It’s the bible,” I repeat. “It says a lot.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “Never mind then,” he mutters and heads for the door. Apollo’s never once shown an interest in religion. Spirituality, maybe, when he’s high. But that’s always been a more Universal Mind thing.
I didn’t even stop for a moment to think what he and Cass are going through right now. How losing Trinity, then Gabriel, then Zach, affected them.
I clear my throat, and Apollo pauses by the door. Quickly scanning the page, I pick the first verse that stands on its own.
“Moreover, brethren, I would not that ye should be ignorant, how that all our fathers were under the cloud, and all passed through the sea. And were all baptized unto Moses in the cloud and—”
Apollo cuts me off with a wave of his hand. “Stop, stop. What use is that?”
“What were you expecting?” I ask, sitting back, closing the book, and putting it down on the cushion beside me. “A map?”
“Something inspiring,” he says. “Not random—” He waves his hand again. “Forget it. I’ll go find Cass and meet you at the garage.”
I shake my head, letting out a long sigh as he closes the door behind him. Something inspiring?
I should have flipped to Revelations instead, read him chapter twenty verse ten.
And the devil that deceived them was cast into the lake of fire and brimstone, where the beast and the false prophet are, and shall be tormented day and night for ever and ever.
