10. Cain
CAIN
They had my hands bound behind my back as I sat in the small interrogation room. The metal of the cuffs dug into the flesh around my wrists leaving red, angry welts that burned with even the smallest movement. It’d been hours now and still they kept me sitting here, trying to make me break.
It was clear that no one cared how innocent I was. What they cared about was the word of a supposed holy man. A man whose word held far too much power. I’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time and now I was paying for it.
I hadn’t said a goddamn word since I got here, and no amount of questioning was going to break me of that.
I knew my rights and had seen my fair share of true crime documentaries to know that talking only buried you.
They hadn’t even allowed me a lawyer yet.
That had to be illegal. Keeping a minor through hours of interrogation.
Unless my parents agreed and knowing them, they probably did.
They probably believed that motherfucker’s lies just like the rest of them.
I had tattoos and a bad attitude. Pastor John had a position at one of the most prestigious private schools on the east coast. Some people only saw what they wanted to and not what the truth was.
Kingston Prep was more interested in keeping their reputation in pristine condition and they were too well connected to go down without a fight.
Better to have a fuck-up kid take the fall than mar their hallowed halls with another scandal.
They were already scrambling from when a girl’s disappearance made national headlines last year.
I didn’t stand a chance against them, but in my mind, I was already envisioning how I would make the bastard pay if I ever got out of here. And for what he’d done to her.
I saw what he’d done to her. How he’d defiled her. How scared she was. For an asshole that preached about the importance of purity, he sure didn’t seem too concerned with hers.
Fuck. I couldn’t get her face out of my head.
I could still see her cheeks streaked with tears and hear her desperate, frightened screams. No matter what I did, I couldn’t scrub it from my mind.
Punching that fucker’s lights out hadn’t been nearly enough.
I’d do it again and again until I hit bone if I could.
Maybe that made me a sick fuck that deserved to be locked away.
Maybe I would have ended up locked away eventually with the amount of rage I carried in my chest for how these people treated us.
Maybe I was bound to snap one day. Fuck knows that kind of temper was in my blood.
Kingston was poison. And it went back for generations, spitting out new fucked up versions of the same heartbreaking stories.
It would welcome you with a smile, promise to pray for you, and then slowly kill your spirit one awful day at a time.
And this latest shit shouldn’t have fucking surprised me, but it did.
I knew Pastor John was a fucking creep. Knew he had been obsessed with Delilah.
And what did I do about it? I walked away like he wanted me to, thinking it would be better for her if I heeded Pastor John’s warnings.
Or maybe I was too fucking scared. If I was being honest, a part of me was.
The last time I’d stood up to him, I spent two weeks recovering and I still wasn’t back to a hundred percent.
Which is probably why he was still breathing right now.
If I’d been at my peak physical health, Pastor John wouldn’t have a pulse right now.
But I couldn’t shake the knowledge that it was my fault he was able to gain access to her. I should have grabbed her off the floor the moment I saw her down there. Should have punched him directly in his temple, ending him once and for all. But I didn’t, and now I was paying the price .
They took me away with a certainty of my guilt, and experience had taught me that no amount of protesting would grant me my freedom back.
I was fucked the moment I barreled into that classroom, I just didn’t know it at the time.
No matter the outcome, I couldn’t stand by and let him continue to hurt her.
Her screams were echoing throughout the halls, but screams were a common occurrence.
No one batted an eye to hearing it, but I fucking did.
She was being hurt. And I couldn’t have that.
Most of the bastards that went to our school weren’t worth my attention. They were pansy ass rule followers. Too scared to even blink.
Not me. And not Delilah.
I respected the hell out of her little acts of rebellion.
Breaking into Pastor John’s office was a ballsy move, but it was more than that.
She had a spark inside her that was missing from most of the people that surrounded us.
It was that spark that drew me to her in the first place wanting to feel that warmth for myself, not caring if I got burned in the process.
“Montgomery!” The sheriff yelled out, making me jump.
He was a smug man, known to work closely with Kingston Prep.
A part of me suspected he knew all the evil that went on behind those doors and chose to look the other way.
After all, his was an elected position, and the people who ran Kingston had deep pockets, and a lot of influence.
“We spoke to your parents. Seems they won’t be coming to get you after all.
Better get comfortable. You’ll be staying here for the night,” he said, gripping me around my elbow while he pulled me up out of the small metal chair.
My feet were barely beneath me before he started moving.
We left the interrogation room and passed a small waiting area, a few unorganized desks, and a welcome area that was half decorated for Halloween and half for Christmas even though we were well into Spring.
The entire place smelled like old broccoli and body odor.
He led me to the only cell the station had to offer. It was empty, thankfully, and complete with one sagging cot, bright, flickering fluorescent lights, and a crooked urinal situated in the corner. Cozy.
I doubted my parents would want anything to do with me, and my brain whirled at what my options would be. Didn’t they offer representation for people who couldn’t afford one? Or was that only something they did in movies?
Maybe I should have paid more attention in my government class.
One more year and I would have been free of this place. Fuck. I knew better than to hope things could be different, that I could be so lucky to have the life I dared to want. I was so close too. Should have fucking known.
“Now, don’t get too comfortable. They’ll be sending someone to collect you in the morning,” the sheriff said, a grimace firmly planted on his sour-looking face.
He uncuffed me, and for the first time in hours, I was able to move my arms around.
Immediately, I rubbed the flesh around my wrists where the cuffs sat, knowing I better get used to the feeling.
Unfair, didn’t even begin to cover it. I was fucking raging, but punching out the sheriff wouldn’t win me any brownie points, so I kept my hands to myself and sat on the thin, musty cot.
The sheriff wouldn’t even look me in the eye, and I wondered if he knew this was all bullshit. If he did, he was fine with it. And that told me everything I needed to know about this motherfucker.
As he went to leave me sitting there alone, he turned back around giving me a glance over, making a tsk sound with his mouth. “Throwing your life away for some pussy. What a stupid thing to do,” he said, shaking his head then continuing out the barred door to lock me in for the night.
So, he did think I was guilty. Figures.
I could only imagine what Delilah must be feeling right about now.
Here I was, taken in the place of her rapist, unable to defend myself, and she was still out there with him.
There would be no one else left to protect her but herself, and that didn’t sit well with me.
While she was strong, she was also alone in a sea of monsters.
I’d done some damage to the prick, but not enough that it would stop him from being able to hurt her again. Something told me that since she was in the same school as me, that her parents would be similar to mine. And if that was the case, she was truly fucked.
The people who sent their kids to Kingston were all twisted shits.
They thought sending us there would help turn us into the perfect obedient children, following along in their holy footsteps.
Teachers spent their time readying us to enter society and then spread their fucked-up ideology to the world.
They promised to set us up in high profile positions, if only we adhered to their way of thinking.
Many of the kids fell right in line, eating up every spoon fed lie, eager to please their wretched parents.
Anyone who questioned authority, or worse their faith, was dealt with swiftly.
Case in fucking point, I thought, looking around at my new cage.
But regardless of my new shitty circumstances, I still worried what would become of Delilah. Something told me that her parents wouldn’t have her back.
Pastor John had not only gotten a taste of her but had also gotten rid of me. The one person who was willing to stand up to him. To tell him that she didn’t belong to him. I’d most likely be booked and charged. Bye-bye life plans and hello prison.
Maybe I couldn’t get to him today. Maybe it would take five or ten years, but he unwittingly signed his own death warrant the moment he put his hands on her like that.
I would enjoy seeing the life choked out of him.
If I ever got out of here, I’d make every single one of those fuckers pay for what they did to her. And to me. And to every kid they fucked up with their arrogant, power-hungry, corrupt ways.