22. Trinity
Chapter 22
Trinity
Sister Miriam leads me to the first floor of the main building. We pass several administration offices until we reach one right at the end of the hall.
There’s a window. A desk. An office chair. A wooden cabinet and an old-school telephone with its receiver resting on the cradle.
It stinks of cigarettes in here, which is surprising because I didn’t take Sister Miriam for a smoker. Perhaps she received a visitor that did? Was that what she was busy with while Reuben was praying for me?
She says nothing as she walks up to the wooden cabinet.
I stand in the middle of the room, not moving a hair, hoping to delay the inevitable.
As if.
She finally turns to me, a strip of leather in her hand. Broad, maybe two inches. So stiff it barely moves as she steps closer.
“Close the door.”
“Sister—”
“Close the door!”
My eyes squeeze shut at her yell. I spin around and go to close the door.
When I turn, I notice a second chair. Now the cigarette smoke makes sense.
Brother Zachary Rutherford is here, smoking a cigarette. There’s a low table beside him, an overflowing ashtray, and a pack of filter-less cigarettes.
He takes a drag of his cigarette, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Over here, child,” Miriam calls.
“What’s he doing here?”
“Making sure I do my job,” she says stiffly.
From the sound of her voice, she’s about to take out a week’s worth of irritation on my ass.
Lashes.
In front of Zachary.
I’d beg, if I thought it would do any good. Fuck, I’d go down on my knees and pray.
I still have Reuben’s rosary. Its smell has been with me all this time, but it’s suddenly lost its calming effect.
“Move.”
I shuffle over on wooden legs.
“Hands here,” she says, using the stiff strip of leather to point to an empty space on the desk.
I press my palms to the table. I’m facing the wall, my side profile turned to Zachary.
“Feet back.”
I swallow hard and scoot my feet back a few inches.
“More.”
Now my ass is sticking out.
Hot, shameful tears fill my eyes. I try to blink them away, but they just end up rolling down my cheeks.
I squeeze my eyes shut when Miriam flips up my skirt. I’m convinced she’s going to tug down my underwear, but possibly to spare my modesty, she doesn’t.
There’s silence. Then I hear Zachary dragging on his cigarette, the dried tobacco leaves crackling faintly as they burn.
Thud.
Pain thumps into me. I gasp in surprise, vaguely proud I didn’t scream.
Thud.
That wasn’t so?—
Thud.
I yelp in pain. Choke on a ragged sob.
Thud.
My legs go out. The pain of my knees cracking on the wooden floor is nothing compared with the dull aching throb on my ass.
This is hell.
Sister Miriam is the Devil.
She loops her arm under my waist and drags me back to my feet. “Can you stand, or does Brother Zachary need to hold you up?”
“Stop,” I manage in a breathless whisper. “P-please, just stop!”
“Six more, child.” There’s a sudden catch in Miriam’s voice. “You can do this. But you have to stand.”
I manage a nod.
Thud.
I can’t help it—I let out a wretched howl of pain. I’m in danger of scraping my nails off on the desk.
What could I possibly have done to deserve this?
I can end this, though, can’t I?
If I tell Miriam it wasn’t me.
I’ll tell her to fetch Gabriel. He’ll vouch. Tell him I’ve been set up.
Thud
Another howl, this one stronger than the last. Somehow that helps with the pain. I’m panting now; loud, ugly sounds only an animal can make. My cheeks are wet with tears. My face scrunches up as I fight the urge to collapse on the floor.
Thud
My ears start buzzing.
My legs give out.
Miriam’s talking, telling me to stand.
But I can’t.
I have nothing left.
An arm hoists me up. I think it’s Miriam again, and that must mean she can’t hit me again because?—
Thud.
It’s Zachary.
I can smell his slightly-sweet brand of cigarettes.
All I have to do is say his name.
Cassius.
Say it and this will stop.
She’ll ask why? Why him?
I don’t know.
They hate me.
Him, Apollo, Reuben.
They hate me.
But I can end this.
Nothing can be as bad as this. What will they do? More pranks? More bullying? I don’t give a shit.
End this, Trinity.
Thud.
You can end this now. You just have to?—
Thud.
I let out a whimpering mewl. The arm that had been supporting me tightens. The world spins on its head, and then I’m staring up into Zachary’s jade eyes.
There’s something strange gleaming in them, but I don’t understand it.
Thought, reasoning—not possible.
There’s just pain.
It eats through me like a slow-burning fire. Like the dried tobacco in Zachary’s cigarette. Ebbing and flowing but ultimately moving deeper inside me.
“Take her to her room,” I hear Miriam say.
Zachary’s chest rumbles against my side when he replies. “Thank you, Sister.”
Miriam’s voice is tight. “Make sure she puts on the salve.”
That fire moves through me, consuming me. It leaves behind nothing but ash.
Zachary takes me out of the room. His chest pushes and retracts against my body. Sometimes his breath touches my face, but mostly it doesn’t.
I sometimes hear voices, and sometimes just the steady thump of his feet. With every step, my body grows more and more numb.
My eyes closed moments after we left Miriam’s office. I can’t remember how to open them again, even when a door creaks and a strange darkness falls over me.
Zachary puts me down on something soft. On my side.
I think he lifts my skirt, but I’m not sure until something skims over my sensitive flesh. I whimper and try to move away from that touch.
“Shh,” he murmurs.
The surface under me dips.
A bed.
There’s the sound of a lid being opened. The strong menthol tickles my nose.
“This will hurt.”
I suck in a breath as frozen fire streaks over my tender skin and I try to move away but he grabs my hip to keep me in place. Every stroke is like hot air on coals, stoking the fire buried deep within. Bringing it to the surface. I’d have started sobbing, but I’m spent.
So I lay there and somehow endure the agony.
I wish I could pray.
I wish there was someone who would listen.
I know it wouldn’t change anything, but wouldn’t it be nice to know you’re not alone?
I’m alone.
Even here with this sadistic fuck of a man who watches while a girl is beaten black and blue and then carries her somewhere dark and secret to hurt her some more….
Even here, with him, I’m still alone.
The bed shifts.
His hand slips off the back of my neck. There’s the sound of a lighter flicking. I expect cigarette smoke. But this is something else.
Pungent. Foreign.
The bed dips again.
“Open.”
Something dry pokes at my lips. I part them. “Inhale.”
I’m past the point of fighting this. So I do what he says and hope this is the last of it because I can’t take anymore.
I’m broken and used. A grubby porcelain doll with a cracked face, left to rot in the debris of an abandoned building. Once a treasured toy, now a spider’s nest.
The smoke makes me cough. But I take another drag anyway. Then again. Again. The pain is still there, but it’s distant now. And fading.
No, that’s me.
I’m fading.
Fingers brush my temple. A stray curl tickles the side of my ear. I let out a long breath, and my body finally relaxes.
“Who are you, Trinity Malone?”
My head thumps along with that distant pain. Something new worms its way into me. Something warm and fuzzy and…
Nice.
“No one,” I murmur.
“What are you doing here?”
“Nothing.”
I want to fade away completely. But he keeps asking me questions I’m compelled to answer.
“How do you know Gabriel?”
“He’s my friend. My best friend.”
There’s a long pause. So long, I almost do slip away. But then those fingers come back and touch the side of my face, tracing the outline of my jaw.
“I’d really hoped that wasn’t the case,” Zachary says.
The bed moves as he gets up.
I’m dimly aware this might not be my room. That I’m lying on a strange bed with my underwear around my knees and the back of my skirt hitched up. My hands tremble as I reach behind me, but Zachary snatches them by the wrists before I can adjust my clothing.
“You’re leaving. I’ll arrange a cab for you in the morning,” Zachary says. “Just give me an address.”
I laugh at him. “Fuck you.”
I hear the deep breath he takes, and that makes me regret what I said. But there’s no address I can give him. I don’t have anyone else. I don’t have anywhere else.
There’s a burst of dull pain as he yanks my underwear up my legs. “Sisters of Mercy it is.”
Hands slide under my waist. The world spins as he scoops me into his arms. Every thumping step he takes chafes my skin with fire.
We go down a flight of stairs, and then along a hallway. We’re back on my floor, headed for room 113. He barrels through the door and drops me on the bed.
On my back.
I flip onto my side with a hiss, tears pricking at my eyelids.
“Remember, Trinity, you chose the hard way,” Zachary says from the doorway. He tosses something my way, and it thumps against my tummy. Then he’s gone, my bedroom door slamming shut behind him.
I fumble for the cold, hard object pressing against my stomach.
The salve.
I wrap my fingers around it and curl into a ball.
I don’t cry, because there’s no point. Whatever I smoked dulled the pain enough that I can probably fall asleep. But sleep doesn’t come for a long time, because I keep replaying his last words to me.
You chose the hard way.
Just remember, Trinity.
You chose the hard way.