33. Trinity
It’s inappropriate to laugh after what Zachary said, but I have a hysterical need to giggle.
Then it went to shit?
“I don’t understand,” I say, carefully swallowing down any mirth that dares to bubble up. “I mean, did they catch the Ghosts? How does that lead to Gabriel? None of this makes sense!”
Zachary shakes his head. “None of the men who molested us were ever arrested by the FBI or the police. Not. One.”
I hug myself, and burrow deeper into my blanket. “Why? Didn’t you have enough evidence?”
“Oh, we had evidence—” Apollo begins, but he cuts off when Zachary throws a hard stare his way. I guess his turn to talk is over.
I haven’t heard Zachary’s story yet, or Reuben’s, but I’m already at the point where I want to tell them they’re making this up.
And even if they’re not, there’s no way Gabriel could be involved in something like this.
No fucking way.
“Two arrests were made,” Zachary says calmly.
“That’s it?”
He nods once. “There was a trial. The suspects were sentenced to death.”
My eyes go wide. The blanket creaks in my hand as I tighten my grip. “As in…the death penalty?”
Another nod. “They’ll be executed next month.” There’s that tick again. He clenches his jaw as if he’s suddenly aware of it, and swallows. “The investigation was closed a long, long time ago. According to the feds, they found everyone involved.”
“Tell her about Gabriel,” Reuben says. “She has to know.”
Zachary holds up a hand. Licks his lips. I’ve never seen him this unsure of himself, and it makes panic flutter deep in my belly.
Earlier, they seemed convinced Gabriel was, what? Some kind of kingpin? The guy responsible for all their pain and suffering.
Zachary opens his mouth, but he can’t seem to produce words.
For some reason, that terrifies me.
A hand lands on my shoulder. Reuben turns me to face him. It’s unreal, seeing such deep pain on such a young, vital face. He could have been the poster boy for a high school football team.
“I’d always beg my Ghost to tell me why he was doing what he was doing.” Reuben slaps his palm into his chest. Apollo flinches. “Why me ?”
My mouth goes dry and goosebumps race over my flesh.
His black eyes trap me like tar.
“He said I should ask the Guardian. That he could explain it.”
I’m hanging on every fucking word, but Reuben’s struggling with this as much as Zachary was. His wide chest rises and falls as his breathing becomes slow and deep.
“I told him—” Reuben burrows a hand into the top of my blanket. I don’t fight him—by now I know what he’s looking for. He takes hold of my crucifix and rubs the wood. It seems to calm him, because some tension leaves his face. “I told him I didn’t know who the Guardian was. That I only saw him. So he told me?—”
His voice grows thick. Rosewood hits my nose how hard he’s rubbing that crucifix.
“Rube,” Cass whispers from behind me. “Bro, you don’t have to?—”
“The Guardian said we were the cure.” Black eyes pin me. “That the Ghosts had a sickness. We kept their symptoms—those urges—at bay, so they could do their jobs.” His breath hitches. “So they could preach the Word of God without being plagued by their desires.”
My mouth falls open. Without thought, I lift my hands and wrap my fingers around Reuben’s fist. My chest closes rendering speech impossible, but there’s nothing I could have said anyway.
Nothing.
“When they were done—” He pauses to swallow. “When their visit was over, they would meet with the Guardian and confess their sins.”
Reuben’s hand trembles inside my fingers.
“And he would bless them, and make them pure again.”
He lets go of the crucifix, taking back his hand and slowly putting them face down on his thighs.
“Until their urges came back, of course,” Zachary says.
My heart fucking bleeds for these boys. I rub a palm over my collarbones, willing it to go inside and ease the ache they caused.
“Then the whole sick cycle would start all over again.” Cass leans close, sliding his hands over my shoulders. “All with the help of your BFF.”
I shake my head, and it frees a tear from my lashes. “No,” I whisper. “Please. I’m sorry about this. What happened to you. It’s…it’s fucking wrong and disgusting.” I haul in a breath and stand on shaky legs, turning to look at them. “But Father Gabriel didn’t have anything to do with this. I know him. He’s a good man. He’s always been there for us.”
Four stony faces watch me.
“Please. Believe me. It’s not him. He’s not your Guardian.”
Fabric rustles behind me. I whirl around as Zachary gets to his feet.
“We thought you’d say that.” He cocks his head and slowly scans me up and down. “And you’re right. We don’t have any proof. Not a?—”
Reuben sucks in a breath, but keeps quiet when Zachary holds up a hand.
What had he been going to say? Surely if they did have proof, they’d tell me?
“Not all miracles are divine, Trinity.” Zachary slides a hand around the back of my neck and draws me closer. I move on wooden legs, too entranced to even think of resisting. “But you? I swear on my life you were sent by God Himself.”
“What?” Is all I can manage.
“That proof? You’re going to find it for us.” His hand tightens cruelly, wrenching a gasp from me. “You’re going to bring it to us. And together we, us five…” He comes close enough to kiss me, for his commanding eyes to fill my world.
“We’ll make him give us the names of our Ghosts.”
I don’t want to know what comes next. Cold dread is already spreading through my limbs, going for my heart.
“And then we’ll catch them.” He brushes a curl from my face. “And we’ll inflict on them every wound, every pain, every bit of shame they inflicted on us.”
My heart bangs against my ribs. “Okay.”
“And then we’ll kill them.” His eyes don’t change in the slightest.
“Okay.”
Behind me, three voices chant one word in unison.
“Amen.”
I should be horrified at myself.
But I’m not.
I’ll prove to these damaged, tortured souls that Father Gabriel is the kind and loving man I know him to be.
And if, somehow, everything they say turns out to be true?
Well, then, I guess I’ve signed a deal with the devil.
A-fucking-men.