Chapter 14 #2
But there’s no God here. This is the house of the devil. And even he’d be kinder than this.
They hate kids here. They hurt us, and no one does a thing. Because nuns are supposed to be nice. They don’t hurt kids. They help them.
What a lie.
When I get older, I’ll make the world see what this place is really like. I’ll burn it to the ground.
“Your mother didn’t want you to know her name.” She sneers. “She didn’t want to be associated with a weak, ugly thing like you.”
I cry again. Everything hurts.
“No!” I shout even as the tears leak from my eyes. “She—she’d l-love me if she met me.”
She chuckles so hard she almost drops to the floor. “Oh, that is hilarious. She doesn’t want you, Adriel. She left you here for a reason. She never once asked about you. Never called. Never even wrote a letter to ask how you were.”
She kneels and grabs my chin, tilting up my eyes to her demonic ones.
“You meant nothing to her or your father. I bet she would’ve gotten rid of you while you were still in her belly, but her mother was religious, and she’d never have allowed that. Or your mother would end up in hell like you.”
“This—this is hell.” My chin trembles.
Her face grows with unrestrained rage and her eyes, almost black, grow closer until her nose is touching mine.
“You don’t know hell.” Her fingers bite into my skin. “This place is a gift for wicked little boys like you. You should thank us instead of being so ungrateful.”
She stares at me in disgust and hits me again, the whip right across my back.
“Sister Mary!” Sister Agnes calls. “That’s enough for today.”
She’s older. Her superior. But she’s no better.
“Go on, Adriel. Go to Sister Laura,” Agnes says. “She will clean you up.”
I grab my clothes and run out of there, hiding behind my whimpers as my feet throb and ache with the burns she put there. But I ignore it, needing to escape as far away from her as possible.
Entering my room, I put my underwear back on, dropping to the floor as I sob.
“Why?!” I ask as though my mother can hear me. “Why did you leave me here all alone?”
But no answer comes. She never cared about me then, and she doesn’t care about me now.
My hand clamps against my thigh as I concentrate on Sophia, needing to forget Sister Mary and all the others who ruined me.
It wasn’t the first time she did that, beat me until I wanted to die. Through the years, it was all she did, reminding me she was in charge.
But she’s dead now, along with all of them. Their sins exposed. It’s what I did before I burned that place down. I collected the evidence, the photos they took, the videotapes, showing all the ugly things they’d done. It was like they wanted to keep them as keepsakes of their depravity.
But as they sat there tied up in a circle, screaming through the gags, I told them what I planned to do. Reveal all of their sins, make the world know who they all were. Then I swore they’d burn. And I kept every single word. I’m anything but dishonest.
I grin, enjoying this memory now. Sister Mary’s screams are a comfort, like I’m still that boy who needed saving. And these memories? They give him that.
Give me that.
Watching Sophia, who was about my age when I was hurt that way, I can’t imagine it happening to her. I’d never let it.
Sitting on the bench, out on a rocky path leading up to a walk-through, I see her well, but she doesn’t see me. This is the only bench here, so I can watch her from a distance, a small shrub covering me from view.
I don’t even know why I’m still here.
I haven’t had many reasons to follow the girl. She’s not involved in any of this. And sure, maybe I don’t have to kill her father, but if it hurts my mother, then even her pain is worth it.
Sophia kicks the ball hard, and it heads in my direction, rolling closer and closer. Until it hits my foot.
She bounces after it, telling her friend she’ll be a second.
I pick it up, waiting for her to run over to me. When she does, I hold it out for her.
“Here you go.” I get to my feet, reaching out my hand to hers.
“I hope I didn’t hit you, sir.” She grins, toothy and adorable.
Sir. That makes me laugh internally.
“That’s okay.”
Her brows squint. “You look a little familiar. Do I know you?”
“I don’t think so.” I settle back down.
She taps her temple with her forefinger. And then her eyes pop. “Oh! From Grandpa and Grandma’s wedding! You told me you weren’t Daddy’s friend.”
Shit. How the hell does this tiny human have such a good memory?
“Hmm. Don’t recall. Who is your daddy?”
“Michael Marino.”
“Ah, yes.” I nod thoughtfully. “I do know of him.”
Definitely can’t lie to little Satan. She’d know.
“And yes, I did attend your grandmother’s wedding. She looked happy.”
“She is! Grandpa Patrick is the best. He’s so funny! Did you talk to him at the wedding?”
“Haven’t had the pleasure.”
She sits right beside me. “He makes the best food. Do you know how to cook? Because Daddy says everyone should know how to cook.”
But she doesn’t let me get a word in, continuing in her bubbly kind of way.
“He taught me how to make tomato sauce from scratch! I also know how to make bread and calzones!”
“Well, you’re definitely better than me. I’m not much of a cook.”
Of course, I lie. I cook quite well. Had to learn, living on my own.
“Oh, then you really should meet my grandpa. Because he can teach you.”
Pretty sure he doesn’t care enough about me to teach me anything.
“He once made pizza from scratch, and it tasted better than the best pizzeria in the city! Can you believe that?” Her eyes sparkle, and I can’t help but smile.
“What else does he make?”
“He makes seafood broth, which all the grownups like, but…” She makes a gag face. “I don’t like that stuff. Too fishy.” She giggles.
“I don’t like fish either.” The confession comes easily.
“Really?” Her face lights up, eyes wide-eyed. “What do you like to eat?”
“I like pizza, steak, or burgers.”
“Oh! Maybe you can come over sometime and have some with us! My dad loves to barbecue, and my mommy, Elsie, makes the best macaroni and cheese.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think your parents would want me there. They don’t really know me.”
She waves off the comment. “Everyone is a stranger to each other at first until they become friends.”
Where did this kid come from?
“That’s pretty insightful for…uh…how old are you?”
Of course, I already know her age.
“Six. What does insightful mean?” Her brows furrow in an endearing kind of way.
“Means you’re smart.”
“Oh, duh!” She rolls her eyes. “I knew that already.”
I let out a laugh.
“My daddy says I’m super smart all the time.”
I nod. “Everyone has to be right about something at least once…” I whisper that last bit.
“Do you know he saved me when I was a baby?”
My curiosity is piqued. “Did he? How?”
“My birth parents died in a fire, and he rushed in and saved me. He’s a hero!”
“Mm-hmm…”
I didn’t know that.
She tilts her head and examines me like a tiny spy, trying to get inside my head. “Do you not like my daddy?”
No.
“I mean, he’s okay…”
She giggles. “You’re funny.”
“Sophia!” Mabel calls. “Where are you?”
“Uh-oh.” She grimaces and jumps to her feet. “I gotta go before I get in trouble. Thanks for the ball.” She gathers it in both hands. “Maybe I’ll see you next time, sir.”
“Maybe.” I give her a half-smile as she turns to rush off. “But, Sophia?”
She stops and glances back over her shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Be careful, okay? There are a lot of bad people in this world. Don’t make it a habit to talk to strangers.”
“But you’re not a stranger. You were at Grandma’s wedding, silly, so it means we’re friends now.” She grins.
“Friends, huh?”
“That’s right! What’s your name, by the way?”
Don’t tell her.
“Andy.”
“Nice to officially meet you, Andy.”
“Nice to meet you too, Sophia.”
“Bye!” She waves and rushes away.
I watch her go, getting up to make sure she gets to Mabel before I start back to my car. And I know right here and now, I’d do anything for this little girl.
Anything at all.
No matter whose name she carries.