Chapter 46
Chapter Forty-Six
CARTER
Heather pulls the cross from her mother’s skin, flesh coming with it. It’s equally gross and beautiful. Our girl isn’t one you fuck with.
“My God, my God. Why have you forsaken me?” The Prophet groans.
“Carter?” Heather says, turning to me, her expression warm and so fucking sweet. Whatever she asks is hers, and I’m sure we both know that.
“I do not want you to kill him. But maybe you can do something to make him shut up? He’s breaking my concentration.”
Placing my finger and thumb on her chin I tilt her head back slightly. Her vibrant blue eyes stare into mine and nearly take my breath away.
“I thought you’d never ask, Little Heathen.”
Leaning down, I kiss her softly and quickly pull away to do what she asked of me.
“Lucky bastard.” Killian growls, and I flash him a grin.
“I know.”
Going to her black bag, I grab the cat o nine tails she made for this occasion. Knox bought the whip from an adult store but our girl glued metal crosses to the ends. She’s quite the crafty little minx. I hold it up for him to see, and his eyes widen when he spots the metal.
“Please don’t.” He begs before going into another round of scripture.
“ When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire, you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.”
I arch an eyebrow at Knox and he chuckles.
“Do you believe the shit coming out of your mouth, Prophet? God will not save you from this pain.”
Pulling my arm back, I swing forward hitting him in the stomach. Initially he hisses in pain but by the third strike he howls, sounding more like a wounded animal than a human being.
“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; grief, crying, and pain will be no more, because the previous things have passed-”
His skin is bright red with cuts through them and still he won’t shut up. This time I hit him in the mouth and it cuts his lip open and blood flows to his chin. He screams with each lash and I enjoy it thoroughly.
“This is for my girl, and every time you hurt her. An eye for an eye and all that shit.”
I take a deep breath as I spot Heather watching me, her eyes filled with love for me. This means something to her and spurs me on.
I hit him three more times across the chest, two of the crosses stick into his skin. I know it’s time to stop if I don’t want to kill him and as much as I’d like to, I won't take that from her.
“You do not speak unless spoken to.”
He is finally quiet when John Steve starts.
“Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty. This I declare about the Lord: He alone is my refuge, my place of safety; he is my God and I trust him.
I move over to him, pull my leg back and swing it forward, kicking him in the gut.
“Shut the fuck up.”
Heather bursts out in a fit of giggles.
“Annoying, isn’t it? This was my life. Nonstop scripture, but I knew even then they didn’t believe it. It was never anything more than a piss-poor excuse to hurt people. Innocent people. Defenseless children.”
Heather skips back to the black bag and then goes to her mother with one of the two paddles I made for her and sets it on the floor. Grabbing her head she tilts it to the side.
“Killian, can you hold her head exactly like this for me?”
He places a hand on either side of her head and holds her in a firm grip.
Heather lifts his arm.
“I don’t want to cut you.”
She pulls the knife out of her bun and leans over the side of her mother's face.
“Do you remember how much I loved to draw when I was little? I’m still an artist. I think you’ll be impressed with my talent.”
Her whimper is loud as she begs for mercy she does not deserve.
“Please Heather. I’m your mother. Don’t do this. I believe in forgiveness. Don’t you? I can be the mother you want me to be.”
She falters for a split second, her eyes welling up slightly from her mothers words.
Standing in front of the woman that gave birth to her, Heather shakes her head as if she’s trying to push the emotional pain away.
“I always wanted a mother who loved me. You know, to just be enough for her by merely existing. A good mother. One that would’ve protected me from my father instead of holding me down while he raped me.”
My Little Heathen, straightens her back, signaling that she has succeeded in shaking the pain away at least for now.
“That’s always been the dream, and that’s all it could ever be.
A dream because you’re incapable of love.
For a long time, I thought there was something wrong with me, but now I know the truth.
It’s you that’s broken, not me. You are evil with a soul as dark as night.
If there’s a hell, that’s where you’ll be while I stand in the sun.
When I wash your blood from my hands, I’ll let go of the pain.
I won’t allow you to haunt me, not anymore. ”
She removes her gloves and takes the knife to her mothers face and cuts into her flesh as Kill prevents movement of her head.
Blood pours from the cuts on her skin and drips on Heather's hands. Her eyes are shut tight as she cries from the pain. My girl continues to cut, slicing the word ‘hell’ onto her mother’s face.
“Knox. Can you help Killian get her on her hands and knees? It’s time for her punishment.”
Her hands and legs are chained, so my brother’s help her turn over while she screams.
“Daughters don’t do this to their mothers. This is a mortal sin.”
Heather doesn’t respond to her cries. She pulls her shirt up, exposing her back.
“This was always more painful than the ass but I suspect you knew that. These nails are rusty. If you’re wondering, it is intentional.
If you don’t die from the bleeding, an infection will get you.
We put them in a solution of peroxide, white vinegar and salt for days.
Isn’t YouTube amazing? You can literally learn anything. ”
The paddle has the word ‘revenge’ engraved on it and has fifty rusty nails poking through the other side.
Heather grips the wood in both of her hands as John Steve and the Prophet stare at her, eyes wide.
The fear in this room is palpable as she strikes her abuser on the back.
A guttural scream sounds from her, it's raspy and tortured. We watch our girl give exactly what was done to her. It’s a beautiful poetic justice.
When her mother collapses on the floor, she doesn’t stop.
She strikes her four more times when Killian finally stops her.
“Baby, if you kill her the pain stops. But, if you stop now, she dies slowly and lives in pain until her body eventually shuts down.”
“Thank you,” she says, sweetly, as she gets up and exchanges the paddle for the cattle prod.
“John Steve, you’re next!”