He whips his head to face me, eyes wide. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, but his words sound so hollow, I wonder why he bothers trying to lie.
“You kept them there for years. Four little boys. More, I think. But those four were special. You kept them the longest.”
Gabriel tries to stand, but there’s something wrong with his legs. They tangle, and he ends up sitting on the edge of the bath. The whites of his eyes gleam, his eyebrows almost at his hairline.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says again. Voice hoarse now, but still so rehearsed.
My fingertips start tingling. At first, I think it’s because I’m scared. Terrified even. At least, I should be, somewhere deep inside. It only makes sense.
But then I realize it’s the heroin wearing off.
Can’t let him know, though. I have to take whatever advantage I can get, even a tiny one. So I make sure not to move. I try and keep my breathing at the same steady pace. And I continue talking.
“Apollo.”
Gabriel’s lips part suddenly, as if he’s about to object. But he says nothing. Just sits there on the edge of the bath, gripping the porcelain with white-knuckled hands.
“He’s the one that broke your nose.”
His eyes flinch. He shakes his head. “I don’t know what—”
“Cassius.”
Gabriel’s chest moves as he takes a deep breath. He suddenly seems to break out of whatever spell he’d been under. Standing, he steps closer, towering over me.
His expression is neutral as he slides his hand under my armpits and lifts me onto my feet.
And I let him.
Because if I try to fight him now, there’s no way I’ll win. And then he’ll know I tried to trick him. I can’t take a chance like that—I don’t know how many I’ll get. Right now, he’s preoccupied. I’ve pushed him off course.
“I guess they probably changed their names or something,” I say.
I expect him to deny it again. But this time he’s silent. I guess he’s trying to ignore me, but I can tell from the aggression in his movements that what I’m saying is hitting home.
The way he tugs at my dress to get it off. How his face contorts when I do nothing to help or hinder him. The way he draws back, as if startled by the fact that I’m not wearing underwear.
I have to use everything I can.
“They cut my panties off with a knife,” I tell him. Lying is so easy. Maybe it’s something to do with the residue of the drug floating around in my brain. I have no idea how they work, but it’s as if it’s annihilated every single filter I’ve ever had.
“Trinity.” His voice is unsteady. He steps back, watches me. “Stop.”
“Why?” I tilt my head to the side. “I thought you like this kind of thing.”
His eyes go wide again. “You don’t know anything,” he whispers furiously. “You’re a child playing with—”
“I thought you liked children,” I say. It’s becoming more difficult to keep my voice neutral. Emotions are coming back. Shame. I don’t want to be standing naked in front of a priest. In front of a man I once thought of as my only friend.
But I also don’t want to stay here, with him. I don’t want to find out what he planned to do with me here, alone in my old house. The fact that he keeps comparing me with my mother, a woman he claims to have loved, when I can see only hate in his eyes.
“What are you insinuating?” He takes another step back. He’s almost at the closed door now. Can I drive him out completely?
I put my head straight again, fight every cell in my body not to cover my chest or twist my legs. “I’m saying I know about the children you kept in the basement. The ones you hired out to those men.”
I step forward.
His back hits the closed door. His eyes go even wider, and they start searching my face, frantic. What are you looking for, Gabriel? A sign that this is a nightmare, and not real life?
Trust me, that wish never comes true.
“I don’t know what you’re—” he says hoarsely.
“And they know about you.” I stop walking because I can’t bear to be closer right now. My skin feels like it’s crawling with insects. Hundreds of them. The kind with little hooks all over their legs. And those legs, those hooks, they keep snagging on the fine hairs all over my naked body.
“No,” he whispers, giving his head one shake. “No, you’re wrong. You’ve got it all wrong.”
And that’s when the cold hits me.
I don’t know how those boys kept the cold out, because I can’t. I’ve never been able to. It’s like I was wearing a blanket, and some invisible hand snatched it away.
A shudder ripples through me so hard that my teeth clench.
Gabriel looks at me. At my trembling body. And I guess he realizes what’s happening. Something switches on in his head. Or off.
Because where I was convinced—convinced—he was about to tell me everything, perhaps even break down in a fit of conscience—
Gabriel throws back his head and laughs. Just once.
He grabs me.
On instinct, I struggle.
But I guess he’s had a lot of practice dealing with unruly kids, because he kicks my legs out from under me and tips me to the side in one smooth motion.
My shin slams into the side of the bath, but that barely slows me.
One minute I’m standing, the next I’m under a sea of hot water and bubbles. My gasp of shock has me choking, my throat burning as water goes where it shouldn’t.
I fucked up.
I pushed too hard.
I thought I was ready, but I clearly wasn’t. My struggles are weak and pathetically ineffectual against Gabriel’s strong arms.
He easily holds me under the water. When I reach up and try to gauge out his eyes, all I’m really doing is brushing his face with my fingers.
I manage to close my mouth. Hold my breath. It hurts like nothing I’ve ever felt, because my lungs still want to expel the water that went down my windpipe. And I’m trying to suppress those convulsions best I can.
Pain flickers red hot inside me. Building. Building.
My eyes are open, and they burn too because the water’s too hot.
I don’t know how long I can hold my breath, but it already feels like it’s been too long.
My limbs are so heavy. My body weighs a fucking ton.
I can’t even reach Gabriel’s face anymore. So I try and grab onto his shirt.
Can’t hold on.
Hands slap into the water.
My body convulses on its own, this time I can’t stop it, and my lungs empty themselves. It takes forever, but then it’s over in a heartbeat.
Only pain and emptiness left now.
And the faint sensation of his hands on my shoulders, holding me down.
Chapter Nine
Rube
“Anything?” Apollo asks quietly as soon as he spots me. I’m sitting on the couch, Trinity’s big white bible on my lap. I was reading it, but not with enthusiasm like I usually do. More just paging through, hoping for a sign that she’d read it too. A dog-eared corner. Some notes in pencil.
But there’s no trace of her on here.