I nodded, gathering the cards with steady hands. I was more than ready. Gone were the nerves I had before.
“Fuck yes.”
He looked at me with so much adoration, I swear I felt like I could burst from happiness.
We hid in the coat closet, waiting until we heard John arrive. His gait sounded labored and he must have had a mobility device with him from the way it pinged and dragged across the floor.
“Ma, I got it. Would you stop? Go get your hair done. I’m fine. I don’t need you babying me,” I heard his voice and it sent a wave of shivers down my spine. Bastard. You could tell a lot about a man from how he treats his mother.
I couldn’t hear her response, but the door closed hard a moment later, and Cain’s video feed confirmed she was speeding away in her white BMW. Good. One less person to worry about. John and his mom weren’t particularly close anyway, so I knew she wouldn’t want to stick around for long. He wasn’t someone people liked to be around for long stretches of time anyway, despite his holy reputation.
The sound of ESPN playing filled the room and Cain tapped me on the shoulder three times. It was go time. We pulled on our matching masks and exited the closet as a united front. Cain, with John’s owngun drawn and pointed at him, and me, with a knife in hand ready to spill some blood.
“Oh, fuck!” John yelled, looking far weaker and frailer than I’d ever seen him. His face went ashen as he scrambled for his phone.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Cain said, head cocked.
“What do you want? I’ll give you anything!” his hands were shaking. It felt empowering seeing him be the scared one for a change.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Cain replied.
“I’ve got money upstairs—” John started.
“I don’t want your fucking money,” Cain screamed interrupting him. “I want your soul.”
John’s mouth dropped open as he looked between me and Cain. I watched as he realized he wouldn’t be able to buy his way out of this. His confusion and fear morphing quickly into anger.
“Do you know who the fuck I am?” he screamed. Then I watched his hand twitch, trying to unlock his phone so he could call for help. The hell he would.
The knife left my hand quickly, embedding it straight into his, making him drop his phone. He screamed out, and Cain moved on him, injecting him quickly with a tranquilizer so he couldn’t cause any more of a scene. If the neighbors didn’t hear the commotion yet, I would be surprised.
“Quick, help me tie him up,” Cain said to me, yanking the knife out of his hand. Blood seeped out and stained the stark white couch. I chuckled seeing it mar something so precious to him and hisaesthetic.Cain handed me the knife, and I sheathed it back on my leg with its sisters. I was thinking of naming them all. There were three in total. The only names that popped in my head were the characters fromFriends.Monica, Rachel, and Phoebe. That worked for me.
We made quick work of tying him up, remembering all the training we’d done together. The knots held and we carried him out together. Me holding his feet, and Cain grabbing under his armpits.
The tranquilizer would last a good half hour, so we had to move quickly. I didn’t fancy dealing with a thrashing, pissed off John the next time we had to haul his body.
Before we left, though, Cain set the oven to bake while cutting a gasline inside the kitchen. The authorities would be too busy dealing with the explosion to come looking for him and would hopefully, assume he’d perished inside.
We peeled away from the place laughing, while John’s tied up, unconscious body rolled around in the back. Personally, I hoped he got a little banged up back there.
Phase one of our plan was complete. I’d even drawn a little blood. It only made me hungry for more. When he woke up, I’d make him wish he’d never even been born.
CHAPTER 36
CAIN
Pastor John was tiedup at the pulpit, forced to look down over the empty church he loved so much. He came back into consciousness suddenly, thrashing against his restraints. Delilah was down in the pews playing with the knife in her hands while I circled him. I liked seeing him truly scared and broken down. His mouth was stuffed with a ball gag, even though he tried to scream around it. Sweat and tears mixed on his nearly red face.
He was angry? Good. So was I.
“I’m sure you’re wondering what brings us all here today, Pastor John,” I said from behind my mask.
He made some unintelligible sounds and his neck flexed so hard I could see the muscles form on both sides.
“Sorry, I can’t hear what you’re saying. You should probably shut the fuck up,” I said, whacking him upside the head with a hardcover bible. His head lolled and I chuckled to myself.
“Now. Where was I?”
