Page 3 of The Monster and the Masochist

There was a waitlist to get into Silent Hollow’s public sector, and with my track record of starting fights, the other schools in our district hadn’t been willing to take me.

Besides, I couldn’t leave Ryan. He was constantly getting bullied. He needed me to look out for him.

“Speaking of your father… I’ve been very generous, recommending his services to my church’s patrons. What a shame it would be if I were to let everyone know that he is encouraging homosexual behavior in his household. I wonder what would happen to Fairview funerals if I withdrew my support?”

Anxiety shot through me at his threat. I didn’t know the details of how my father ran his business, but I knew a great deal of his clients were members of Father Samwell’s church.

He was a prominent religious figure in Silent Hollow, and my dad relied on their recommendations for much of his business.

My dad put his heart and soul into Fairview. I couldn’t be the reason he lost business. I already gave him enough trouble as it was with my constant fighting.

In my defense, I didn’t start fights. I just finished them.

It was always self-defense, or in Ryan’s defense, like today.

None of that mattered, though.

The fact was, Father Samwell had the power to destroy my family, and it honestly scared the shit out of me.

He was this dirty, dragon-like creature, crouching over my life, threatening to tear apart everything I knew and loved. I was helpless against him.

Small.

Weak.

Defenseless.

It was the only reason I allowed him to do what he did to me.

It was the reason I never told anybody, either.

Father Samwell straightened up, pulling out a blue plaid skirt and a scuffed pair of black high-heeled shoes.

Slowly, he approached me, handing me the items with a predatory glint in his eyes.

“Put them on,” he said, his voice now low and soft.

I stared at the skirt and the shoes for a breath, doing my best to force myself to stop trembling.

“Now, Theodora.”

Meeting his eyes, I let him see how much I hated him before finally taking my hands out of my pockets.

I took the skirt and went to work putting it on.

He watched me as I stepped out of the pants. I did my best to ignore the burning shame of his gaze as he took in my exposed legs.

As quickly as I could, I pulled the skirt on before taking the heels next.

“Good. That’s good, Theodora,” he hummed, his voice turning husky as I slipped my feet into the pumps.

“There.” He smiled at me when I was finished. Leaning back on his desk, he looked me up and down, biting his lip as he took me in.

This was how it always went.

I would change, and he would stare for a while as I stood there in silence, hating the way my cheeks burned.

“Turn around,” he ordered.