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Eighteen years old…
“You ready?”
I’ve waited for this day for years, and Matt asks me if I’m ready? Seriously? I was ready the first time Father Brine and Deacon Block touched me in my naughty places. Ever since my friends witnessed what the holy men were doing to me, I’ve waited and planned and plotted and… dreamed.
My heart is pounding as we stand pressed against the brick exterior of the church we were practically raised in. My parents have dedicated their lives to teaching my brother, Mark, and me to worship a God I’m fairly certain doesn’t exist, and for what? So we can grow up and be as falsely pious as men of the cloth?
No fucking thank you.
“More than ready, bro,” I snarl as I grip the handle of the gas can a little tighter.
My knuckles burn from the pressure, but I welcome the pain. It reminds me that I’m alive, and that those cretins didn’t break me. They came close. So damn close. But my angels came in the form of my best friends, and they saved me.
Hell, they’re still saving me. Just by being here, ready to burn my tormentors to the ground.
Literally.
I whirl around at the tap on my shoulder, and John rolls his eyes at my reaction. I knew he was standing there, but I’m as on edge as a person can be. It’s not every day my friends and I commit arson and murder.
“If you’re ready, we should get this party started.” John’s hands fly as he signs, his body rigid with tension.
“He’s right,” Matt agrees as he holds up a pack of matches. “Let the fun begin.”
Taking a deep breath, I begin to move out of the shadows of the building. Matt and John follow, each of us stepping around immaculately pruned bushes as if touching them will set our souls aflame.
When we reach the steps to the back entrance, I hesitate, pausing with one foot hovering just above the concrete.
John moves around me to the third step and narrows his eyes. “Why’d you stop?”
Matt pushes on my shoulder to urge me forward, but I’m frozen.
“Dude, we don’t have a lot of time,” John signs. “We go now, or we call it off. Your choice.”
“He’s right,” Matt agrees. “This is up to you.”
I nod slowly, annoyed that I seem glued to the pavement. What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve waited for this, for my revenge, for years. I want this.
I need this.
I shove John out of the way, choosing to ignore the fact that it took way more of my strength than I’d like to admit, and stalk up the steps. With my free hand, I yank open the door and stride inside.
“Mary confirmed that Brine and Block are in the office,” Matt says from behind me.
I look over my shoulder and see him texting his twin back. She’s monitoring the church’s security cameras from a parking lot across town, and I’ve never been more grateful for her impressive hacking skills.
Nodding, I ask, “Remember the plan?”
John rolls his eyes and lifts his hands. “You go in first, talk a little smack, we come in a few minutes later and drag their sorry asses to one of the confessionals, and then we light this bitch up.”
I grin at his obvious excitement. “That about sums it up.”
“We’ll be right outside the office if you need us,” Matt adds. “Don’t hesitate to let us kno—”
“I’ll be fine,” I snap. “They have no power over me anymore.”
I walk ahead of them, through the halls toward the other side of the church where the office is located. Once I’m outside the door, I stand as still as possible, as if that’ll make it easier to hear what’s going on inside.
“The picnic went well,” Father Brine says. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
