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Deacon Block leers at Mark and me before leaving the room and slamming the door behind him.
“Thank you, Father Brine,” I say, grateful that whatever was happening is now over. “He was starting to scare—”
“Listen here, you little shit,” the priest barks, and I shrink away from him. “I don’t deal in little boys under five, so Mark can go. But you? You’re mine. And if either of you breathe a word of what happened in here, or what’s about to happen, I’ll set your house on fire while you all sleep. Got it?”
Mark starts to cry in earnest, and I numbly nod. “O-okay.”
Father Brine grins so wide one would never know he just threatened murder and whatever else is ‘about to happen’. “Good boy,” he praises. He bends to pick up the smallest pair of swim trunks and hands them to my brother. “Mark, go ahead to the bathroom down the hall and change so you can go back out and play with the other kids.”
Mark looks at me. “Paul?”
“It’s okay, Mark,” I assure him, even though it’s far from okay. I’m terrified, but I won’t let him see that. He’s four and should be worried about Legos, not me. “I’ll be out soon.”
Mark hesitates, but leaves, and when the door closes again, the snick of the lock engaging sends a shiver down my spine.
“Now, let’s have some fun.”
I freeze with my fists hovering inches away from the punching bag. My chest heaves from exertion, and breathing fills me with agony. It’s as if my lungs are being sliced into ribbons with a dull knife, and I don’t know how to stop it.
Footsteps sound from behind me, and I spin around, ready to fight. Grim doesn’t stop walking, despite my stance, but he does hold his hands up to indicate he’s not a threat.
“What do you want?”
He shrugs.
“Dammit, Grim, I’m not in the mood.”
Blood drips from my knuckles as I sign, and I make a mental note to have a prospect clean the gym later.
“And I’m not in the mood to watch you break your hands.” He takes a step closer. “Was seeing Mark really that bad?”
“Does it matter?”
“Clearly.” He nods toward my hands. “I have an idea.”
I narrow my eyes suspiciously. Grim’s ideas always tend to lead to death and destruction.
Which is exactly what you need right now.
Warming up to the thought, I smirk. “What?”
Grim takes the last few steps toward me, leaving only a foot between us. “I wanna call church and take a vote.”
“On what? Do you have a lead on a sinner?”
Please say ‘yes’. I could use a sinner to take out others' sins on.
“I do,” he confirms and holds his hands still for a long moment before continuing. “Mark.”
“What?”
“Obviously Mark has sinned so bad that you can’t forgive him,” he explains. “So, it’s time to eliminate him.”
Red. I see fucking red. I might hate my brother, but that doesn’t mean I want him dead.
I lunge toward Grim and wrap my hands around his thick throat. He’s not a small man, by any means, and he easily slips his meaty fingers around my neck, lifting me off my feet and slamming me onto my back on the floor.
Grim places his booted foot in the center of my chest to make sure I stay down. We glare at each other, and he’s the first to break the tension.
