Fear the Wicked (Illusions Series Book 2)(59)
An army for the Almighty. Please. I couldn’t care less about the silly beliefs that were a balm for the masses, the ridiculous lie that had been told since the Dark Ages that God gave a damn about the unfortunate souls infecting this planet. Meanwhile, the people in power sat on God’s throne casting their judgment and filling their bellies as the population starved.
“You’re not a priest?” he finally asked, his voice rough from yelling, his eyes narrowed on my clerical collar.
“No, but I play one on television.”
His brows drew together tighter, forming one fuzzy patch of hair over his beady, unfocused eyes.
Amusing myself in order to kill time, I smiled back at the man, unconcerned that anything I said to him while we sat alone in this room would leak or be believed, even if he screamed it at the top of his lungs while we dragged him out.
“I’m not a priest,” I admitted while holding my hand up to examine my fingernails. “My twin brother was. He’s the one who kicked your ass on the side of the road that night after he caught you trying to rape my wife.”
My eyes dragged up to him. “How easy was she anyway? Did she put up a fight?”
More confusion floated behind his gaze. “Your wife?”
I nodded my head, the corner of my lips pulling up into a lazy grin. “I’ve heard about what happened on that road late at night, but only from a woman who’s too confused to know her own name at times, so why don’t you fill in the blanks for me? What happened first when you pulled up and found her walking alone?”
His fingers wrapped over two bars, his lips parted on his breath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do. Eve is a pretty little thing with her innocent eyes and mousy demeanor. You must have recognized her inability to fight the minute you met her.”
Smile widening into a snide grin, I watched him shuffle his weight from what foot to the other.
“There’s no need to worry about being truthful. I understand men like you, the ones who like to walk on the outskirts of what’s considered normal and proper in modern society. Like you, I’ve enjoyed a few trysts without asking permission, so I’ll play the good Christian and withhold judgment. Lord knows, if a stone were thrown in my glass house, the entire thing would come crashing down to reveal that I, too, am a monster.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not,” I answered, my eyes pinning him with the sincerity of my words. This man was nothing but a poor rapist, a sick bastard that couldn’t keep his dick in his pants but had nobody willing to bounce over it. He preyed on the weak when he had the opportunity to drag them behind abandoned buildings and dirty dumpsters. I’m sure he sweated and grunted as he took his fill, probably giving them the gift of disease that would last a lifetime, or at least until some antibiotic found the means to fight it.
“If I tell you a secret, do you think you can keep it between us?”
Nodding, he reached up to brush the greasy hair out of his face that had slipped from the hair tie he used to keep it all back. I assumed at one point it had been tucked neatly away but had come loose in his struggle with the sheriff. “I won’t tell.”
A bark of soft laughter burst out. “Sure you won’t. I don’t believe you, but I’ll tell you anyway. I have some time to kill while I pretend to be praying over you while clutching my rosary in hopes I can save your soul.”
His knuckles whitened as he squeezed the bars more. “Is that what this is? You trying to convert me?”
“Convert you to what? A lie?” I laughed. “That would be a giant waste of my time. In truth, I’m no better than you. I’ve enjoyed sneaking behind a woman and taking what should be mine. Men are the stronger gender for a reason, are we not?”
He shuffled his weight again, releasing one of the bars to scratch at an itch on his arm. Watching him closely, I recognized the signs of a man coming down from his high, the itchy need for another hit sneaking up on him that would eventually drive him insane.
“We are,” he agreed hesitantly, still not sure he could trust that another kind of predator was staring back at him.
“Who do these women think we are? Pussies that have to ask permission for a fuck? Please. We’ve been taking it since the beginning of time. Knocking them over the head and dragging them over just so we can get what we want and leave them there to deal with it. Now all these spoiled bitches think they deserve romance, flowers and wine, some type of jewelry that isn’t worth the money we spend on it. It’s a bunch of bullshit, if you ask me. I tend to think society should return to our roots, ditch the bullshit that makes us civilized and go back to a time where the strongest man survived.”
Pushing away from the cage bars, he stepped back and took me in all over again, searching desperately for any sign that I was evil as I told him I was. It was refreshing not having to lie for once, to lay it all out and reveal that I’m not the man everybody thinks I am. I would thank him for being the captive audience to my confession, but I hardly doubted what would soon happen to him was something he’d appreciate or consider as thanks.
“Are you for real? How do I know you’re not lying to me right now?”
“You don’t, but if you’d rather we sit here and stare at one another, we could do that as well. I just happen to find it boring. Might as well compare notes. I like a good pussy just as much as the next man, especially if the woman is screaming and crying while it happens.”