Fear the Wicked (Illusions Series Book 2)(87)
“Now that I have you here, Jacob, why don’t you tell me what you’ve done with my wife? Do you think I’m so stupid that I don’t see the coincidence that you reappear in town and she’s suddenly missing? You took me for a stupid son of a bitch when we were children and even as teens. Let me follow you around like a little lost fucking puppy while you enjoyed breaking women and teaching me how to do it. But I’m not that fucking puppy anymore and I don’t believe a fucking word that comes out of your mouth, so I’m giving you one chance to fess up and tell me where I can find Eve.”
I coughed up blood before trying to speak again. Barely able to move, I stared at the face of my brother, my thoughts racing with what I could say to stop him from doing whatever it was he planned to do. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied.
His expression twisted with feigned remorse. “That’s too bad, Jacob. And here I thought you would have become a smarter man after leaving the Church. But just like the rest of the fucks who called themselves holy, the only thing you know how to do is lie.”
Jericho looked up and within seconds I felt the other man grab me by the arms to drag me backwards and over the surface of the cross. I attempted to fight back, tried to roll both directions in hopes that I would evade them. But, the pain locked me in place, and each time I attempted to move, the man’s fist came down to slam against my face. For a minute, the room went black before coming into soft focus, my consciousness fading.
My brother slapped at my face. “Careful, brother, I wouldn’t want you falling asleep during this process. It wouldn’t be as much fun.”
The two men held me over the cross, the one positioning my feet together over the rough surface of the wood while Jericho removed my shoes and socks. Once bare to the skin, Jericho placed a large nail above the skin, holding a hammer with his other hand, ready to pound the metal into my feet.
“Last chance, Jacob. Tell me where my wife is.”
I didn’t want to give away the fact that the police now had Eve. To do so would be to warn him that his game was done, the violence and evil he’d spread across this rural town coming to an end. There was nothing I could do to stop him, nothing I could say that would appease him. All I could do was buy time.
“Fine,” I answered, “I’ll tell you.”
His hand clenched tighter over the handle of the hammer, his eyes locking to mine with the promise of pain if I didn’t tell him where he could find the woman he’d abused for so long.
“She’s at the parish. I took her back there after you came here. She’s in the bedroom…waiting.”
His lips quirked into a grin. “That was, by far, the worst lie you’ve ever told.”
The hammer came down on the head of the nail, the metal piercing my skin as it was driven through the bone. The scream that tore from my lips was inhuman, pure pain pouring out of me because my body was helpless to contain it. After the first smack of the hammer against the nail head, Jericho held the hammer again over his shoulder, ready and willing to drive the nail further after whatever it was he had to say next.
“Did you want to tell me the truth now, or are you going to continue lying like all the other assholes who call themselves Christian?”
My heart broke for Jericho in that moment. Despite what he was doing to me, despite the blinding pain, I still found it within myself to feel compassion for my brother. Perhaps this had all been my fault for not standing up for him against my father. Perhaps I deserved this for not noticing the pain and torture he’d endured while those sick men used his small body for their own twisted desires.
Perhaps this was my absolution for never giving enough of a damn to look for him after I left college. If I hadn’t been so concerned with my own sins, could I have prevented Jericho from slipping into madness?
Spitting out more blood, I stared my brother in the eye. If I was going to die today, I wanted to cleanse the wounds of my soul, wanted to confess to him how I had failed him.
It’s true I’d never been a good man – a good brother. I’d surrendered to the darkness more times that I could count, and for that I knew I’d pay eternally. But to carry these secrets to my grave would be a mistake I wasn’t willing to make. I’d failed Jericho in our youth. I’d failed him after we’d grown into adulthood. But I wouldn’t fail him in this final moment.
“I’m sorry, Jericho. I truly am. I never should have abandoned you.”
The hammer swung down, the nail being driven farther into my foot. I screamed again, the room spinning around me as the pain consumed my entire body. Like the savior who had died for us so many centuries ago, I endured that pain while allowing love to fill my heart for the man who was inflicting it.
Barely able to talk around the agony inside me, I forced the words out regardless. “I never should have stood by while he hurt you. I should have made our mother do something – anything – to stop his abuse. I failed, Jericho, and I’m sorry. I love you.”
The hammer came down again, the nail now being driven through the bottoms of my feet into the wood. The pain was blinding, the room going in and out of focus, my stomach heaving as my body attempted to expel the force of the torment.
How ironic it was that in this moment I learned my faith was still a part of me.
Closing my eyes, I opened them again, my throat torn apart by the volume of my screaming. I was losing the ability to think, much less speak, so I repeated the only four words that had any meaning.