Pestilence (The Four Horsemen #1)(98)

Mercy.

“Did you ever think that maybe your God’s mercy was never meant for me?” I ask. “That maybe it was meant for everyone else?”

No, he hadn’t, if his expression is anything to go by.

I turn, beginning to walk away, only to feel the warm press of Pestilence’s fingers in the crook of my arm.

“If I have to tie you to me, I will,” Pestilence says. “But I will not let you go.”

I swivel to face him. For all his lofty demands, his face is betraying his true feelings. I can see stark panic in his expression.

He hadn’t anticipated this.

“Pestilence,” I say, my voice calming, “you can force me stay with you, but you can’t make me want to be with you.”

“But you do want to be with me,” he insists. “You called me love.”

I look away. “I did.”

“And you love me.”

My heart beats faster. I may not have said the three words, but the horseman speaks the truth.

My eyes move to him. “I do,” I agree. “And it is not enough.”

He staggers back a step. “Not enough?”

I think I might be hurting him worse than any weapon ever did.

“It’s not enough to overcome whatever else lies in your heart,” I say. “You clearly hate humankind more than you care for me.”

Pestilence’s nostrils flare, but he bites back a response.

He doesn’t deny it. Ouch.

“Love is supposed to bring out the best parts of you,” I continue, reminding him of our talk shortly after Ruth and Rob passed. “Not the worst,” I add quietly.

“I did this because I love you,” he says fervently. There’s more fear in his eyes than before.

“Love doesn’t work like that.”

But of course, there are other things that go hand-in-hand with love—great, terrible things. Things that for the first time ever, Pestilence is beginning to feel.

You let him into the Garden of Eden, you let him taste forbidden fruit. You gave him the knowledge of good and evil and now you are both paying for it.

I take a step back, committing his face to memory.

Need to leave now, before I cave and return to him. I’d never forgive myself then.

My heart, however, feels like it’s being ripped in two at the prospect of leaving.

“Goodbye, Pestilence.”

Rotating around, I force myself to start down the steps leading away from the mansion.

I haven’t taken more than five paces before the horseman is on me. He scoops me up and carries me inside, kicking the front door closed as he goes.

“What are you doing?” I protest, squirming in his arms.

No response.

Now I truly begin to struggle. “Let me go.”

He puts me down in the foyer. The room spins a little once I’m on my feet.

So weak. Too weak.

Can’t stay here though.

I head back to the door, and again he picks me up and bodily moves me away.

Again, as soon as he sets me down I move towards the door.

He cuts me off. “Sara, I cannot let you leave.”

He’s begging me with his eyes, and I know he sees what I feel: I’m not strong enough, healed enough. All those weeks of traveling, all those wounds, even with the rest, my body isn’t ready for more. And still I drive it forward.

“Pestilence, don’t make this worse than it already is,” I practically plead. “I’m leaving, either with your blessing or against your will, but I won’t stay here any longer.”

The look on his face pulverizes the last of me. I can see his heart breaking in front of me. That raw grief lingers for just a moment, and then his features harden.

Without a word, he picks me up again.

“What are you doing?” I struggle in his arms. “Pestilence, put me down!”

Ignoring my demands, he moves me into the master bedroom and deposits me onto the bed.

By the time I scramble off of it—taking an extra few seconds to let the vertigo pass—he’s already made it to the door. With a parting look, he slips out, closing it behind him.

Rushing after him, I grab the doorknob. I twist it, but the door won’t open. The horseman must be holding it closed.

“Pestilence, let me go.” My voice rises with panic.

He doesn’t seriously mean to keep me here, does he?

“You will forgive me,” he says quietly from the other side of the door.

“Let me go!” I shout louder.

But he doesn’t.

Pestilence boards up the master bedroom windows and blockades all the doors leading out. Not before I rush outside a few times and he has to drag me back in, but eventually, he manages to bar all the exits, leaving me trapped inside.

And so I’m back to being his prisoner.

At least the horseman is smart enough to keep his distance. I only see him a few times throughout the rest of the day, when he drops off food and water, his eyes sad and haunted.

I think maybe whatever madness came over Pestilence will wear off. That he’ll eventually unbar the windows and open the door and beg for my forgiveness.

But it never happens. One day melts into the next, and he stays away, coming to me only so that he can feed me. Not even at night does he slip into my room to express his tortured feelings for me, or to fall asleep pressed against my back.