Emma lying in her coffin, forever fifteen.
My mother’s cold indifference.
Dad’s disease.
Rachel’s absence.
It wasn’t fucking fair. None of it. And this man of faith was going to beat me to death, and that wasn’t fair either. The strong won, and the weak put up with it.
My hand wrapped around something lying under the table, and I came up off the floor with all the speed and power I had left in my body.
He was rounding the end of the table when I popped up like a jack-in-the-box and lashed him across the face with the top half of a pool cue.
It caught him on the bridge of the nose with a sound like a cabinet door snapping shut. Father Mathew staggered back a couple steps and blinked. He brought his hands up to his face, and they promptly filled with blood. Gore ran in rivulets down either side of his nose and formed a red goatee on his chin. He stared dumbly at the blood; then his knees unlocked, and he sat down hard.
Our inhales and exhales were the loudest sound in the world. The only sound. We’d reversed positions, and now I stood over him, the cue wavering slightly in my grip.
He sat there bleeding, looking up at me, and after what seemed like hours said, “What are you doing, Andy?”
“Where are they?” I asked, taking a half step toward him.
He shrank back. “Who?”
“Rachel and the boys. You did something with them. This was the last place anyone saw Rachel. Where are they?”
“Andy, you need to calm down. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I heard someone down here and came to look. You surprised me. I didn’t know it was you.”
“Don’t bullshit me. You know exactly why I’m here.”
“I don’t, I really don’t.”
“I saw Mary’s spreadsheets. She had one at her house and made another one over in Brighton. She was onto you and David.”
He blanched at that, the half of his face visible in the low light growing whiter amid the blood. “No, see, you’ve got it wrong. I—”
I hit him again. A hard rap on the top of the head with the thicker end of the cue.
He cried out and covered his head with his hands. “Stop! Don’t hit me anymore. Please.”
“Rachel found out, didn’t she? That’s why you took them. After Mary and Ryan were out of the picture, David must’ve told her about your little secret.” I pushed the cue into his shoulder hard, and Father Mathew’s eyes widened as he stared up at me. “She knew, didn’t she? Didn’t she?” I yelled the last words, and spittle flew from my mouth. I must’ve looked all of the psycho I felt, because something changed in him then. His bloodied face clenched, and he began to cry, tears mixing with blood.
“It was only the once,” he whispered, chest beginning to heave. He slid himself back a few inches and leaned against the wall, breath hitching. I was about to contradict him. Tell him no, it was most certainly not just once, he’d been skimming money for months and months, when he continued. “I couldn’t help it. I tried. You have to believe me. I tried to resist, but I couldn’t help it. I’m not well. It was just the one time with Joey, never before, never since.”
Adrift.
No longer a void—a supernova, my thoughts exploding outward and tumbling chaotic over one another. Slowly they coalesced, landing on what he meant, absorbing it.
Oh God.
I thought of little Joey, so much like his mother, anxious and quiet. How Rachel had said he’d become more detached and resistant to going to school over the last year. Now I knew why.
“You . . . you were . . .” I couldn’t get myself to say the words, nausea forcing my throat shut.
“It was just the once!” He was pleading now. “David saw us and . . . and he was the one who set up the agreement. I gave him the money.”
Scales falling from eyes. Everything laid bare. All circles closing.
David had caught Father Mathew molesting his son, and instead of outing him and pressing charges, he’d seen an opportunity. An opportunity to save his business from a bad investment by an unruly business partner.
“Mary found out about the money, and David killed her,” I said quietly. His jaw quivered, and he looked around the room as if searching for salvation. I saw a flicker of something else in his eyes. “No. You killed her,” I said, and his gaze snapped back to me. “It wasn’t David, it was you.”
He squirmed, shoving himself closer to the wall, and at that moment if he’d tried standing, I would’ve beaten him to death. This man. This monster.