Page 14 of Wild Devil

“What do you mean?”

“I’m willing to do for you what I couldn’t do for your brother, or even your mother. I’m going to save your soul.”

The unsettling feeling in my stomach grows stronger as he pulls back. His words conceal a hidden threat, but I can’t discern what it is. The word “salvation” means something very different to him today than it does in the Bible.

Don’t get distracted, Frey, a part of me warns. You’re here for a reason. Take advantage of this moment.

“I know about the construction company,” I say, desperate to regain some semblance of even footing. “The one Colton’s family owns. I know that you need it to help carry out whatever nefarious plans you have in mind for Salvation. Is that why you want me to marry him so badly that you’ll do it in the dead of night like some kind of human trafficker?”

His eyes narrow, and a flush creeps over his cheeks. Without really even trying to get under his skin, I’ve done that and more. Somewhere within that rant was a barb that hit the sweet spot.

“I knew it was a mistake to let your brother remain in our lives after he chose to corrupt his body with poison,” Father says. His voice rises in pitch, rippling with barely-concealed anger. “I spared you the reality of that, and let you turn your helpless anger to me. A good father knows when to yield to the needs of his flock. I gave you that small bit of grace.” He reaches out, brushing the tip of a long finger against my cheek. “But no more.”

I don’t even see the slap coming. Just the stars that spot my vision next. The world bucks beneath me, and the next thing I know, I’m crouched on the floor, cradling my throbbing cheek against my palm. Tears spring from my eyes, but I grit my teeth rather than let them fall. I can’t allow the display of violence to deter me. If Daze were here, I know what he’d say—You’re on track. You’ve got him cornered.

“Hale was never the sick one, was he?” I croak. My mouth fills with a bitter taste, and I shudder once I realize what it is—blood. I have to choke down a swallow just to keep talking. At the same time, I lurch to my feet, forced to sway unsteadily. “He wasn’t the one who betrayed our family in the blind pursuit of greed, was he? It was always you, willing to harm anyone who got in your way. Hale wasn’t the only one, either. I’m sure my mother saw through you on day?—”

Another blow strikes the unguarded side of my face, and I hit the floor on my hands and knees. My eyes are streaming, my jaw on fire. I suck in air through my nose as more blood dribbles down my chin. Breathe, Frey. Focus!

“Your mother was my very first mistake,” Father says, his voice sounding disjointed as if coming from several directions at once. “My first bite of the poisoned apple. I thought I could change her heathen ways and mold her into the woman she was destined to be. I see now that I was wrong. She was already beyond saving?—”

Wham! A sharp pressure rams into my side, knocking the air from my lungs. Gasping, I wheeze, curled in a ball as my father’s booted foot comes to rest inches from my head.

“As dark as your path may seem, there is still hope for you, Frances. I know that. I can feel it, and I refuse to fail you again.”

“If murder is your idea of saving, then I think I’ll be better off in hell,” I spit.

He steps closer, and my body instinctively tenses up for another blow, but one doesn’t come. Instead, he tilts his head to observe me as if for the first time. I don’t like the look in his eye. It’s too sharp, lingering over my trembling legs in a way that raises goosebumps all over my skin. It’s the same way Silas looked at me, but different. Darker. Twisted.

“You think your mother was some paragon of virtue?” he hisses. “The bitch who schemed and lied to put you in her rightful place? Oh, I’m sure she never told you that, did she.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I didn’t find out until she was already long gone, the sick little game she played. Changing her will at the last damn minute. Only one obstacle remains in my way now… Innocent Frances, whom her very spirit has corrupted to follow in her footsteps. My daughter is gone, isn’t she? It’s you in her place, isn’t it, laughing at me from beyond the grave.” He seizes a fistful of my hair and wrenches me to my feet.

“It’s you,” he breathes out, his wide eyes on my face. His jaw is slack, his skin pale. It’s like he’s seeing a ghost in my place. “It was always you, possessing her. Turning her away from me just as you did my only son. Hale was your first victim, wasn’t he? It was you that corrupted his mind, goading him to stick his nose where it didn’t belong. You think you can win, demon? I won’t let your evil taint the world any longer.”

“Who?” I rasp. “Who do you think I am? Look at me!”

It’s like he doesn’t even hear me, but when a single name leaves his lips, I have my answer. “Abagail,” he says hoarsely. “It’s you, isn’t it? Laughing from your damned grave. I won’t let you have her. I’ll drive you out myself if I have to. I already defeated you once—I’ll do it again.”

My mind is left reeling. Abagail? Has he finally lost his hold on reality?

His hands go for my neck, grasping, squeezing. I can’t resist my instinct to fight back, kicking, scraping at his fingers, clawing at his forearms. It’s no use, and a cold sense of finality washes over me as, bit by bit, the strength starts to leave my limbs. This is how I die.

At the hands of my own father…

“Sir?” The other voice comes from down the hall, drawing my father’s attention. Suddenly, he releases me, and I gulp for breath.

“What is it?” Father demands, turning to the figure approaching him.

“We should leave now. If you want to make it in time, sir.”

Make it? To where?

“Yes, of course.” Clearing his throat, my father adjusts his askew collar, his composed self once more. Whatever this is about must be important. Important enough for him to casually swipe my blood off his knuckles and turn to leave.

“Tonight, Abagail,” he calls back to me. “Once your plans are circumvented, I’ll send you back to hell.”

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