Page 92 of Kandie Shoppe

The whole room is set up for sexual torture. How does Pastor Nathan know about it? Is he one of those copycat serial killers or something? He didn’t think to tie me up. His first mistake. I don’t need anything to fight him. I can use myself. He was lucky I was sick, and he snuck up on me. I almost had him. Pain is pain and everybody can bleed. He’s going to regret ever putting his fucking hands on me.

Standing up, I sway. My throat is tight and my mouth tastes like I chewed dust. There is a pressure low in my abdomen.

There is a toilet in the rear corner. Hurrying over, I hover and use it, thankful there is even a small roll of tissue.

Bending down, I reach for it and freeze. There is a small camera trained right on the area where I used the toilet.

“Sick fuck.” Reaching into the crevice it’s sitting in, I try to pry it out.

I’m so busy trying to dig at the thing I don’t hear the door open.

“Aht, aht, aht. That just sent ten grand into the coffers, Kandie.” My head whips around to see Nathaniel’s smug, triumphant expression trained on me. How I ever thought he was handsome is lost on me. All the kindness is stripped away, leaving only a dark evil that permeates his entire being.

Evil. Such a short word, but it’s in his very essence.

“What are you doing, Nathan?” Turning toward him, I don’t bother covering my body. What’s the point? He’s seen everything, anyway. I know he wants me to cower. I’ll be damned if I give him the satisfaction. I’m going to fight him every step of the way. I learned a long time ago you have to let them think they’ve won.

“Taking back what rightfully belongs to me — what you and your bitch sister took from me.” I watch the evil smile spread across his face as everything clicks into place. I take in the dank walls and the cell with new eyes. Impossible.

“Yeah, nah. It wasn’t completely destroyed. The basement level was fortified. Other than the part that caved in on the sheriff, your whore sister, and those deputies, the rest were largely left intact. The whole thing was a tornado shelter. It would take winds up to five hundred miles an hour as mandated by the government and over ten tons of pressure.”

“I don’t understand?—”

“Of course you don’t. I know you can’t read.” He frowns when his cruel jest doesn’t have the impact he hopes. I heard all the dyslexia jokes my entire life. I can read and comprehend. It just takes more concentration and focus.

“Nice, pastor.” Giving him a saccharine smile, I keep the smile planted even as he charges me. Standing my ground, Iwatch his hand descend, lashing my cheek, sending me to the floor.

Quelling my instinct to lounge at him, I remind myself that I haven’t eaten or had anything to drink in days.

“Get up, slut.” Heaving with his feet planted, his fists curl into tight knots. “I want you to see something.”

With slow deliberation, I pull myself to my feet. As soon as I’m standing before him, he grips me under my armpits in a punishing hold, dragging me to the bars. “They’re electrified. I’d hope you touch them and get a little shock.” He chuckles, pushing me through the doors.

We approach the examination like table. “Not yet. You’re not worthy.” He shoves me into a steel enforced door. Holding me with heavy pressure by the back of my neck, he deliberately pushes the bruised side into the door. “Stay.”

A cold metallic smell fills my nostrils. Inhaling, I give a small prayer that I’m alive and mostly unmolested.

There’s a tumbling of a lock and a hiss and the door clicks open. All this lets me know is there is no way I’m getting out of here unless I do some major damage to him.

The passage we enter is cool, dank, and the floor is cold concrete. It looks to have been swept with gravel pushed into the corner.

We go down a couple of doors and I hear the whistle of wind outside.

“There’s a storm coming, but that didn’t stop good ol’ Ulysses from manning the search for you.” We walk into a room and he has a whole CCTV set up in the church fellowship hall. There are three long rows of banquette tables set up with a lot of my family, including a heavily pregnant Ezekiel-Jane, Mama and Pa-Pete, Krie, Thad, Maxim, and Ember-Jane answering calls. “It’s a shame it’s all for nothing. I’m going to make sure theynever find your body. I promised Ulysses already I’d send him body parts, though.”

Rage strengthens my voice. “All this because I won’t date you?” I bite off the ‘pathetic’ I was on the cusp of saying, knowing he has no problem hitting women and is probably counting on me to provoke him so he can have a reason.

“I was never interested in you. Well, maybe a little. But you wanted to be a stuck-up uppity bitch until the sheriff crooked his finger at you. The way you spread for him.” I keep my gaze forward, watching my family, but I don’t miss the shaking of his head from the periphery of my vision.

“Dad was saving you for me. I was supposed to pop your cherry and your stupid ass sister’s too. Dad thought twins were a good reward. He was taking his time with you two brats. And what thanks did he get? Your sister killed him.” He rounds on me, his eyes bulging out of his face, the green of his eyes scarcely bright against his pale skin.

His hand closes around my throat, squeezing as he seethes. “You’re so lucky the bids are coming in fast and furiously for you or you’d already be dead, bitch.” Leaning in, he licks the trickle of a tear his cutting off my air causes.

He releases me, making me gasp for air in deep pulls. “The bishop —”

“Was my father? Yes.” He switches the camera, and it shines on more darkened rooms. Inside them are small figures. Kids. “Thanks to you, I’ve had to curtail my other enterprises. This was my last shipment from Rudy formerly of the El Diablos, presently mulch, if I heard correctly thanks to Angel. You’ve caused so many problems, Kandie. Now I finally get my revenge, breaking the sheriff in the process.” He sounds so fucking smug.

“Hey, look. Your 88mm is bringing in seven figures. I teased them up with a few videos of Ulysses fucking you.”

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