Page 26 of Penance

I wanna pull it. Hard. Until she’s crying.

She steps past the tree I’m hiding behind, so close I could reach out and touch her if I wanted to. I could grab her around the throat, pull her into the shadows, choke her until she passes out, and fuck her right here.

I could, but I won’t.

She’s my prey, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

But the hunt is a waiting game, and I am nothing if not a patient man.

Mercy looks both ways before she crosses the street, hurrying across the blacktop, and then turning into the church parking lot, her steps slowing as she approaches her parents’ black Toyota. Their sedan is polished to a gleam, reflecting the clearblue sky and the towering steeple of the church. Her father steps out first, his graying hair neatly combed and harshly parted, his suit pressed with military precision. Her mother follows, her floral dress and sweet smile painted perfectly.

They are a masterpiece of small town piousness.

“Mercy, dear,” her mother scolds her, reaching out and pulling her into a deep hug. Mercy looks pained—uncomfortable. “We’ve been waiting for you. What kept you?”

Mercy’s smile is soft, genuine, but I see the way her shoulders roll and her jaw tightens just a little bit.

Did she take her medication this morning?

It would be a shame if she puked right here in the church parking lot.

It would be a shame if everyone saw the sin I planted deep in her womb.

I barely bite back a laugh.

“I’m sorry, Mother. I lost track of time.”

Mother.

Not mom.

Just as it always has been.

“No excuse,” her father gripes, fixing her with an angry stare.

She swallows hard.

I want to break his neck.

The only one who’s allowed to make her look like that is me.

The only one who is allowed to make her hate herself is me.

I watch Mercy nod and mumble something I can’t hear. An apology, probably.

She’s a pro at this, wearing the mask of a devoted daughter. But I see the cracks in her reflection. I can see the mask slipping, even if no one else can. I know her better than they do. I know how she feels from the inside.

I know what she wants in her heart.

She’s caged, but begging for freedom.

I will give it to her. I’ll give her the freedom she craves, but in my own way.

“You look tired, dear,” her mom says. “Have you been getting enough rest?”

Mercy’s laugh is light, but it’s hiding something at the same time.

“Oh, you know how it is, Mother. It’s always a struggle.”

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