Page 76 of Atone

I wonder what it’s like to be treatable.

For the sickness to be chemical. For the shadows to be calmed by a pill when mine always demanded blood. No matter how many combinations my doctors tried, nothing worked. What’s wrong with me is molecular.

There’s no quieting it, and there’s no getting it out.

“Clean your hands. You’re a fucking mess.” Dad circles the chair in his office and tosses a handkerchief at me.

I don’t bother picking it up as I drop into the chair facing him. The rag is barely big enough to clean the blood from one hand, much less the brain matter chunks on my shirt.

Dad makes a steeple of his fingers, watching me. To anyone else, the downturn in his lips might be read as disappointment, but I knowthat expression. He’s weighing his options. Deciding whether I’m too much trouble or still of use.

If he decides to call Captain Evans and report me, it’s only a matter of time before the cops show up. Or worse, he could turn me over to Sigma House. I did beat one of their members to a bloody pulp, and even if the asshole fucking deserved it, that doesn’t really matter when it comes to Sigma Sin.

The question now is what will my father do about this?

He knows it’s not the first time I’ve snapped, and he knows it won’t be the last. I’m a liability. So even if I’m also a convenient resource when he deems it necessary, there’s always a risk he’ll decide he’s had enough.

The corner of his mouth curls, and amusement plays on his face. He’s going to show me mercy—again. I’m starting to wish he wouldn’t.

“We talked about this, Alex.”

“We did,” I deadpan. “And yet, your wife still let that happen.”

“Your motherwas helping the new minister get acquainted with the town. She didn’t know Ian’s intentions with your sister.”

“Bullshit. That asshole has been watching Patience since the first time she stepped through the church doors months ago.”

I saw it.

Dad saw it.

And Mom, blinded by her false faith and always worshipping the congregation like they’re gods, used it to her advantage.

“She feels terrible things happened the way they did.” Dad forgives her like he always does because my mother is his singular weakness. “Besides, there’s no point arguing it now that the problem is dead.”

His glare is an imaginary blade pressed tight against my artery, daring me to talk back or defy him. But as terrible as my father can be, he’s always looked out for me. He’s the only reason I haven’t been locked up already.

So I keep quiet.

He still believes he can tame “this behavior,” as he likes to call it. It’s the only option. Unpredictability doesn’t bode well for Sigma Sin, and that’s the only future he’ll allow me to have. If I can’t get my head together to join their ranks, what will I be worth to him?

Nothing.

I’d care if I could control the sickness from spreading. But what he holds at bay is only getting worse. And after Ian put his hands on my sister, nothing could stop it from breaking out.

“I know you think you can’t control what’s inside you, Alex. But trust me, you can.” Dad levels me with his gaze. “We can direct it. We can make this work for us.”

What he means is we can make it work for the House because that’s all that really matters to him.

“You could be our greatest tool yet.” He leans back, the gleam in his eyes telling me he’s praising himself.

“What about the minister?”

“It’s already being taken care of. I hear he had to leave town.” Dad brushes it off like nothing.

The House preaches brotherhood above all, but only some members actually have to follow it. Never those who pull the strings. Never those with the real power.

“There’s only one remaining loose string. It will be easy enough to tie off with your help,” Dad says. “We’re going to redirect your attention.”

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