Page 23 of Drag You Down
Maybe I don’t want to.
Maybe I can’t help but wonder what his lips taste like.
“Are you sure about that, little lamb?” he replies. “It sounds to me like you’re protesting too much.”
I glare at him, despite the pounding in my chest. “Who wouldn’t protest the… the unwanted gifts, the stalking, the kisses?”
“One visit, one gift, one kiss,” he counters, stepping into my personal space. “Why are you pretending not to like the gift?” He tilts his head to the side, scrutinizing me. “You certainly liked the kiss.”
“I didn’t,” I hiss, pressing my hands to his chest and pushing. “You need to leave me alone, whoever you really are: the Devil, a man doing his bidding, or just a regular sinner.”
Without so much as budging, he replies, “Is that what you really want, little lamb?”
“Of course it’s what I want!” I shout. My voice echoes in the courtyard. “I want to be good, and pure, and worthy of Heaven. Whatever you’re doing, however you’re invading my thoughts and tempting me, it won’t work. I won’t fall for it.”
He smiles at me. “You’ve invaded mine, too. Tempted me. I think about you often.” He gestures in the direction of where I’d set the box down. “All the time. I thought a watch was an apt gift. It seems I was right.”
My face flushes red. “I’m not—I’m notthinkingabout you. I try to drive you from my nightmares!”
Nightmares that left me hot and bothered, that drove me to touch myself and imagine his voice calling melambandboy.
“Somehow,” he says, touching my face, “I doubt they’re nightmares. If they were nightmares, you wouldn’t be tempted by them.”
His fingers on my chin are scalding, yet I can’t pull away.
I should do more. I should deny all of this, denyhim.
All my visions of righteously smiting the Devil have fled though, and I’m left only staring into his deep brown eyes, seeing myself reflected in them.
Seeing the want and desire that I know all too well.
“Please,” I say, but I don’t know what I’m begging for.
I shake my head and try once more to get away from him. This time he wraps an arm around my back to stop me, and I cry out in pain as he puts pressure on my healing wounds.
He releases me, but before I have time to feel relieved, he’s spinning me around. The air hits the healing lashes as he tugs my shirt up, and I whimper as the cloth rubs against the ones higher on my back.
When he speaks, his voice is shaking with what I think is fury. “Who touched you? Who touched what’smine?”
“I’m not—” I try to step away from him, but he grips my shoulder tightly. “I took penance. Because of the fire alarm.” I try to glare at him. “So it was your fault.”
“You tookpenancefor something you didn’t do,” he states. Even in its darkness, even in its anger, his face is still beautiful. “Who punished you, Levi?” He lets out a dark laugh. “Who do I need to fucking kill?”
The vehemence of his words startles me.
Nobody has ever been so upset on my behalf.
But they terrify me too, because nothing about his demeanor makes me believe he’s bluffing.
He really wants to kill Father Zachariah, all for taking a whip to my back.
I wonder what his reaction would be if he knew that this is the penance I prefer, the one that gets me hard.
“No!” I struggle against him, which only makes my back hurt more, makes the pain spread out and fuzz up my mind. “It was right! I’m the reason you were even there. Why should somebody else be blamed for it?”
“I don’t care about ‘somebody else.’” He grips my shoulder more tightly. “I care aboutyou.”
“Why do you care?” I demand. “You don’t know me! I’m a single, corruptible soul in this sea of sinners.”
