Page 93 of Drag You Down
I stiffen, and my fingers clutch the knife more tightly. “You,” I say to Zachariah. “You hurt her.You hurt her!” I don’t understand how someone could ever hurt Eve, a gentle soul who only meant the best.
Maybe I was upset with her for getting him, but that doesn’t mean I love her any less. That doesn’t mean she deserves anything like this.
She only did what she was taught to do. What Zachariah pounded into our brains, through endless sermons and false penance andfear.
Because we were always afraid, weren’t we? We knew that disobedience would mean we’d be cast out on the streets once more, without food or money or any education.
He made us dependent on him.
He ruined us.
“I… I didn’t—” Zachariah shouts. “He’s lying! I barely even?—”
Gabriel closes in on us and wraps his hand around Zachariah’s throat. “No? Then why was her back covered in red? Why could she barely walk? Her mouth moved without words. That was a woman who had been tortured.”
Rage blinds me.
It’s one thing for him to have hurt me; it’s another entirely for him to have harmed her.
I pounce, and the knife slices along his bare arm.
Blood immediately wells up to the surface, and he cries out. I think he’s more startled than hurt, and that only enrages me more. I want tohurthim. I want to make himscream.
I hadn’t been there to protect her then, but I’ll protect her now.
I’ll make sure he never, ever hurts her — or anyone else — ever again.
“Gut him,” Gabriel commands, raising Zachariah’s shirt up. “Show him what sinners like him deserve.”
He’s worse than a sinner.
He’s a monster.
Maybe he’s the Devil I’ve been afraid of all along, in the guise of a man of God.
The knife is surprisingly light in my hand, but the edge is keen as I stab him the first time.
And the second.
Blood spills from the wounds, and I realize he’s screaming. It only spurs me on, and I stab him again.
And again.
“Shhh,” Gabriel says, covering Zachariah’s mouth. “You’ll wake the neighbors.”
The screams become muffled.
Tears are rolling down my cheeks, but I can’t bring myself to stop. I drag the blade all the way up to Zachariah’s rib cage, and then to the side. The scent of blood overwhelms everything else.
The red is on my hands, on my shirt. It splattered on Gabriel’s clothes too.
All while Zachariah makes pathetic noises against Gabriel’s hand. His eyes are filled with tears.
How often did I cry because of this man?
How many times did I sit in the dark, begging for forgiveness, wishing he’d chosen to whip me instead?
“This is what you deserve,” I snarl at him. “Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth…wound for wound.” I look up at Gabriel, blinking several times to try to clear my vision. Blood drips steadily from the knife, and I stab Zachariah again.
