Page 24 of Heartless Heathens
I didn’t realize that I’d been crying the entire time, until we’d arrived back to what was oncemyhome but somehow was nowtheirs.I looked down to find my nightgown stained with my tears and my face far too wet.
Felix opened the door to the chapel and Sonny stood there, arms crossed, with a look that said he was disappointed that we’d made him wait this long. I stepped back but he reached forward, wrapping his hand around my arm and yanking me towards him.
“Are you going to tell me the truth?” he asked through gritted teeth.
“The truth about what?” I asked, doing my best to steady my voice and find some sense of bravery inside of me.
“The truth about you and Frollo. What are you to him?” he asked me, using his finger to keep my gaze on him.
I examined his face for the first time, his eyes were a bright blue, reminiscent of an iceberg—sharp, cold, but full of depth. His skin was pale, and his black hair was draped over his eyes almost as if every strand knew its designated place on his head by memory. His jaw was strong, and it was emphasized more by the paintings that covered his throat. There was one on his face though that stood out. The words ‘Son of Satan’ were inked above his left eyebrow, right along the bone as it arched down by his temple.
He was terrifyingly beautiful.
“Already having dirty thoughts about me, Pet?” He tsked loudly before letting a sinister smirk paint over his face.
I pushed his finger off my chin and looked down, fighting the heat that rushed to my face and hoping to God that he couldn’t actually read my mind.
“He hasn’t asked me to do anything.” I told him the truth, but somehow his facial expression seemed less content.
“I ran you a bath, you’re fucking filthy.” His tone dropped to a colder one again, and he walked away from the door towards the dark hallway. “Undress her, I don’t want her tracking dirt into the house.”
I looked at Felix, widening my eyes and recoiling as he reached for me. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised.
Could I believe him?
I had absolutely nothing anymore, but apparently, I had the word of this man who’d done nothing but feed me ice cream and a sandwich without knowing anything about me.
“Why are you crying again?” he asked me. “Is it because my brother hurt you?”
I shook my head and then nodded, confused and unsure of what it was I was feeling. I was hurt in so many ways it felt like I was a scar ripping up from the inside to form an entirely new wound.
“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” He pulled me closer and I looked up at him, partly shocked at his chosen words,
“You want to help me?” I asked him, my voice still scratchy from my encounter with his brother.
“We didn’t let Frollo have you taken away. Doesn’t that mean something?” he asked me gently tugging at the bottom of my nightgown and I relaxed my arms away from my chest.
“Where was he going to send me?” I asked him. He lifted the dress up and I had no choice but to lift my arms up so it could slip over my head.
“Somewhere that wouldn’t have been kind to you.”
“And you will be?” I asked.
He looked at me with something that reminded me of hunger. His gaze dropped, examining the rest of my body and he bit his lips down into a flat line like he was fighting back laughter.
“What?” I asked him, but he shook his head.
“Go to the bathroom, Sonny is waiting for you.” He pointed to the hallway and walked off shaking his head.
I inched my way across what was once the Mass Hall, where dozens of pews stood in a row in front of a choir and an altar. Now it was a well-lit kitchen with lots of steel and shiny black surfaces.
“What the fuck is that?” Sonny spat out right as I walked into the bathroom.
He sat on the edge of a golden clawfoot tub nearly filled to the brim. I instinctively reached to cover my chest, but for some reason it didn’t feel as uncomfortable with him like all the other times Father Frollo had watched me bathe.
I shuddered away the thought, looking to see he was pointing at my undergarments.
“My underwear?” I asked, not sure what else he could be referring to.
