Page 14 of The Final Deal

Mom blubbers so loudly that it’s deafening. Dad immediately rushes over, scooping her up before she collapses to her knees. She holds onto him like he’s a life raft, the only thing out in deep, rough seas that could possibly keep her afloat as she sobs uncontrollably.

Robbie’s worry is visible through blurry eyes, even more than the day he grabbed me from the bridge that was supposedly torn down already when we were little. He moves closer to me, coming by my side—I guess to catch me, too, if our parents confess to whatever the fuck is going on.

“Shh, babe,” Dad murmurs into her ear as tears cascade down her face and he strokes her back. Her mascara runs and makeup sloughs off her face with each swipe of her cardigan sleeve.

Gradually, Dad helps her straighten and stand on her own feet. But she grabs his hand, practically strangling it until his flesh pales.

“The devil’s been after me since I came back,” I say at a normal volume. Mom’s expression falters again, and I’m about to strangle the answer out of her. “Why does the devil want me?”

A sob wracks her body again. “Because I made a deal with him: the soul of my first-born daughter for New Year’s Ball.”

Chapter 6

Desecrate Through Reverence

–Avenged Sevenfold

My heart plummets,and the rest of my body follows suit, falling and failing all at once. A strong body catches me before I bust my knee caps on the tile floor; a chair scrapes, and my ass is planted on it. I’m not sure if I’ve fainted, or if I’ve finally died and am entering through the gates of hell.

I force myself to blink a few times until my surroundings piece together like a confusing kaleidoscope: Robbie by my side, patting my face and coaxing me to open my eyes, that I’m okay; Dad poised in a pounce, ready to swoop in and take over; Mom, still standing behind the island, hugging herself like she’s in need of extra reassurance.

Heat blisters my face to the point that I think I’ve been sitting out in the sun for a few hours without sunscreen.

She gave me to the devil before I was even born.

“I didn’t want kids,” Mom explains. She dabs at her splotchy cheeks with her sleeves and sniffles with renewed resolve. “So… so I thought it wouldn’t matter, giving up a soul that would never exist.”

She howls at the ceiling, covering her face despite the fact that she can’t hide from her shame—not anymore when it’s out in the open like the dirtiest fucking laundry in a trailer park.

Dad returns to her side, slipping his arms around her and pulling her close. I can’t make out what he murmurs, but knowing Dad, it’s words of reassurance—that it’s alright, everything will be okay.

But how is anything okay after what she’s done to me?

“And then Robbie came along,” Mom continues, chuckling as she gazes at her firstborn lovingly. “He changed everything, and I couldn’t imagine life without him. But… that meant I could get pregnant again, and it could be a girl. So I got on birth control, and we did everything we could to prevent another pregnancy when no doctor would sterilize either of us.”

Her face crumples, and I sink lower into the chair.

“Then I got pregnant again. I didn’t know until I was in my second trimester, and your dad found out before I could do anything about it without him knowing. A-and he wassoexcited to have another baby,” Mom says softly, peering up at Dad with eyes that glimmer from the overhead lights. She takes his hands in hers and squeezes with a small smile. “Even more excited to have a little girl to spoil like a princess.”

She takes a deep breath. “So I did the only thing I knew would help. We fell away from the Church for a little while, so I went straight back had Robbie baptized, and I had you baptized a week after you were born.” Her eyes, stark from the redness surrounding the bright blue, focus on me. “Ever since then, I’ve kept up with your sacraments. We’ve kept the house and everything possible blessed by priests when we moved out here.”

I always thought my parents were devout Catholics. Well, Mom, at least; I think thirteen years of Catholic school had Dad jaded for the longest time. But after he laid eyes on the twenty-four-year-old blond up at the front row of a Rush concert inAtlanta on a Tuesday, he hunted her down after the show, got her phone number, made the fifteen hour drive from Atlanta to San Antonio that Friday, took her out on their first date that Saturday, and she made sure he stuck around for Mass the following morning because the only way it was going to work out was if he would go with her. I still overhear him grumbling about having to go some Sunday mornings, but I see the look in his eye when they sit next to each other in the pew—he wouldn’t change a thing.

The very definition of if he wanted to, he would.

And I remember Mom’s royal bitch fit about us moving here after Grandpa died—Dad was so gung-ho about living in the country, but Mom wasn’t having any of it and refused. Dad slept on the couch for a couple of weeks. I would sneak out of my room with Robbie to play tricks on him, and he would wake up extra snappy and mad. Dad wouldn’t budge, and neither would Mom, but they had to do something and quick because it was expensive to keep up with two properties, especially one with land.

And then Dad wasn’t sleeping on the couch anymore. A few weeks later, we were moving into Grandma and Grandpa’s house and becoming feral country kids who would chase each other with dried cow patties in the backyard.

My eyes widen on my mother. “You made your deal here. On the bridge. That’s why you didn’t want to move.”

Her throat slides. “I had your dad double check the bridge was torn down before I agreed to move us out here. Mama ‘n’ Daddy tore it down ages ago, but… but then you went out there, and it was up again.”

“She didn’t tell me about the deal until you saw him on the bridge,” Dad pipes up. His arm is firmly around Mom, comforting her as she confesses her greatest sin. “By then, it was too late; we couldn’t afford to move off the property.”

“So I kept the house blessed and exorcised. Priests, the twins’ mother and aunt—we made sure we kept your tracks covered so he couldn’t get to you.”

I avert my eyes. Robbie tries to take my hand, but I cross my arms and curl into myself, facing away from all of them to close my eyes and squeeze frustrated, angry tears out.

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