“God is dead, and so are you,” she says, as she presses the cross into his throat and blood pours out, covering her hands. The way she moves quickly, quietly, with absolute precision, like a skilled assassin, piques my interest. When was her first kill? Who was it? I won’t bother asking her because I’m sure she wouldn’t tell me. She’d likely tell my brothers anything they want to know, but I’m the enemy, even though I know I’ve made it that way. I drew the line in the sand, and I stand by that decision. Initially, I was concerned about her attracting law enforcement to us, but as time goes on, that’s become the lesser of my two issues.
I’m watching my brother fall madly in love with her. Carter’s mental health has been shaky at best, and I just heard him say he’d rather die than live without her. There’s no way Killer plans to stick around once her revenge is satisfied. Maybe for a while, just to piss me off, but one day, she’ll disappear. I won’t lose my brother because of this woman. It’s my reason for the text message I sent last night to my buddy on the police force. He works in the Gang Enforcement Unit in California. This is out of his jurisdiction, but I know he can get this in front of the right people, even if it takes a little longer than I’d like. While I feel for Heather, with what she has been through, I can’t allow my brother to be a casualty. Waiting will only further his attachment to her, and make things even harder than they need to be. Once she’s gone, I’ll watch him closely until he’s over her.
Within minutes, the blonde killer has three dead men around her, splayed out on different tables throughout the yard. All of them meeting their maker by her hand, from crosses that havebeen sharpened to a deadly point. My brothers watch her like a hawk, ready to protect her at a moment's notice. Knox stands to the left with a knife in his hand, and Carter is on the right with his bow at the ready. Carter is the most skilled archer I’ve ever seen. His precision is unmatched. If she’d let him, they could have all been dead in seconds. Knox and I killed several of our father’s men after he murdered our mother, with disgusting brutality. We didn’t let Carter join us because of his history, and I’m not sure he has ever forgiven us for it. I assume that’s why he isn’t forcing the issue with Heather. And Knox would never make the same mistake twice. These are her kills. I watch as Heather dashes across the yard with my hand on the glock in the back of my pants.Would I kill for her?The question stuns me for a few moments as I remind myself I’m out here for my brothers. It’sthemI’m protecting.
I may not like this woman, but the way she moves silently, catching each man off guard, is admirable. I’ve never seen a woman move like this. Graceful and quick. She has the cross to their throats before they realize she’s there. The fact that each man has earbuds in his ears certainly helps, but she stays unnoticed as she moves through the trees like nothing more than a dark shadow.
Heather kills two more men in the same fashion as the first three—a cross to the throat—uttering the words, “God is dead, and so are you,” when a voice booms from an overhead loudspeaker.
“I offered you salvation, you chose eternal damnation. Evil dwells in you, and you will burn alive, and then burn in Hell for eternity.”
She drops the cross at her feet and shakes her head, her eyes wide, as tears roll down her cheeks.
“N-no. I’m not evil.”
Again the man’s voice booms through the silent night.
“Do you remember the night you became my wife? What did I tell you as we became one?”
“You’re my wife now. Nothing is off limits for us. If you run from me, you die. I am the Prophet, and this is God's order. To disobey me, is to disobey God,” she whispers softly as her knees hit the ground.
“Please stop, Daddy. It hurts.”
Heather sobs as my brothers move toward her, and Knox scoops her into his arms. He pulls her against his chest as Carter leans down and kisses her tears.
“I’ve got you, Tesoro.”
She throws her arms around his neck and sobs into his chest endlessly. I hate the woman, and I want her gone, but this is gutting to watch. Little girls don’t deserve what this disgusting fuck did to her. And although I’ll never tell her, she didn’t deserve this. But it changes nothing. What she has been through does not undo Carter’s trauma. And it doesn’t change the likelihood that she’s going to destroy him. I simply can’t allow that to happen. Despite the hurt she’s been through her entire life, hurting her now is necessary, because she won’t go away on her own. It will be better for Carter this way. It’s my job to protect him, it always has been. Sitting around, waiting for her to destroy what’s left of my brother isn’t fucking working for me. I made him a promise, and I intend to keep it.
December 25,2004
Knox jumpsup and down while staring at the Christmas tree with excitement. Mom smiles, but shakes her head no.
“Not a single present is to be opened until your brother comes down.”
She nods at me, as if answering the question I haven’t asked yet. I walk through the living room to the stairs and take the steps two at a time. I knock twice on my brother's door just like mom told us to. There’s no response, but I hear heavy crying. I take a deep breath, open the door, and move inside. Glancing around the room, I don’t see him, but I hear the continued cries. Looking under the bed, I find Carter underneath the frame, trembling with fear.
“Can I come sit with you?” I ask, squatting down and meeting his wide, terrified gaze.
“I won’t touch you,” I promise, and he nods his head slowly. Crawling under the bed, I sit with my brother for several minutes before I speak, knowing I won’t hear any words in response.
“I know you’re scared, but you’re safe. I know I’m only five like you, but if he comes back, I’ll get a knife from the kitchen and stab him. Until I die, I’ll protect you. I will never let someone hurt you again. I swear it, Carter.”
He stares at my hands, not with fear, but like he’s trying to tell me something. Everything with him is a guess since he won’t speak, but I put my hands under my legs, and he moves closer and wraps his arms around me. I hold still, because this is the first time he has allowed physical contact since he came back to us.
When he lets go of me, I ask, “You’re okay with hugging us as long as we can’t touch you?”
He looks away like he’s embarrassed, but nods his head in agreement.
“Does mom know?”
He shakes his head quickly.
“I’ll tell her,” I say, while crawling out from under the bed.
“Let’s go. It’s Christmas, and Santa came.”
I don’t believe in Santa, but my brothers do. I don’t believe in anything. I’m not any more normal than Carter is, but for totally different reasons. Bad things happened to him, but I was born this way.
