Fuck.
That’s where Carter was. The place is run by a religious organization. Their slogan is ‘faith based healing,’ but there’s no healing. It’s a place of torture. I know with my brother, they used his issues against him as a weapon. They tied him up and forced him to be touched. As I sit here nursing my Macallan whiskey, I wonder now if that’s how he came up with his insane idea for Knox to restrain him. As bad as it was for Carter at St.Dymphnas, I somehow think this is worse for Heather. Given her traumatic religious upbringing, this must be the cruelest form of torture for her. It’s not lost on me that I put her there. Maybe not directly, but it was a result of my recklessness. Now it’s my job to get her out. If by some miracle my brother wasn’t successful in ending his life, this is the only path to earn his forgiveness. By giving back what was taken from them.
“What are you going to do?” Butch asks as I flip through the folder, looking at the various things he has compiled. The first item I see is a photograph of Heather. She looks gorgeous as always, even with tear-stained cheeks.
I’m so fucking sorry, Killer.
I flip the image over as I look at a letter addressed to the judge in her case and suddenly feel physically sick.
Dear Judge Martin,
My name isJedediah and I am Heather Mancini’s father. I am aware that my daughter’s crimes are heinous. She is very sick, but I believe she can be helped while also serving an appropriate sentence. As we both know, Wellard Asylum is no longer an available option for her. I would like to request that she go to St. Dymphna’s because, as I stated, she can heal while serving her sentence. I am not suggesting she should ever go free. They can offer her faith-based healing, and I beg of you to allow my daughter to become whole again.
Sincerely,
JedediahMancini
“Jesus Christ.”I say under my breath as I run a hand through my hair. I helped her father torture her. Everything he said to the judge about wanting her to heal was a boldfaced fucking lie. He knows as well as I do this will fucking break her.
“What are you going to do?” Butch asks me again.
I swallow back the rest of my drink and answer him.
“I’m going to get her out, and then I’ll kill that motherfucker.”
He knits his eyebrows together, his expression concerned as it probably should be.
“How, Killian? Let's talk this out.”
I shrug my shoulders and rise from the table.
“The same way I got Carter out.”
He yells after me, but I don’t pay him any attention. Every minute she’s stuck in there brings us closer to losing her permanently. I fucked up, but I’m going to make this right even if it kills me, and it just might.
CHAPTER SIX
THE HEATHEN
“Kneel,” Sister Agatha orders once again, and my reply is the same as it has been for the last hour.
“No.” I hiss through clenched teeth as she smacks the ruler against the back of my thighs.
“Your father was right about you. Disobedient. Wicked little girls burn in Hell.”
The air in my lungs gets trapped in my throat at the mere mention of him. No, it’s more than that. He was right about me? So, she knows him? How does a Catholic nun know my father, the leader of a cult?
Wicked.
A word I’ve heard hundreds of times.
“How-“
Sister Agatha flashes me a sinister grin.
“Continue to defy the Lord, and you’ll be in confinement.”
Defy the Lord.
