“Stay here,” I say, but the words are pointless. She’s already scrambling up behind me, blanket trailing like a cape.
The sound of glass crashing.
By the time I reach the kitchen, Dade is half in the window, blood streaming from a cut on his forearm, his eyes wild. I grab the nearest heavy object, the cast-iron skillet from the stove, and raise it, keeping myself between him and Sarah.
He roars, lunges forward, feet skidding in the mess of broken glass and fallen pans.
“Get back!” I shout, but he’s too far gone for words.
He swings at me, a wild, looping punch. I manage to dodge, but his fist catches my shoulder and sends me staggering. He’s stronger than I expected. I taste copper, feel a throb already starting in my arm.
Dade turns to Sarah, his lip curls.
“There you are,” he spits.
I don’t think, just act. I swing the skillet, connecting with a sick crack against his side. He howls, doubles over, but recovers fast.
The next few seconds are chaos. A tangle of limbs, the metallic tang of blood and fear. Dade lands a punch to my ribs that knocks the air out of me. I hear Sarah scream, high and sharp. I clamp down on Dade’s wrist as he tries to grab her, wrenching it backward as hard as I can until something pops.
He screams, and I shove him hard into the kitchen table. He hits, bounces off, and collapses to the floor, moaning. Sarah is still in the doorway, hands pressed to her mouth.
Tears stream down her face, but she’s not making a sound.
“It’s okay,” I manage, voice ragged. “You’re okay.”
She nods, then wraps her arms around me, burying her face in my chest. She’s shaking so badly it takes everything I have to hold her steady.
Behind us, Dade is groaning, but not moving. I half-drag Sarah out of the cabin and into the sanctuary, where the light from the stained glass paints everything in bruised colors. I shut the doorand lock it. Only then do I let myself slide down to the floor. Sarah clings to my shirt.
We stay there a long time, until the only sound is our breathing and a far-off wail of sirens.
It’s over, I think. At least for today.
"I can't stay here, Father," Sarah says. "All I bring is destruction. I might as well keep the chaos at home. I can't leave Ma with him acting like this. Just … just take me back. The cops will hold Dade for a few days. I'll try to convince Ma to leave before he gets out."
"I don't want you anywhere near that," I stop myself from cursing. "That barbarian. I won't let him hurt you. Not if I can help it."
She caresses my face the same way she did last night, urging me to lean into her touch. "It's okay, Father Michael, I'm not yours to protect. Besides, you have an entire church of parishioners who need you. I imagine I've caused enough trouble, and the rumors would be running like wildfire."
"I don't care about the rumors, Sarah. I care about you."
Sarah means more to me than just protecting her from Dade and the chaos of her mother's abusive relationship. As important as that is, somehow I feel a greater need to make her safe. A pull I cannot explain. Still, I can't stop Sarah from going to the home she was just asked to leave. If that is what she really wants.
Against my better judgment, I bring her home, promising to follow up with her the next day. She is adamant that Dade won't be coming back after the police take him, but I can't relax.How can she be certain he won’t return? I barely get through my duties, and forget about going to bed. An uncomfortable presence settles over me. I am certain Sarah is in danger. My eyes can't close without seeing Dade, eyes wide like an animal, seething at the chance to get his hands on Sarah.
My Sarah.
The next morning, I feel tired and worried, and force myself through morning service. As soon as the duties of the collar are over, I rush to my phone. When Sarah doesn't answer her cell, I dial the house, and Eileen answers after a dozen rings. Her voice is a husk, barely more than breath.
“Hello?”
“It’s Father Michael. May I speak to Sarah?”
A hesitation, then: “She’s not… she’s not here.” The way she says it sends up a flare of dread.
“Do you know where I might find her?”
A long silence.
