“I know,” she whispered.
“You’re a child killer, and prison is much too good for you.”
“What can I do? Tell me what shall I do?” she begged, the tablet disintegrating in her mouth.
“You need to do what you were supposed to do,” Michael snarled. “You were careless and they found you too soon. Why the hell you thought you should travel all the way up here to this place, I don’t know. I don’t want you in prison; it’s too good for you. You killed my children—my sweet Anabel and Owen. You need to be in hell for what you’ve done.”
“Yes, yes,” Delores agreed, though she knew that she was living in a version of hell right now anyway.
“So you’ll do it?” Michael asked, finally, mercifully, clicking on the bedside light. “You’ll do what needs to be done? You’ll do the right thing for once in your life? And you’ll do it right this time, won’t you?”
“Yes,” Delores said, the single word frantic on her lips. “Yes, I’ll do it. I’ll kill myself.”
“You won’t let me down this time, will you?” Michael climbed on the bed, his hand stroking over her knees.
“No,” she sobbed. “I’ll do it properly this time. I won’t let you down again, Michael. I promise.”
“Good,” he said, his hand pushing her nightdress away. “Because you promised that day, the day you killed them. You promised to kill yourself, and then didn’t.”
“I’m not worthy of anything else but death.”
“Exactly,” Michael agreed.
“I’ll do it.”
Michael spread his fingers wide and let his hand glide down her thighs, a slow drip of sweat trailing down the side of his face. “Good. It’s all you deserve. This is all your fault. Not mine. Say it. Say it’s all your fault and not mine.”
“This is all my fault, not yours. Never yours,” Delores agreed, the knot in her stomach making her feel sick.
The tablet was gone, and she felt exhausted, tired beyond anything she had ever felt before. Her limbs felt leaden, her head fuzzy. She longed for the death Michael made her swear upon.
“Yes, yes,” she murmured.
“There was so much blood, Del’,” Michael said again, pulling her panties down her legs until they were at her ankles. “So much blood.” He shook his head and tutted. “Can you still hear their screams? I bet you can,” he whispered. “I bet you hear their cries all the time, don’t you?” he unbuckled his belt as he spoke. “Do you, Del’?”
Delores nodded, a slow trickle of tears sliding out of the corner of her eyes. “I do.”
“You need to be punished for it. Their cries are only one of the punishments, Del’.”
Delores nodded again. “Bad girls have to be punished, don’t they? Do you remember how I had to punish you when you were bad?”
Michael liked to discipline her. She knew he liked it, even when he told her he didn’t. Even when he told her that he hated doing it, but it was for her own good. To teach her a lesson. She nodded. This was the least of her punishments.
Michael spread her legs and lay between her thighs, his face an inch from hers. She felt him throbbing against the side of her thigh, his breath hot on her face, his proximity overwhelming.
“Tell me you’re a bad girl,” he said, his hands on her shoulders.
“I’m a bad girl,” she whispered, wincing as he pushed against her entrance.
“Again. Tell me again.”
“I’m a very bad girl,” she sobbed quietly as Michael smiled down at her.
“Tell me you deserve this.”
“I deserve this.”
“Yes, you do.” He grunted as she closed her eyes and prayed for silence. “You’re a very bad girl who deserves her punishment.”
