I don't know.
I just know that my voice keeps working, keeps praying, keeps counting?—
CRACK.
"Seven—I am forgiven?—"
—and Saint Lorcan's hands keep touching me between strikes, grounding me, reminding me I'm real?—
CRACK.
My ass is burning,burning, every nerve ending screaming.
CRACK.
But I'm also so wet I can feel it dripping down my thighs.
CRACK.
And my brain is static and light andnothing.
CRACK.
And I'm crying but I don't remember starting.
CRACK.
"Twelve—I am yours—" And the prayer is the only thing holding me together?—
CRACK.
The only thing keeping me from dissolving completely.
CRACK.
And Saint Lorcan's voice cuts through the haze. "Almost there, luv. Three more. You're doin' so well."
CRACK.
CRACK.
One more.
Just one more.
CRACK.
"Seventeen—I am held?—"
The words fall from my lips.
And then—silence.
No more strikes.
No more pain.
Just Saint Lorcan's hands on my hips, holding me steady while I shake apart.
