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“I usually don’t take the wig off, at least not until the third date,” I try joking to relieve the embarrassing moment.
Gabriel doesn’t respond. Instead, he tosses the fake hair onto the counter and continues to wipe my face.
“You should have eaten,” he says.
I snort. “Food’s not going to cure this.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
Taking the rag from his hands, I wipe my mouth before standing.
“Nothing,” I say. “Let me finish cleaning up and I’ll be right out.”
He doesn’t move at first, just watches me closely. I wouldn’t be surprised if he could read every secret I’m holding. His gaze, no matter how short, gives you the feeling he sees you. Truly, sees you.
Gabriel leaves, and I finish cleaning up. Thankfully, I find a bottle of mouth wash under the sink and rinse out my mouth. I forgo the wig, there’s no saving it. I walk out of the bathroom to find him waiting for me with the duffle bag in his hands.
He slings the bag over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”
We walk out of the apartment, again with Gabriel in the lead and me following behind him.
chapter Eight
Brother
Beast
“Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.” Mother’s voice grows louder in my head with each step I take. “You are weak. Kill the whore before she corrupts your soul.”
“Did you hear what I said?”
My attention turns to Summer. Her brown eyes soften as she gazes up at me. After vomiting, her skin looks even more dull, almost gray in appearance. The bags under her eyes are heavier and she’s starting to sweat.
“She is sick with her sin. Let the Lord judge her and cast her into the pits of hell.”
Stopping on the sidewalk I shut my eyes and try to force her words out of my head. I try counting, but it isn’t helping.
“Rip her flesh from her body and force her to swallow it. She lives in the flesh she shall die by it.” The haze starts to cloud my thoughts. The Beast is hungry, and it wants to be fed. I need to kill something.
“Tell that bitch to shut the fuck up.”
My eyes pop open. I expect those words to come from my Priest voice, but it doesn’t. Summer is smiling at me, her hands on her hips as she watches me.
“What?” I ask.
“I said, tell that bitch to shut the fuck up. She’s interrupting our conversation.”
Just like that, the clawing need for blood dissipates.
“Better?” She asks with a smile.
I nod, unable to speak.
“Good. As I was saying,” she turns, and we continue to walk. “How many of these menu things do you have?”
For the first time in forever, my head is silent. There are no voices of my mother or Priest. There is only Summer.
“Only eight tonight.”
