Deliver us from Evil - Logan Fox Page 0,2

five kids to pull it off. He sat and watched. Chose us, because he saw strength and resilience.

If Zachary hadn’t come to the basement, we’d have died there like the other boys.

If we hadn’t been there, Zach would never have escaped.

Everything happens for a reason. Trinity’s arrival only strengthened that belief. She came to Saint Amos—to us—for a reason. It wasn’t a coincidence.

I thought it was a sign from God. A reminder that there was more to life than revenge. That love could exist in a void. Until we discovered who she really was.

She wasn’t a Godsend.

She’d been sent by the Devil.

There’s movement at the partition—we woke Cass. He moves aside, letting Apollo into the room.

“She’s gone?” Apollo asks. The disappointment in his voice hits me harder than it should. Apollo has changed so much since Trinity arrived. I don’t know if the others see it, but he’s started interacting more, not just sitting quietly in the corner absorbed in whatever toy Zachary lavished on him. When Zachary isn’t around, he starts talking about what we’ll do after we’ve found our Ghosts and ended them, as if he’s obsessed with starting a new life.

Before, he’d been drowning in the past. Trinity had brought him to the surface. Had breathed life back into his cold, dead mind.

“Yeah,” Zach says, “and we should get going too.”

How often he’s sat like that. Slightly hunched, cigarette dribbling smoke from one end as it dangles from his fingertips. He’s lost weight again. It happens when things come to a head. He stops eating, and his body takes sustenance in any form it can—even if it’s from his own flesh.

He locks eyes with me. Green to my green.

Green…but outsiders only see black. My Ghost liked my eyes. Forced me to keep them open. Forced me to watch. And then told me how pretty they were when I cried. So, like Cass shaves his head, I hide behind colored contacts. I’ve worn them for so long, so religiously, that I hardly notice them anymore.

“Now how about we get a move on?” Zach stands and crushes out his cigarette in the designated mug.

“First, coffee,” Cass mutters. He doesn’t seem that pained that Trinity’s gone. I guess she was just a piece of tail to him. It’s easy for him to pick up girls. He simply has to look in their direction and smile.

“I’ll bring you some,” Apollo says. “I need to grab my stuff.”

“Yeah, me too.” Cass stretches. “I’ll walk with you.”

Zach turns on them with narrowed eyes. “The fuck you will. We’re sticking with protocol until Gabriel’s tied up in that fucking cabin. Got it?”

Apollo nods, even dropping his gaze. Cass scoffs and gives him a dismissive wave. “Fine, whatever.” But there’s a shift in his eyes I’ve seen too many times not to know what it means.

The moment they’re out from under Zach’s watchful eye, they’ll meet up. They might even walk together anyway, despite what he says. Because although he’s taken command, Zach doesn’t control us.

I guess, after going through what we did, we’ll never let someone have that much say in our lives.

Apollo and Cass leave, and I make to go after them, to warn them. Because they might not like it, but Zach’s right. We have to be careful. If Gabriel slips through our fingers again…

But a hand catches my arm, squeezing my bicep hard, almost cruelly.

And I have to let the other two go.

I glance over my shoulder. Zach’s face is stone.

“Gotta run some things by you,” he says.

Code for “I need you.” Always has been.

So I stay.

We smoke a cigarette together. We have a shot of whiskey. And we listen to each other recite exactly what we’ll do to our Ghost the day we find him.

Chapter Three

Cass

Where the fuck is Apollo? I’d have stuck with him after we left the library, but he said he needed to take care of some shit. I thought he was being literal—I wasn’t hanging around for that. But that was ages ago, and he’s not answering my calls.

I need to make sure he’s okay, and that’s pissing me off.

I hate needing things.

Sleep.

Sex.

Coffee.

Sleep replaced the heroin. Coffee replaced the adrenaline. And sex replaced…Huh. I guess it didn’t replace anything. I suppose my brothers need things too, but they’re not addicts like me.

The least I can do is fucking own that shit.

Denial’s for pussies.

I could slip into the kitchen and make myself a cuppa. That wouldn’t raise too many eyebrows for Cassius Santos, the Hall Monitor. After,