CROSS
I PARK MY car behind Oak Grove and enter through the back door. “Dad?” I call out. He had sent me a message earlier while I was at baseball practice to meet him here. A quick look at my watch shows it’s almost midnight. “Dad?” I yell this time.
No answer.
Making my way down the hallway, I open the door on my right and step into his office.
“Son,” he says, looking up at me from behind his desk. My mother kneels on the floor to the right of it. Her palms on her thighs, head down. Mr. Reed—Bones and Grave’s dad—lounges on the couch.
“Mom?” I go to walk over to her, but my father stands and sidesteps his desk, blocking my view of her.
“I called you here …”
“What in the fuck are you doing?” I demand, placing my hands on his shoulders to move him, but he doesn’t budge. “Mom?” I call out to her, but she stays silent.
“I brought you here to repent,” he states.
“Fuck that shit!” I’ve grown to where I need the pain. His punishment to me is my acceptance to his world. But why is my mother here? I can hear her softly crying.
“Don’t talk to me that way!” he shouts, shoving me backward.
“Mom!” I bark at her, and she flinches. “What the hell are you doing? Get up!”
She stays still, and my father throws his head back, laughing. “She knows her place, son. Do you need a reminder of yours?” Before I can respond, he reaches out and wraps a hand around my throat. He pushes me backward through the office, taking away my air and practically lifting my feet off the floor. He knocks my back into the door, throwing it open in the process. He drags me down the rest of the hallway and into the chapel with Mr. Reed behind us. He then shoves me forward, making me trip and fall over a pew.
With a quick look around, I see that the candles are already lit, and he starts undoing his cuff links and then sliding his sleeves up his forearm.
“What in the fuck are you doing with Mom?” I demand. I’ve never seen her like that before. I mean, I’m twenty-one. I’m not a virgin. I know my father fucks around on her, but I don’t think they’re into BDSM shit and stuff like that. So, why was she kneeling on his office floor as if she’s a submissive? Does he treat her the way he treats me? Worse?
“What I do with your mother is none of your business,” he states and removes the cross from around his neck. He takes a candle and heats up the precious metal that he cherishes so much.
I fist my hands. “I will not bow down to you.” Not today. I will not kneel for him to burn me. Not until I know what is going on. This is different than all the other times. Why now? Why her? What has happened that he wanted me to see that?
He looks up at me, and a bone-chilling smile spreads across his face. “Genevieve,” he calls out.
Seconds later, my mother comes walking into the chapel. Tears run down her face, and I see that her right eye is swollen. He hit her.
“Come here, Gen,” he calls her, and like a dog, she tucks her tail and slowly walks over to him.
“Mom.” I step forward. “You don’t have to do this.”
She says nothing and doesn’t even look my way. Once she gets close to him, he grabs her by the hair, and she cries out. He grips the back of her neck and shoves her facedown onto the floor that I’ve kneeled at so many times before. Kneeling beside her, he pins her down.
“Come over here, Cross. It’s time.”
“No,” I state. I will not do whatever sick shit he’s wanting from me.
“You will do this!” he growls. “It’s time your mother pays for her sins.”
He’s lost his goddamn mind. “I won’t do it.”
Mr. Reed steps toward me, and I take a step back. “Leave him be.” My father huffs. “I’ll do it myself.” While he holds her down with one hand, he holds up the cross to a candle, heating it up and then pressing it to her back.
She screams, thrashing against him.
I go to run over and rip him off, but Mr. Reed holds me back.
She sobs as he does it again. And again. Scarring her back with crosses to match mine. Once he decides he’s done, he stands, and she falls to her side crying.
“Take her home,” he orders Mr. Reed. “I’ll finish this later.”
Finish? What else is he going to do to her?
He lets go of me, and I stay where I am, not wanting to make it worse for my mother. “You piece of shit,” I say through gritted teeth once they are gone. “How long have you been doing this to her?”