He chuckles and walks toward me, jerking the air freshener out of my hand and takes a deep breath. He narrows his eyes for a moment and looks behind me before he nods in understanding.
“Bad, bad, bad,” he chides, shaking his head slowly. “Why are you all behaving so badly all of a sudden? Do you like being punished?”
The slight bounce in his step tells me that, regardless of my answer, he’s going to do whatever he deems necessary to correct my misstep, and I can’t fight him over it because it would mean Vaughn would have to take my place.
“Pater?” I begin slowly. “Where’s Eloy?”
“Did you ... Did you just ask me a question?” he inquires in a mocking tone as the grin fades from his rugged face.
Normally, I would back down. I would tell him no and I would await whatever punishment he deemed necessary, and allow him to take the appropriate corrective steps against me. But Eloy is missing now, and I want fucking answers, no matter the cost.
“Yes,” I reply defiantly. “Where is he? Where’s the boy?”
Pater walks quickly toward me and I can feel my body stiffen, but I maintain the defiance in my eyes that I feel in my heart for him as he stops in front of me. His breathing is uneven and I can see the fire burning in his gaze, but I refuse to let him consume me in those flames; not until I know where Eloy is.
His hand flies through the air and lands firmly across my face, almost knocking me to the ground. The sting of it makes my eyes water slightly and I stumble, but don’t fall. This isn’t what he wants. He doesn’t want me to oppose him; he’s told me that so many times before, and that’s why my second home is that abandoned fucking hole in the ground.
I wish I had the will sometimes to not fight him and just let him kill me, but these boys – who would fight for them if I lay down and died?
“Now, I’m going to ask you again,” he says in an even tone. “Did you just ask me a question?”
I put my fingers gingerly to my lip and wipe away the blood from the small cut. He’s never hit me hard enough to draw blood before, because he cares about my outside appearance. I use my tongue to quickly lick away the copper tasting drops still lingering on the corner of my mouth before I answer him.
“Yes. Where is the boy?”
His mouth tightens into an angry line as he stares down at me. He should expect this from me by now when it comes to the welfare of the children, and I find myself wondering if he left his common sense out in the woods as well.
“Let’s get a couple of things straight here,” he says, after letting out a deep sigh. “First of all, he’s not your son. Neither of them are; you’re just the stupid little bitch I chose to play mommy to them. What I decide to do with them, or to them, is really not your fucking concern. Remember that.”
Pater crosses his arms over his chest and the grin begins to return. He likes
to use words to cut me down; he always said that words would leave a deeper cut than any blade. Words – the ones spoken to inflict harm – will stay with you much longer than any scar worn on the skin.
If Pater is anything, he’s a master of cutting deeply with his words.
Don’t let him do this while you still don’t know where Eloy is.
“Secondly,” he says, dropping his arms to his sides, “You can’t keep secrets from me. Even when you think you’ve got everything figured you, you should know better by now. Which begs a question. You haven’t been up here alone, have you? No amount of that shit you sprayed can hide it from me, which means I’ll give you an option. Even though you don’t deserve it, even though he doesn’t deserve it, tell me. Who’s keeping me company in bed tonight? You, or the nosy little fuck that can’t do as he’s told?”
“Neither,” I reply, my voice wavering slightly. Fuck. He’ll know he’s getting to me now.
Pater runs a hand irritably over his face before he chuckles. “I don’t know why you think you have a say in the matter. Now, either you pick, or I will.”
I let out an unhappy sigh as I turn and begin to walk back toward his bedroom. He knows that, given the choice, I’ll always place myself in harm’s way to spare them.
“Not so fast,” he says, in a tone that stops me in my tracks.
I don’t turn to face him immediately because I’m worried about what it is he wants before he subjects me to the level of correction he feels I deserve for talking back to him. For standing my ground against a tyrant and exercising a basic human right that I was stripped of the moment I willingly walked through his door, because I agreed to be less than human. I agreed to be this empty marionette to do his will and now, after all this time, I find myself rejecting the idea, even though it’s too damn late.
“Yes, Pater?” I ask quietly as I finally turn my body toward the wall. It still can be seen as an act of defiance because I’m not facing him completely, but it’s enough of a submission that he won’t add anything extra to the punishment he’s ready to bestow upon me.
“I want you to do a few things for me before I do a few things to you,” he says, a wicked smile starting to spread across his lips.
“Yes, Pater?” I inquire again curiously. This isn’t normally how he does these things, and the worry that has washed over me is being overshadowed with doubt and wonder.
“Let’s call this little game A List of Tasks. For each task you complete, I’ll go a little easier on you tonight. Of course, if you complete them all, you’re still going to be punished, but not as severely. Questions?” he asks.
I don’t respond. Not verbally, because I’ve already talked myself into enough shit to have to add more to drown in. Instead, I shake my head and nervously begin to wring my hands while I wait for his first task.