“I know it’s good, but I didn’t think it was that good.” Adams' voice pulls my attention back up to the men. Both who are staring at me, causing my cheeks to flush with heat. I dart my eyes over to Kameron, who stares back at me with a knowing look. For a moment, I see his grief take center stage behind his eyes, but as quickly as it appeared, it's gone.
“I told you my mom was a good cook.” Kameron says, smirking at me lightly from his seat. I smile at him from across the table, before taking another bite.She had to have been a damn good cook.
Chapter Seven
The popcorn ceiling stares back at me from my place on the couch. I made my way out here after spending the last few hours begging my brain to shut off long enough for me to sleep. Memories of my mother took over after dinner. The grief was too much to bare. Stir fry was always her favorite.“Quick, healthy, and full of love. All my favorite things.”Her voice replays in my head.“Minus you and dad of course.”I can see her cheesy wink every time I close my eyes.
Their memory has always haunted me, waiting right behind every closed door, becoming the monster under the bed. It’s my own personal shadow, following me no matter how fast I run from it. But seeing Lilith, and the love in her eyes, the love that would’ve had my mother squealing with excitement, broke the door of the mental safe I keep the memories tucked away in. The grief has entangled with every vein twisting through my body. I mourn for the man I could’ve been, one that might have been worthy of Lilith’s love.
I could see us, on a Sunday morning. The smell of hot coffee brewing through the air as we get dressed in our Sunday best. Lilith’s light giggles filtering through the air as she helps me knot my tie. I can feel the warm embrace of my parents as we meet them outside of our church. The soft and tender touch of my mother’s aging hands against my cheek.I memorize her wrinkles and the stray gray hairs dusting over her dark brown curls, even if it’s only my imagination.
“You weren’t supposed to leave me,” I whisper, feeling the burning ache of a sob building behind my teeth. My knuckles turn white as I clench and unclench my hands. The grief consuming me swiftly turning into rage.This isn’t who I was supposed to be.
My lungs expand with each shallow breath, the ceiling above me growing dimmer each time I exhale. “Kameron…?” Lilith’s soft voice barely registers as I slip in and out of consciousness.
“Please- go,” I mumble out, nausea causing my stomach to somersault. The flashback begs to take hold. “I can’t hurt you again.” The couch dips from the pressure of her sitting next to me. My heart races, terrified of what could happen. “Please,” I try again, slurring my words.
“I can’t leave you, Kameron.”
Kameron- age fifteen
I watch from the top of the staircase as Apollyon paces the foyer. His anger rumbles through his chest before it spews into whoever is on the other line. The all black suit does nothing but add to the menacing aura surrounding him. “The boy has proven he is a sinner. He isn’t the one. We need someone pure, someone who-”.
I completely freeze as Apollyon goes quiet. His body slowly turns towards me, a sinister grin masking his face. He brings his pointer finger up to his lip, pondering, while I continue to stare at him like a deer in headlights. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t meaning to intrude,” I stutter out, slowly backing up the stairs. He continues to watch me, glaring up at me like an animal ready to feast on its prey.
“I will bring him this weekend,” he states calmly, before slapping his flip phone shut, stuffing it into his suit pocket. Apollyon stays completely frozen, watching me. The stale bread I had for dinner rises up my throat, mixing with my stomach acid. Terror continues to push me up the stairs until I’m out of his sight. Only then can I finally rationalize what I just heard.
He’s taking me somewhere, and it can’t be better than this. No, Apollyon would only drag me further into the pits of hell. I stagger my way back into my bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind me. With what little faith I still carry, I find myself kneeling down next to my bed. The sheets are stained from blood and piss but I can only hope my situation will convinceGod to listen to my prayers. “Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed are thou thy women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.”
The prayer tumbles out of my mouth with desperate need. I need to be saved, I can’t continue through this torture. It’s too much for anyone, let alone a grieving boy who lost both of his parents barely a year ago. My folded hands shake against the fabric as I listen for the sound of impending footsteps. Moments that feel like lifetimes pass by as I wait, yet nothing comes. I’m not met by the hell of Apollyon’s wrath, nor am I saved by the God I grew up believing in.
I finally bring myself off of my knees, sitting on the cool wooden floor. The room is completely dark, the seclusion dragging the darkest memories out of me. I slowly stand and crawl over to the bed. Closing my eyes I imagine my mom and dad, following me in through the doorway, filling the room with light. They ask me about my day as my mother pulls back the covers. I slide in, listening to my dad promise another game of baseball this weekend. “I love you my sweet boy,” my mother coos down at me, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead.
“Goodnight, champ,” my father grins as he waits for my mother by the door. At this moment I am safe. I am loved. They watch over me as I begin to drift off to sleep.
Yet the peace never lasts. It all vanishes every morning. Every time I wake up in this nightmare.
Chapter Eight
“Shh, shh. You’re okay,” I whisper. I look down at Kameron’s pale face, watching as his eyes finally begin to fill with recognition again. I reach forward, gently catching his stray tears, as he sucks in one sharp breath after another.
“Did I hurt you?” He asks frantically.
“No Kameron, I’m okay.” Technically I’m not lying to him, physically I’m left untouched this time. But hearing him stuck in a loop, begging for his parents shattered something in me. Seeing him, this lethal killer, thismonster,break with such intimacy has completely rattled me. For the last eight years I was trained to believe that if Satan was to walk on Earth, it would be in the form of Kameron Lethki. How can the evil who killed my brother for his own benefit make me feel so deeply?
His fingers rise to graze the side of my hands, strolling up and down my thumbs which are still placed against his face. The muscles in his face begin to relax and his eyes search mine for understanding.Thank you, Lilith.The silent gratitude travels between us as he holds my palms in his. “Will you stay with me?”
My heart skips a beat at his request. I internally fight with myself to say no, to tell him goodnight and go back to my room. But instead, I find myself placing my cheek against his chest. His warmth radiates through me, his heartbeat echoing into my ear.
“Thank you.” His voice comes out soft as his hands begin to drift over my curves. “I didn’t want to be alone anymore.”
I turn my head to look up at him, his beautiful brown eyes already staring down at me. My stomach flutters as I take a moment to really study him. The moonlight catches against the lightest shades in his eyes, making the dark colors sink deeper in.A little world full of Mariana Trenches. He is so beautiful and I can’t help the subtle nudge as I press myself harder into his thigh. I bite onto the inside of my cheek waiting for a reaction, but he continues to stare at me, slowly tickling up and down mythigh. “You terrify me.” The words slip out of my mouth before I realize what I’m saying.
“Why is that, Lilith?” Kameron’s eyebrows draw together, but the pads of his fingers continue to roam me, causing heat to pull in between my thighs. A soft whimper leaves me as he slowly pulls at the waistband of my sweats.
“Because you’re a monster, yet somehow the only place I’ve felt truly safe in so long.” I close my eyes, pushing myself against him once again. The ache is almost unbearable. My body craves him like it craves air. Desperate for more, I grab onto his wrist, beckoning him back to the place between my thighs.
He finally dips below the elastic band of my pants, gliding his fingers against my folds. My thin underwear, now growing damp, is the only barrier between me and what I so badly crave. The pressure he applies leaves me delirious as he continues on with the conversation. “Why do you think I’m a monster?”
