Chapter 28

The greeting died on Brooker’s lips as concern darkened his tawny eyes. His gaze flickered to Mary, who turned back to see the perspiration beading on Jesse’s forehead, the way all the color had suddenly leeched from his skin.

“Are you all right?” she asked. She stepped forward and took his arm without waiting for an answer, her grip surprisingly strong as she guided him into a pew. “Put your head between your knees. You look like you’re going to be sick.”

He was going to be sick. Please, no, not here. Not here. Please.But his silent prayer evaporated as the first wave of images crashed over him.

red toolbox

darkness

red blood

whip knife

red in his eyes

red on Marcus’s shirt on the back of his shirt how did it get there

red dripping down his thighs.

But it was the pain tearing through him that made him whimper. Pain slicing down his back and through his stomach. He clenched his hands into tight fists and squeezed his eyes shut, assaulted again and again.