Page 82 of Saving Sparrow (Slow Burns & Tragic Beginnings #2)

Now

We spent the whole day reading and kissing in bed.

Sparrow even shirked his laundry and cleaning duties.

I tried talking him into moving the following day’s festivities to the bedroom, but he said it would ruin his “big surprise.” He wouldn’t cave—not to the move or my plea to know what he had planned—not even when I tried tickling hints out of him.

When we were hungry, he brought us food, and we exchanged literary opinions on Shakespeare while he fed me. When I shivered, he added more wood to the fire, and when I yawned, he held me until I fell asleep. Sparrow was kind and attentive, and I fell harder with each passing hour.

I knew something was wrong when I woke up alone. A sinking feeling filled my stomach as the last of the embers died out in the hearth. He’d left without stoking the fire.

I couldn’t find him anywhere. I even searched the part of the house that frightened me most, where not even Sparrow ventured to.

Grabbing the spare key, I checked all the other bedrooms. Well, except for the last one. Someone was in there. I could feel them. I just didn’t know who.

I slipped the key into the lock, pausing when the hall lights flickered. I ignored the rapid beating of my heart and slipped inside.

A Bible lay open on the bed, and crucifixes lined the black walls. Light shone beneath the closet door, low grunts coming from within. I crept over to it, opening it slowly.

Inside, a man knelt, sweaty and naked, flogging himself in front of an altar, his hair braided into a crown atop his head. I gripped the doorframe in shock. The leather tails cracked against his back, leaving welts behind. He worked with determination, biting out scriptures between each blow.

“‘ Purify me and I shall be clean …’”

Lash…

“‘ Wash me and I shall be whiter than snow …’”

Lash…

“‘ Don’t cast me from your presence …’”

Lash…

“‘ Or … Or t-take your Holy Spirit from me …’”

Lash…

The last strike broke skin, but he took it stoically.

“S-stop!”

He paused with an eerie calm, keeping his scarred back to me. His shoulders rose and fell as he kept his gaze fixed on the altar. “What name do you go by, demon?”

“W-what?”

“I said, what is your name, demon!” He thought I was an entity.

“My name is Miguel. Please stop hurting yourself.”

“Miguel,” he mused, blood seeping from the wound. “He who has sent you shall not prosper, not while in the house of the Lord. I rebuke you, demon. I rebuke you… I rebuke you to the pits of hell!”

“I’m not a demon. I’m your husband.” I stepped inside, desperate to stop the bleeding. He stood and turned in one fluid motion. His eyes were like glaciers, hard and cold. If anyone was the demon, it was him.

He stepped over his discarded vestment, stalking me into the bedroom. The whip creaked in his fist, cum stained his rigid stomach.

“Why are you here, sinner?”

“I-I’m not a sinner.”

“We are all sinners, infidel!” He laughed, the dark sound raising the hair along my arms. “The enemy has delivered my greatest weakness, down to the simpering brown eyes. But evil shall not prevail. I shall cast it out.”

I circled the bed, tripping into the sitting area. He prowled closer.

“Repent here and now. Feel His glorious mercy.”

My tongue felt heavy, preventing speech.

“One John chapter one, verse eight, ‘ If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us .’ Romans chapter three, verse twenty-three, ‘ For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God .’ James four, verse seventeen, ‘ If anyone, then, knows the good they ought to do and doesn’t do it, it is sin for them .’” He recited scripture after scripture, foaming at the mouth.

“Speak these words, and you too shall be free. Ask for His forgiveness and strength, and you shall receive.”

I’d backed myself into a corner, pain and anger consuming me. “I don’t believe in God.”

“Blasphemy!”

“God wouldn’t do this to you! He wouldn’t do this to us !” I reached for him, for any of the others. “ Please , come back to me.”

His nostrils flared, cock swelling, and the flogging resumed.

“Thou who dare tempt me shall face His persecution. Thou who lures me with sins of the flesh shall have thy skin stripped from bone. You are the harbinger of evil, demon, sent straight from the depths of hell. My faith will be tested, but under the Lord’s watchful eye, I shall triumph. ”

“Don’t!” I begged, flinching when the next strike landed.

“I am Abraham, loyal servant of God. ‘ Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord .’ You will not keep me from His glory, demon. I will not join my flesh with yours. I will not impart my seed upon you. I will not allow you to lead my righteous soul astray.”

I panted against the wall as he ranted with wide eyes, my own eyes stinging with tears. Where was Sparrow? Why wasn’t he back? He should’ve felt Abraham’s hysteria, should’ve stepped in by now.

I had to leave. To help Abraham… I have to leave.

He continued his spiritual diatribe, gaze unseeing now. His body convulsed as his orgasm tore through him, and the whip sought its pound of flesh. I ran for the hall, backing down it after locking Abraham inside.

Sparrow arrived almost an hour later, movements stiff. “You’re awake.” We watched each other through the window’s reflection. I hadn’t moved from here since leaving Abraham. My heart hadn’t stopped aching since leaving him either.

“I woke up, and you were gone.”

He approached cautiously. “How long have you been up?”

“Not long. Where did you go?”

“I woke up sweaty from a nightmare. I took a shower downstairs so I wouldn’t wake you up.”

I let my gaze roam over the dark, dreary landscape outside, anything to avoid his facial cues of pain.

There were levels to Sparrow’s exhaustion, I realized.

There was the exhaustion that came from trying to hold off a switch.

His eyes were always more tired then, and the bruises beneath them stark, sometimes frightening.

He tended to look marginally better after giving in, his weariness then becoming more about his body needing rest rather than his mind.

Tonight, his fatigue seemed pain-related more than anything. How long had Abraham wanted out?

“How do you know when a specific alter wants to… come out?”

“That’s an odd question for this time of night. Wouldn’t you rather go back to bed?”

“Humor me first.”

Sparrow’s silence almost tempted me to look up, but I kept my gaze on the snow, not ready to meet his physical pain again. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Try,” I whispered. “Please try.” I could’ve sworn I heard him swallow.

“There are internal cues, subtle shifts in mood that dictate who wants to front.”

“Can you hold them back?”

“Yes, but eventually they become more persistent. Holding them back on top of managing everything and everyone within the system can be…”

“Exhausting,” I said when he didn’t. “You once said you recorded the alters.”

“I did. Where is this—”

“You studied them, tailored their environments to satisfy their needs. That way they remain content in their prisons.” And if at any time they did want out, their anxiety triggered his return.

Sparrow eased me around by my shoulder, and I closed my eyes, still not ready to meet his. “Look at me. Please,” he breathed. I could never resist his politeness. “Why are you saying all this?” He looked like he needed to be comforted.

“It’s nothing. Just thinking about things while I waited for you to come back.” I kissed him, resting my hands on his hips. I’d avoided his back, but he winced anyway. What else had Abraham done to him?

“What’s wrong?” I tried to keep my emotions off my face.

“I slipped getting out of the shower. Hurt my back and my hip.”

“Let me see it.”

“It’s nothing serious, just some bruising.”

“I want to see it anyway.” I stepped around him, lifting his shirt.

“I said it’s not serious!” He spun away, hissing in pain, but not before I spotted the bandages.

“I’ve seen you in pain like this before.

” My mind flashed to us having breakfast together for the first time.

“You rejected my concern then, too.” I also thought back to the early days of my being here, of smelling arnica on him.

He smelled like it now, like the balm Quentin used on Elliott to reduce bruising and swelling after a spanking.

“It may be a rare occurrence for you to get hurt, but getting hurt is all I know. I don’t need you to make a big deal out of it.” He played on my compassion, hoping the reminder of all he’d been through would get me to let it go. It would’ve worked had I not met Abraham.

“Who’s the occasional visitor you once mentioned? And why do you call them that?”

“That’s none of—”

“I don’t think there is such a thing as an occasional visitor.

There may be alters who front more than others, alters who you fight less than others, but they’re all a part of the system.

” I took a wild guess that Sparrow didn’t like Abraham and that he was likely the main contributing factor for Sparrow’s constant exhaustion.

It couldn’t be easy holding him back, couldn’t be easy living with the physical pain Abraham caused him.

“Are you the expert on the system now, Miguel?” His sarcastic tone was meant to dissuade me, to make me less confident in my assessment.

“No, I’m not. But I know you can’t keep living like this, Sparrow.”

“What do you mean? There’s nothing wrong with the way we’re living. We’re safe here.” He’d said “ we’re ” with emphasis. Either as a reminder that I was his captive, or in denial about where we were headed. Maybe both. “Miguel?” He’d paled at my silence.

“How close is the system to another break?”

“It’s fine. What happened before won’t happen again.”

“What exactly happened before?” I knew a lot, but there were still so many gaps. Sparrow stepped away. “You didn’t hurt your back getting out of the shower, did you?”

“I told you—”

“You lied to—”

“I slipped while—”

“I saw what Abraham did to you!” Everything around us went still. The fire I’d reignited in the hearth, the wind outside, even the sound of our breathing. “I saw,” I whispered.

“H-how?”

“I…” I stared into his bleary eyes, taking a mental snapshot of the affection in them before it was gone.

“Did I… Did I forget to lock the door?”

“No,” I swallowed. “I found a spare key in the attic. I’ve been in all the rooms. I’ve seen everything. I’ve met everyone. Even The Good One.”

“The Good One?”

“The mother who’d do anything to protect her child. The mother Elliott should’ve had.”

Betrayal flashed in his gaze before it went vacant. “Give it to me.”

“Not until you tell me why. Why would you help him hurt you? Haven’t you been hurt enough?” How could he provide Abraham with the means to cause him pain?

“It’s not my fault he’s here,” he snapped. “He just showed up out of nowhere, and now I’m stuck with managing him.”

“Don’t they all show up out of nowhere?” I knew they appeared for a reason, but at least initially, their arrival had to seem sudden.

“He’s different.”

“How?” I asked, but he refused to answer. “Are you saying he’s new? Are you saying he showed up after Elliott went dormant?”

Sparrow kept quiet. He’d iced me out.

“He did, didn’t he? How’s that possible? Please, tell me.”

“I said, give me the key.”

“No. Why does The Good One want to cut me to pieces? Why does Joshua believe his parents— your parents—are in the basement? What happened that day? How did you get away with it? How have you been surviving here?!” Everything I wanted to know came spilling out of me.

“Give. Me. The Key.”

“Promise you’ll give me answers if I do. Promise you’ll let me help you. I’m begging you.”

“I don’t need your help.” He backed me into the window, the cold draft threading around my neck. “We would’ve been fine. Everything was fine until you went and screwed it up!”

“Fine? Did you think I wouldn’t find out about him?

That we could stay here forever, and I’d never know, never see what happens to you when you enter those rooms?

How long will it be before you can’t contain it?

How long before you start shifting into something dangerous, leaving me to figure out what to do with them, huh?

What am I supposed to do with them, Sparrow?

Be flogged, crucified, or shot? Talk Joshua down from a temper tantrum?

It’s not realistic; it’s not safe for any of us!

” My guilt made me frantic because I was to blame for part of his delusion.

I’d allowed him to believe we could be happy like this.

I hadn’t said it, but I didn’t need to. It was in every touch we shared as we slept in his workout room.

In every kiss over the last two days. It was in the details of every second I’d spent falling for the man who looked like my husband.

“Our minds are strong, Sparrow. But they can break if they’re not properly cared for. How much longer do you think you can do this?”

“I’m fi—”

“Stop saying that,” I hissed. “You didn’t come back. Abraham was hurting you. I was in there with him. He thought I was a demon… And you didn’t come back. Why?”

“Because he doesn’t fear pain, he relishes it!”

Sparrow picked up on their anxiety, on the quickening of their pulse due to fear or pain. Abraham lived in a state of exhilaration. He was in his element. He welcomed the opportunity to cast out evil.

“All the more reason to get away from here.”

Sparrow was an impenetrable force, his guards pushing against me.

“You won’t leave this place, will you?” I felt drained, defeated.

“Leave here? Why don’t you say what you really mean?”

“What do you think I mean, Sparrow?” I cupped his cheeks, ignoring the low warning rumble in his chest. “What do you hear when I speak to you?” I held tight when he tried to pull away. “Tell me.”

“You want me gone,” he whispered.

“No. I want you better.”

“Aren’t they the same thing?”

“No, because if it were up to me, I’d have all of you. I love all of you, Sparrow, because you are all worthy of goodness and love. But I’ll always want what’s best for you first . ” Even though I’d lost sight of that in recent weeks. “You aren’t well. Please let me help you.”

“Or else?”

“Or else I’ll have to leave you behind.”