Page 111 of The Idol

My?

My what?

My son?

My burden?

My stain?

The strangers forced him back, slamming him to the dirt. He fought like a wild thing, teeth bared.

“You’ll burn for this!” he screamed at Daddy. “You’ll burn for turning him against me! I warned you!” Then his gaze cut back to me—sharp, vicious, condemning. “Andyou,” he hissed. “You will answer for this betrayal. God sees you. He sees what you’ve become. Nothing more than a filthy, demonic whore.”

Something inside me broke.

Completely.

I didn’t even have words anymore.

Only trembling. Only tears.

Only the horrible weight of Father’s hatred pressing down on me until I couldn’t breathe.

Daddy’s arms wrapped tighter around me, shielding me, turning my face into his chest. “Don’t listen to him,” he murmured, voice shaking with barely controlled rage. “Elior, look at me—look at me, cherub. You didn’t betray anyone. You didn’t do anything wrong. None of this is your fault.”

But Father’s words—even being dragged away, even muffled—echoed and echoed and echoed inside my skull.

“You Judas.”

“You Jezebel.”

“You back-stabbing whore.”

“Your very existence is a sin.”

I clutched at Daddy’s shirt with weak fingers, unable to stop myself from sobbing. “Daddy,” I choked. “Daddy—help me.”

“Always,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to mine. “I’m not letting anyone take you away from me. It’ll be okay. He won’t hurt you anymore. Never again.”

Daddy guided me away from the screaming, away from Father’s voice still cutting through the chaos like broken glass. My legs barely worked. I think the only reason I didn’t collapse was because he kept me upright with an arm around my waist.

“Elior,” Daddy murmured, trying to angle my body so he could see my face again. “Elior, I need you to look at—”

But instead of reaching for my cheek this time, his eyes dropped lower.

To my hands.

My fingers were curled in the fabric of his shirt, knuckles white, trembling uncontrollably. The skin on them was swollen, split in places, bruised in others—bloated purples and sick, furious reds. The cane had struck there over and over and over. I’d forgotten. That all seemed so far away now.

Daddy’s jaw tightened so hard the muscles jumped.

“What happened to your hands?”

I stared at them stupidly, like they belonged to someone else.

“Elior.” His voice dropped, lethal-soft. “Tell me.”

“F-Father…” I whispered.