Pumpkin Eater by Jeffrey Round

Author:Jeffrey Round [Round, Jeffrey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781459708174
Amazon: 1459708172
Barnesnoble: 1459708172
Publisher: Dundurn
Published: 2014-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

The curtains blew freely back and forth. Dan was stuck in a small, cramped space, waiting for someone. Outside, the rain ran down the window in slow, steady streams. Burgundy drapes reflected the colour of blood. The walls were every shade of black.

A candle flame appeared in the doorway, making his heart leap. Terror gripped him. Had he been bad again? He hid behind the altar to let whoever it was go by. Footsteps approached and stopped. Someone sniffed the air, as though sensing a presence. He peeked around the corner, surprised to see Jags Rohmer in a priest’s robe.

Jags moved past without seeing him. He was about to leave when a second figure appeared. It was Darryl Hillary. So he wasn’t dead after all. Dan sensed something stirring in his consciousness. He guessed he was dreaming, but he couldn’t wake himself.

He started at a noise behind him just as someone grabbed his arms and pinned him against the wall. He struggled to resist the offending lips on his face, the fingers on his body tearing at his clothes. He was thrown onto the floor of the altar, the marble cold against his face. The attacker lowered himself onto Dan’s body, forcing his legs open. Dan felt the searing pain, the agony of violation. The more he protested, the more urgent the other’s actions became as a hot poker raked his insides.

Dan twisted his torso around to get a glimpse of his abuser, but the man’s face was obscured by a hood. He opened his mouth to scream and his attacker forced something between his teeth. A wafer. Dan was choking on the body of Christ.

The man pounded into him, crushing him with his weight and forcing himself deep inside. Dan could barely stand the pain. An arm slipped free. His hand groped in a pocket and pulled out a Swiss Army knife. He reached up and deftly sliced off the man’s left ear.

His attacker screamed and leapt up. Dan watched the chief of police lurch frenziedly from the room. He struggled to his feet, squeezing himself into the darkness behind the altar while wiping saliva from his lips. He felt blood dripping, dripping on his hand.

He opened his eyes. He was sprawled on the living room couch. Ralph was licking his fingers and watching him with concern. Dan felt a wave of nausea and raced to the bathroom. He heaved and flushed, but it was only getting worse. He’d just managed to sit when a stream of burning liquid shot from his bowels. Hot poker indeed. That was the last time he’d buy souvlaki from a street vendor.

When the deluge was over, Dan got up and washed his face. He was grateful he was alone. Trevor would be compassionate, but Ked might worry he was drinking again. He groped his way downstairs. Coffee would help clear the cobwebs from his mind, but the cupboard was bare. He’d run out yesterday. Of course Trevor would have replaced it by now.

It was just past 3:00 a.

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