Chapter 5 - Big Rotten Apple
"I'm sorry."
I stood, shifting on my feet and taking a deep breath. I had worked up a cold sweat the entire way to the apartment.
"I don't expect you to forgive me right away, or at all for that matter. I know that what I did was wrong. It was selfish and reckless. I just wanted to tell you that it will never happen again, and I hope you still want to be partners."
The door didn't answer, of course. I must've gone through a hundred different ways to apologize on the entire walk to the apartment. It resulted in a few curious glances and odd stares from pedestrians. When I arrived, I immediately wanted to turn around and start all over again. The last grain of sand had fallen, and it was time for the real deal.
I raised my hand to knock on the door, but the knob was already turning. Matthew stood, emotionless as he leaned against the doorway. Again, I sucked in as much air as I could and prepared myself.
"I'm-"
"Sorry?"
I nodded. "It was-"
"Selfish and reckless? It will never happen again?" He crossed his arms. Suddenly, an amused smirk crept onto his lips for a brief moment before fading into a more firm expression.
"Yes. And I hope that we're still partners."
He was quiet and stood almost motionless. It seemed time had literally slowed. I was starting to crack under the weight of tension in the air.
"Is... is Mr. Henry okay?" I asked.
"As far as I know, he'll be alright."
Again he resumed his silent stance.
I let out a breath and shoved my hands into my pockets.
"So... do you think you could ever forgive me?"
After what felt like ages, he gave a small smile and uncrossed his arms, holding out his hand.
"I forgive you."
To say I was shocked was an understatement. I was almost ready to get on my knees and beg. Almost.
I shook his hand and then held out my arms.
"Come on, bring it in," I said.
He chuckled before stepping back to let me inside. I stayed right where I was.
"Matto, you know you want to."
"Maryn, it's fine."
"Oh, come here, you beautiful bastard." I pulled him into a squeeze before placing a kiss on his cheek. He tensed up, but returned a gentle pat.
"Now, let's talk about how thin these walls are." I gave him a friendly smack on the back and walked inside. I flopped down on the couch and rested my feet on the ottoman. Matthew pulled together some papers from the dining table and took a seat across from me.
"We have another assignment."
"Really? Give me the details," I said, leaning forward.
"A woman named Alice Carlisle has supposedly been experiencing demonic activity in her home for the past four years. She said she contacted a priest years ago to bless her home, but the demon has been lying dormant. Now, things have progressed, and she claims she's waking up with scratches and bruises."
"You had me at demonic. When do we leave?"
"Tomorrow afternoon. We need to be at the airport by 9:30am."
Matthew set down the stack of papers. I eyed them briefly, noting the photos Alice provided of her bruises.
"Airport, huh? Where are we going?"
"New York City."
"The Big Apple? Count me in!"
Matthew raised an eyebrow.
"We're there strictly for business."
"Yeah yeah, totally got it. Just business," I said, nodding my head. Matthew eyed me more intensely.
"And maybe a teeny bit of pleasure."
Matthew rolled his eyes before pointing a finger at one of the photos.
"There's something I want you to see."
I took a closer look, and noticed a scar shaped like the letter "c" on the woman's wrist. My heart fell like an elevator, and I suddenly felt the need to puke. Images from years ago started to flash in my head.
"I remember... Julia had that on her stomach." I mumbled.
"And Mr. Henry had it on his neck. I noticed it before they wheeled him out. We're on the right track, but I also wanted you to consider something."
"What?" I said, looking up. The world seemed fuzzy and dull.
"What if Caranneth is trying to lure you into a trap? He didn't seem particularly intent on killing you when he had possession of Mr. Henry."
"Well, I don't see another option. He's proven to be difficult to track down."
"If you're sure."
I shot up from my seat and cracked my knuckles.
"Alright, I'm ready. We'll talk about it more tomorrow. Let's just take down this fucker."
I was already halfway down the hall when Matthew called out. I spun around, looking at him expectantly. He held up the rosary around his neck and raised an eyebrow.
"Do we have to?" I asked, my face contorting into a grimace.
Matthew didn't say a word. He only gave a small grin as he walked past me down the hall and to his room.
~~~~~~
It was like looking at the world from below the water's surface. Everything had a gentle ripple, and I felt as though I couldn't breathe. I let my head fall between my knees as I struggled with each inhalation. The footsteps that approached pounded and echoed, as if they were pacing around a large empty room.
"Oh, it's you," said a bitter voice.
I looked up to see the priest that was at the exorcism a few weeks ago. He looked down at me with his lips curled in disgust.
"Always a pleasure, Father," I said sarcastically.
"So you've finally decided to attend the services?"
I let out a weak laugh. My head was bobbing around, and I attempted to keep it still and propped it up in my hand.
The old man's obvious displeasure in seeing me grew. He took a step back and held his rosary close to his chest.
"If you're going to throw up, I'd ask that you do it away from the cathedral."
"Will do, sir."
He continued up the steps leading to the Cathedral of St. Mary. I gave him the finger before attempting to stand. I stumbled like an alcoholic, and an arm grabbed me before I tumbled down.
"You okay?" Asked Matthew.
"I'm fine. I just really hate that guy."
Matthew chuckled. "Is it getting any easier? Waiting out here?"
I shook my head and we descended the steps. As I got further away from the church, my energy started to perk up.
"You know, I would absolutely love to see the look on that priest's face if he found out you're friends with a demon," I said.
"Well, it'd certainly be something. Though I think I'd be more curious to his reaction if he even found out that you are a demon."
"Maybe someday," I chuckled.
As soon as we got to the car, Matthew pulled out the vial of blessed water from the church and popped the trunk. I opened the briefcase with my gun and knives, and he proceeded to pour the water on the weapons, all the while saying a few prayers.
"Alright, give it a test."
I picked up the gun and let my hand adjust to the slight burning sensation before moving it to the other hand. The first time we did this, I couldn't even hold the gun for more than a few seconds before having to set it down.
I repeated the process with the knives and then gave Matthew a nod.
I closed up the briefcase and slammed down the trunk. I studied the burn from the rosary that still wrapped around my hand. It had significantly faded since the incident. My fingers pressed lightly on the scars, and I was surprised by the lack of pain.
"Ready to go?" Matthew asked, waiting by the driver's side door.
I looked back at the church. My gaze lingered, and Matthew noticed. But he didn't say anything, and I nodded my head.
"Let's do this."
~~~~~~
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