And Blue Skies From Pain by Stina Leicht Read Free Book Online

now.”
    “He does have a point,” Father Murray said.
    Father Conroy frowned. “Records can be falsified.”
    “Why the fuck would a prison surgeon go to the trouble?” Liam asked.
    Father Murray shot him a stern glance, and Liam once more reminded himself to keep his temper in check.
    “Father Conroy is due respect,” Father Murray whispered. “He has done nothing to warrant—”
    “I know. I know. Sorry, Father.” Liam left it up to interpretation as for which priest the apology was intended.
    Father Conroy spoke to Father Murray again. “I must have the data before we begin.”
    “Begin what, exactly?” Liam asked.
    Father Conroy blinked. “The process of verifying the truth, of course.”
    “And what truth is that?” Liam asked.
    “Liam, please. This is why we’re here,” Father Murray said, pushing his horn-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose.
    Again taking in the medical tray with its store of needles, surgical knives and bandages, Liam said, “I didn’t agree to being cut up like a wee lab rat.”
    “That isn’t the plan,” Father Murray said. “Why would you think such a thing?”
    “Oh, I don’t know. This is only a medical exam at the hands of a priest who calls himself an ‘Inquisitor.’ A man, I might add, who has more than a few scalpels at hand,” Liam said, allowing his anger to seep out in sarcasm. “Why should I anticipate a problem?”
    “I must collect samples,” Father Conroy said in a mild tone.
    Liam bolted off the examination table and set his back to the farthest wall. He then gave the Inquisitor the two fingers. “Sample this.”
    “Liam, calm yourself. This is for the peace agreement,” Father Murray said, his voice acquiring the all-too-familiar tone seemingly reserved for frightened children and out-of-control idiots.
    “I won’t be cut up. Not even for the peace.” Scanning the white cinderblock walls, Liam realized the examination room lacked everyday objects one might normally find in a doctor’s office—charts, cabinets, photos of family. It occurred to Liam that the room also lacked anything that might be used in defense. There’s always a scalpel. If I can get to one of the fucking things before he does. A surge of panic tensed his muscles. And the chair. There’s the chair.
    “I’m prepared to drug it—I mean, him.” Father Conroy corrected himself when Father Murray opened his mouth to protest. Reaching for his tray, Father Conroy picked up a pre-prepared syringe loaded with a clear substance.
    Liam scanned the room for an escape route. They were underground. There were no windows and only the one door. “I’ll not let you near me with that—”
    “Security can restrain the creature if necessary while I drug it,” the Inquisitor said, moving toward the phone.
    Father Murray said, “There’s no need.”
    “Don’t call me a fucking creature. I’m Liam Kelly. You’d think you could read that off your fucking charts.”
    “Liam, this isn’t what you think,” Father Murray said.
    “Why did I let you talk me into this?” Liam edged to the door with his heart slamming in his ears and his stomach rolling. The door lock was a standard deadbolt. He might be able to force it open with a couple of kicks. The idea of throwing his shoulder against it made him wince, but left with no other choice he’d risk re-breaking his collarbone. Unfortunately, the complex was well designed as far as security went. Located underneath a Catholic Church-owned building near Queen’s University, the examination room was secure. The only access to the surface was through an elevator guarded by surveillance cameras and manned by armed and combat-trained priests.
    Aye. And no one above can hear the screaming from here, either. Awful convenient, that, when you think about it. Liam felt his chest constrict. It became hard to breathe.
    Father Murray said, “You’re safe here.”
    “Are you mental?” Can’t defend myself, Liam thought. Can’t