Inflict: A Novel

Chapter One

"Daidí!"

All five-years of Connor O'Neil stumbled over his own steps as he tried to yank on the rubber boots and run at the same time, down the hallway toward his dad's office.

"Stopped raining, it did! Can I go outside now?"

Rolling over to his back, Connor pulled the rubber boot on properly and turned back to his knees. Pushing his arse back up off the floor, he ran the rest of the way to the office without stumbling once.

His dad always said he was too excitable.

That he had no patience.

And he should watch more and not shout as often.

Because people who spoke less, heard more.

Connor didn't even understand what those things meant.

"Daidí!" he shouted at the office doors.

He wasn't supposed to just barge right in, if the doors were closed, but it'd been raining for a week, and he was what his father liked to call a sickling. He didn't know what that meant, either, but when too much wind blew into his ears, they ached. And if he got too wet by rain, he was coughing awfully terrible the next day.

Not today, though.

The rain had stopped.

He wanted to play.

Usually Lela—his father's maid—would take him out, but he couldn't even find her.

Grabbing the doorknob in his wee hand, Connor turned the latch and pushed the door open, barreling into his dad's office.

He found the maid.

And his father.

Connor blinked, taking in the odd scene he was seeing.

Something five-year-old lads didn't know.

On her knees in front of his father was the maid, her mouth open, and his father's prick sliding in between her lips.

Even in his head, Connor whispered that word—prick.

He wasn't supposed to say it, that's what the maid said.

His father—Sean—had a handful of the maid's hair and looked to be pulling it fiercely. Like it must have been hurting her, but Connor didn't know.

Connor knew he'd done wrong barging into the office without knocking, but he'd shouted.

He'd shouted.

So, he couldn't be in trouble for this.

His father always said he was too loud, so how come he didn't hear?

He always heard everything else Connor did.

He'd whip him hard with a belt for being too loud.

Connor didn't want to get whipped, and he didn't want to have to pick a switch, either. So, he stepped back, grabbing the doorknob and pulling the door shut behind him.

But before the door closed completely, he glanced back in, curious and heavy in his tummy. The first thing he realized, was that his father had noticed him.

Sean was looking straight at him, quiet and smiling.

It wasn't a nice smile.

Connor wanted to shut the door, but he couldn't move. He couldn't move because the second thing he realized was no, the maid was not enjoying what she was doing, and she was in pain. Because his father's other hand was around her throat.