by Rona Jameson
Rafael winces and glances above to where the bell rings against the wall. I turn and dash to class, hoping he doesn’t follow.
He does.
My desk is at the back of the classroom so I can hide. The teacher, Mr. Dickerson, ignores me during the lesson, which suits me just fine. I do my homework on time and I keep my grades up. He doesn’t have to put any effort into making sure the Reverend’s daughter is excelling. As I take my seat, I glance up and watch Rafael moving further into the room. My heart pounds as he gets closer and our eyes meet. He doesn’t release my gaze until he takes the seat beside me.
I slump down in my chair and feel heat creeping up my neck with all eyes going between him and me. It makes me extremely uncomfortable and I pray Mr. Dickerson arrives soon. I sense Rafael tense beside me and then I nearly jump out of my seat when he slams his fist on his desk, shaking the old wooden thing.
It works.
All eyes move from us to the front of the classroom, then we are saved from further gossip when the teacher walks in. He pauses briefly as his eyes scan over Rafael. I notice the moment he realizes Rafael is sitting next to me because his eyes widen and, he momentarily stills before he clears his throat.
“Rafael DeLacroix has joined us today for the rest of the school term,” Mr. Dickerson states. “Rafael.” He stares. “If you’d like to move to another desk, then do so now.”
Rafael slouches. “Am I in someone else’s seat?”
The others snicker.
Rafael glares around the room and Mr. Dickerson clears his throat again. “Rafael, I think you should move.”
“I’ll stay here.” Rafael’s fist clenches around the pen he’s been playing with until it snaps in half. He drops it to the desk and sits forward with his forearms resting on the wooden surface, his hands linking together. He never once breaks eye contact with Mr. Dickerson.
The teacher backs down first and goes to his desk. Seconds later, he writes our assignments on the whiteboard. He never lectures, just writes on the board what sections we have to read from our class textbook, along with the page numbers for the questions we have to answer.
Silence has never bothered me. Until now. Rafael copies what I’m doing and opens his textbook. When it’s time for questions, I offer him a pen. His tattooed hand wraps around the offered item and our eyes momentarily meet. I look away quickly and hunker down over my notebook.
“Why are you always alone?” Rafael whispers from the corner of his mouth as he writes in his notebook.
Not answering will be a problem for Rafael. I know this about him even though I don’t actually know him. He doesn’t appear to be the type to leave it alone when he wants to know something.
Sighing, I give him a sidelong glance. “The Reverend.” I swallow hard and notice his frown. “I can’t talk.”
“He hurt you the other morning?”
Startled, I turn my face to him unaware of how close he is. I’m so close I can see green mixed in with the brown of his eyes.
The bell rings and breaks the spell he’s cast over me. I shake my head. “Please, Rafael.” I quickly shove my things away and dart out of the classroom and straight into the girls’ bathroom.
I drop my books to the floor and turn the taps on, splashing my face with cold water. Having Rafael’s attention on me causes butterflies in my belly. It embarrasses me as well. I have no experience with boys, and having no friends, I have no one to ask about boys. The Reverend will lock me away forever if I ask him. Sadness comes over me when I really think about Rafael and how much I like him, if only I’m allowed. He won’t want to talk to me once he really discovers what the Reverend is like, and the hold he has over everyone in town. He won’t go anywhere near me.
Hurrying to get to my next class, I hope Rafael doesn’t sit next to me again, but luck has never really been on my side. I spend the rest of the school day trying to ignore him.
Walking home, my unlucky streak continues as Rafael catches up to me. He doesn’t say anything, just walks beside me. Every now and again, I feel his eyes on me, but I continue walking as I face straight ahead. My mouth is dry, so I grab my water bottle and take a drink. I notice Rafael watching me, so I do the polite thing and offer him some. He smiles, which takes my breath away. He is beautiful, and he has dimples.
He doesn’t bother to wipe around the bottle and just takes a few long swallows before he passes it back. “Thanks.” He pauses, and asks, “What happened to your arm?”
I frown and glance at him. “My arm?”
“I never meant to hurt you, I only wanted to stop you from running off. You gasped in pain when I grabbed you.”
Unconsciously, I rub where a large bruise covers my arm from the Reverend’s fingers.
“He did that.” Rafael tightens his jaw. “Did he do anything else?”
Again, my hand automatically reaches for my hip.
His eyes flash in anger. “He did,” Rafael growls. “Wren, you have to tell someone.”
I laugh. “You know who he is, right? He has the whole town brainwashed.”
“My father will help you.”
“No. I’ll be okay.”
“Wren—” He cuts off when I shake my head and slowly back away. Just in time too as the sun shines on the Reverend’s bright red car moving toward us.
“Please don’t say anything,” I whisper.
The car comes to a stop spewing dust and gravel up from the ground. The car shudders and the Reverend steps out, anger in every inch of his body.
Behind me, Rafael whispers, “Don’t go with him,” and he grabs the back of my shirt.
“Get in the car, Wren,” the Reverend growls, barely holding his temper, his eyes solely focus on Rafael. “Now!”
Knowing it’s a mistake on my part, I do it anyway. I turn and meet Rafael’s concerned gaze. “Let me go,” I mumble. “You’re making it worse.”
My words reach some part of his brain because he releases his hold, and whispers, “I’ll get my dad.”
I shake my head. “No.” Moving away from Rafael, I know I will be in big trouble once we get back to the house. It’s worth it, even though Rafael will probably never look in my direction again after tonight.
“You stay away from my daughter. She doesn’t need the likes of you corrupting her!” The Reverend yells at Rafael, who stands his ground. His bravery will annoy the Reverend even more. He loves the control he has over others, in fact, he relishes it. “Stay away if you know what’s good for you.” The Reverend slams into the car and takes off down the dusty road.
I tremble with nerves in the passenger seat. The car speeds down the road faster than ever before. The tires spin and the car slides as he takes the corner leading to the house.
My heart pounds and my pulse thuds in my ears at the red-hot anger dripping from the Reverend.
I’ve never feared him as much as I fear him now.
We slide to a stop beside the house in a cloud of dust. He climbs from the car, every bone in his body rigid with anger. He opens the passenger side door, and says between clenched teeth, “Get inside, Wren.”
I don’t need telling twice and scuttle out of the car and into the kitchen. The moment I enter, he’s behind me, removing my backpack. He takes my wrist and pulls me to the closed basement door. My heart is shattered with fear. He’s really going to lock me down there again. The basement is dark and scary, and the darkness terrifies me. At one time, there had been windows up high that allowed sunlight into the room. The Reverend had long since boarded them up. It has been my punishment for as long as I can remember.
The door creaks open and I’m faced with the steps down. The Reverend brings his face close to the side of my head, but I refuse to turn and look at him. He snarls, “You will never look or talk to that boy again. Do you hear me, Wren? Never! At school you do not sit next to him. You change seats if he sits with you. I know everything. Remember that.”
“Yes, sir.”
He wraps my hair in his fist so tightly
my eyes water. He tips my head backwards and hovers over me. His gaze makes me want to run or hurl. “You will not become like your mother. You will not consort with the devil.” His fist tightens and he tugs, drawing fresh tears from the pain. “I mean it. I will not allow you to become like her.”
He slowly untangles his hand and smooths my hair down my back. “You need to learn.” His large palm on my back pushes me forward. I stumble, catching myself with a hand on the cold wall. I want to run far away from here. One day, I promise myself. One day.
Clenching my jaw tightly, I slowly move forward. The stone wall is cold and bumpy under my hand but I’m too afraid to let go. The banister fell apart years ago, and the wooden stairs leading into the dark space below are worn.
I stand trembling—partly from nerves and partly from the cold. I desperately want to turn and tell him, “No!” but then I’ll never get out of the basement. If I do run today, I have nowhere to go.
I’m wrong.
Rafael will help me.
Swallowing hard, I shove Rafael from my mind as I stand in the basement. I catch hold of the pull string for the light, but nothing happens when I tug.
The Reverend chuckles. “The bulb’s still out.” I only have seconds to get my bearings before he slams the door and I hear it lock.
The bulb has been out since I turned nine, around the same time the windows were blocked off. The Reverend stomps around in the kitchen above me, and then, a few minutes later, the pipes gurgle with water. It took time but I eventually worked out that the pipes shudder and splutter when a toilet is flushed.
It’s cold down here regardless of the heat outside, and I shiver. There is no fight in me. The instant the door closes, the darkness pushes all of it away and all I feel is resignation. I’ve been down here many times in the past and I know I’ll be down here many times in the future.
My stomach growls as I move in the general direction of the small, metal bed frame. I’ve spent enough time down here to know I might as well sit down instead of stand. When there was still light, I had memorized every square inch of the place. Where the bed was, the pipes, the uneven patches on the floor. Once the Reverend took my sight in the basement, I spent days slowly counting out the confines of the space and where I could move safely. Moving to the bed was as automatic now as breathing. I never knew how long I’d be here, and this is no different.
The bed creaks as I put my weight down on it, and my nose twitches. An ozone-like tang from metal and cement reaches me. I haven’t smelled it before so I’m not sure where it’s coming from. The cold floor is cement, but there is no metal down here apart from the frame of the single bed. I can’t even see anything to look around.
The Reverend is good and mad this time.
In the dark, there is nothing for me to do, except be alone with my thoughts and fears. But my mind doesn’t drift to the darkest corners of the room. Instead, I think about Rafael and the real concern I’d seen in his gaze when he’d realized I’d been hurt. A strange emotion had run through me at his look. No one has ever been concerned for my welfare before, and having Rafael show me that concern gives me a funny feeling in my belly. There is something about the boy that has snared my attention from the first moment I’d laid eyes on him. I’d seen the girls watching him from beneath their brows today at school. I might like to keep to myself, but I notice everything. Not much gets past me. The things I’ve observed would upset a few people in town—those who are supposed to be clean and pure—little did the Reverend know.
Rafael though, he’s different.
Different?
Something had been different when the Reverend had opened the door to the basement. I’d quickly glanced around and saw…a door! I’d seen a door. It was dark wood with a silver lock. Why on earth would there be a door in our basement. That made no sense. There was nothing on that far side but earth. I mean, this is a basement, so it’s underground. The rest of the place is surrounded by earth.
If I wasn’t so scared of what else might be down here with me, I might risk checking out this new piece of my prison. I’m not sure what the longest is I’ve spent in here, but the only thing that has sent me off this bed is when it’s felt like an eternity and I needed to move or go crazy.
I try to focus on that energy, but I can’t. My mind has been distracted and I’m not stir crazy enough to test the darkness. I stare blindly in the direction of where I’d seen the door, but I can’t hear anything. Just the grumblings of the old house. I push myself to stand up but my legs tremble so hard I don’t think I’ll be able to walk. What if there’s something scary and I am locked in here with it?
Wren! You’re scaring yourself.
My conscience doesn’t force me forward to explore this new part of my prison, and I collapse back on the bed where I huddle and wait.
11
RAFAEL
“DAD, we need to go next door,” I demand the moment I open the kitchen door. I’m hot and sticky after running home knowing something bad is about to happen to Wren.
Dad frowns and passes me a bottle of water he quickly grabs from the fridge. “What the hell happened?”
“I was walking home with Wren when the Reverend pulled up beside us. He dragged her into the car.” I drop my stuff to the floor and go to exit the house, but Dad stops me.
“Not so fast.”
“We don’t have time to talk!”
“Sit.” He shoves me into a chair at the kitchen table. “You can’t be acting like a hothead, Rafael.”
“You didn’t see him, Dad.” I gulp the last of the water down. “He’s really pissed she was walking with me.” I stand and lean forward over the table. “He hurt her after we spoke to her in the garden. She had bruising on her arm, and I noticed her limp now and again, so I think he hurt her hip somehow.” I refuse to look at him because he’ll see the truth in my eyes. The truth that I watched her—had seen her beautiful body.
“Hmm.” Dad sits at the table and holds my gaze. “Something else you want to tell me?”
I open my mouth to snap a reply, then think better of it at the last minute. “No.” I turn and pace to the window that looks out over Wren’s back garden. Everything is still and quiet until it’s broken by the slamming of a door. I swivel my head and watch the Reverend settle in the rocker on the porch, his gaze directly on me.
“That bastard,” I mutter.
“Rafael, you know I don’t like bad language coming out of your mouth.”
“He’s gloating, Dad.” I pass a glance to him and then back out of the window. “He’s gloating because he knows I’m worried about Wren. It’s as though he’s taunting me.”
“Then move away from the window and let him think he isn’t getting to you.” Dad sighs. “You’re feeding into his sickness by allowing him into your head.”
Growling in frustration, I force myself to sit back down. “If he’s outside he can’t be hurting Wren, right?” I raise my eyes to his.
“That’s my take on the situation.” Dad moves to stand beside the fridge so he can’t be seen from the outside, but he has a clear view over to Wren’s house. “Right now, the smug bastard is taunting you. He’s daring you to go over and check on Wren.”
“I need to know she’s okay. I can’t just stay here when she could be hurting.”
After a few minutes of searching for something in my gaze, Dad says, “This girl really has gotten to you, hasn’t she?”
“I can’t explain the connection I feel with her. It happened when I first saw her, the day we moved in. I think she felt it too.”
“I don’t think he’s stupid enough to hurt Wren. He already knows you like his daughter, so I think we can presume he thinks we’ll help her at the first sign of trouble. He’ll leave her alone.”
“Then where is she?”
“Probably locked in her room,” Dad says so casually I can almost believe him. “You’ll see her at school tomorrow, ask her what happened. Until then, you have to stay here.”
&
nbsp; I drop my face into my hands and breathe heavily. “Why now, Dad? Why do I suddenly need to care for someone when it could cause so many problems for what we are here to do?”
Dad laughs. “I asked that when I met your mom. I never got an answer.” He tries to lighten the conversation but there is worry behind it. His eyes swirl with emotion. “Mom would be so proud of you, Rafael.” He winces. “Not just because of the man you’ve become, but because of how you want to care for someone who could destroy everything. I know she wasn’t your birth mother, but in every way, you’re just like her.”
Words escape me as I swallow back emotion and clear my throat a few times. Sarah may not have given birth to me, but I’d considered her my real mom from the day she ignored my sully mood and wrapped her arms around me. She’d told me I couldn’t hold out on her forever, and that she loved me anyway. She’d made me happy, as did Roman. We had our usual sibling arguments, but we did get on together well, and I miss him—both of them.
“Wherever you’ve just gone, come back to me, Rafael. They will pay. We need to keep our heads on straight.” He glances toward the window. “He’s still out there.” He pauses. “Tell me how school was?”
I groan. “I hated it the first time around,” I sarcastically drawl. “This time though, I think I’m going to enjoy it.” I give him a large grin. “The scenery is beautiful.”
He clears his throat, but I detect a laugh.
Closing my eyes, I settle down and admit, “I don’t think she knows anything. No one at the school has time for her. They treat her like an outcast.” I open my eyes and look straight into my dad’s black eyes. “They treated me, the new guy, better than Wren.” I rub at my brow. “It doesn’t make sense when the Reverend is her father. Something isn’t right with that.”
“I’d have to agree. Based on the information we’ve obtained, I’d say she should be the popular one at the school.” He frowns. “Are you sure no one talks to her? What do they say about her? Are there whispers?”
“I caught a few, mainly that she’s the weird girl who hangs around with butterflies.” I sigh. “Not one person mentioned the Reverend. I asked about her father and it was whispered not to mention him, like it was a mortal sin or something.” I shrug. “School gave me a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.