by Rona Jameson
As soon as I step through, I hear the Reverend’s voice rise with his sermon. I’ve heard this so many times before—about how daughters should be obedient and how sons should grow into strong able-bodied men to keep their wives in line. He is in his element preaching to the masses about obedience. It’s like he’s obsessed with it. He certainly has obedience from his followers—the journals, the uniforms, the removal of the computers from the school. Everything that has been done recently has all been agreed on by his followers. Not that they had a choice.
The Reverend finally starts to calm down and his words become softer. I take that opportunity to slide along the hallway so I can see more of what is going on. I wish I’d left instead, because as soon as I’m in view, my eyes land on Peter Wild who has a smile on his face. His eyes keep going up and down the length of me and I want to puke. My skin crawls as though a million insects run over me. Feeling the urge to flee, I turn and head toward the back exit, only to hear Agnes talking on the other side of the door.
If I remember correctly there is a way of getting to the side exit without being seen by going through the basement. Perhaps, I’m being a bit dramatic, but I really don’t want to have to see Wild or Agnes. Both of whom would gladly tell the Reverend about my strange behavior.
Basements scare me, but at least I know the Reverend isn’t punishing me right now, and he is distracted with his followers after the service. The cold seeps into my bones as I get further down the steps, but that’s as far as I go.
In front of me is a new door I haven’t seen before. A fire door. It’s thick and solid and has been left ajar. Through the gap I don’t see one computer on a desk, I see five or six very familiar looking computers. Are they the ones removed from school? What are they doing here? I take a step closer and freeze with my heart in my throat as I hear voices. A man I haven’t seen before moved into the doorway as though to exit and is startled to see me.
“What’s wrong?” another guy questions from the side.
The man shakes his head, his eyes on me. “Nothing.” He moves his eyes upward, and that’s my cue to get the hell out of sight
I turn and flee up the stairs and straight outside. Agnes is gone, thank God! I glance around and not seeing anyone, I hurry around the side of the church to the front so that the men coming out of the basement don’t catch me loitering. Grabbing onto the railing at the front of the church, I breathe deeply to try and calm my racing heart. The sun shines down on me, so I lift my face and soak up the rays. It works a little but my heart still pounds with fear as I start walking home.
Today is turning out to be a bad day as I hear the unmistakable sound of Wild’s car coming up fast from behind me. I don’t have time to hide before Wild pulls the car to a stop directly in front of me—the way forward now blocked. All I can hear in my head is my pulse thumping as fear slithers like a snake down my spine.
Peter Wild steps out of the car and rests a clenched fist on the roof of his sedan, his eyes look glazed as though he’s been drinking.
“Thought you could leave without saying anything, huh?” He grins. “A pretty little thing like you walking home alone.” He shakes his head. “Anything could happen to you. I’m not about to let that happen. I don’t want to lose you to someone else.”
“Lose me?” I take a step around the back of his car as he moves around the hood.
Keeping the distance between us is at the front of my mind but a car coming up fast from the opposite end of the lane causes me to stumble and Wild grabs my wrist. His grip is tight, biting into my skin. I can already see an angry red welt on my pale skin that will definitely bruise. I want to puke as I feel his weight against my back.
“Behave yourself, Wren. You wouldn’t want the Reverend to know how bad you’ve been,” he hisses, and grabs hold of my other wrist.
I struggle to free myself from his grip, but his fingers refuse to budge. “I haven’t done anything wrong. The Reverend will kill you for touching me.”
He stills at my words and I see his reflection through the back window—the Reverend doesn’t scare him.
I hear the car come to a stop and Wild wheels us both around to watch Marcel climbing from the large black beast of a car. He slams the door—loud in the silence—almost like a gunshot. Rafael jumps from the passenger seat and starts toward me. “Let her go.”
“No.” Wild tightens his hold. He’s sweating like a pig in the midday sun and the smell is not pleasant at all.
“It will take Rafael two minutes to run to the church and tell the Reverend that you are mishandling his daughter.” Marcel takes a step closer. His body language is controlled but I can tell there is anger just below the surface. He’s clearly ready for anything Wild attempts. Knowing that Marcel and Rafael are here reassures me that I will be okay. The Reverend won’t see it that way.
“You don’t know anything about the Reverend.” Wild sneers as though he knows something we don’t. “Or me.”
Marcel’s jaw clenches tightly and he takes a deep breath. “How about you let her go and I’ll let you live.” He takes a threatening step toward Wild, who loosens his hold.
The opportunity rises and I take it. I stomp hard on the front of Wild’s shoe. He curses and loosens his grip even more as I try to stay balanced. I’m so angry and now that I have the advantage over the tall man, I turn and knee him in the groin. He gasps and his eyes shoot fire as he goes down to the ground, cupping himself. The moment I’m free, Rafael pulls me away and takes me straight to his father’s SUV.
Rafael opens the back door and, grabbing my hips, lifts me inside the car. I shuffle over and sigh when he follows in behind me. “Let me see what he did.” Rafael gently takes hold of my hands and glances out the windshield to check on his father before he turns his attention to the discoloring on my skin. “I hate this. I hate that you are in this situation and I can’t do anything to help you.”
“No. Please don’t say that.” I wince as I pull my hands free and jump into his arms, straddling his lap. My arms wrap around his neck as his go around my middle. We hold each other tightly. “You help me more than you know. Just by being here for me, you help me.” I nuzzle into his neck and feel pressure between my legs. It takes me a moment to realize what I feel, and I smile and brush my lips against the scar on his cheek.
Rafael wraps his hand in my hair and tilts my head backwards so that our eyes meet. “You are asking for trouble.” He shudders and lifts me from his lap. He inhales and quickly rearranges the bulge in his jeans before he lifts a knee and turns to me. Just in time too as Marcel climbs into the driver’s seat and glances between the two of us. His eyes say he knows exactly what was going on between us, but his words are filled with concern.
“We have you, Wren. He won’t touch you again or I’ll kill him.”
“Thank you for coming to my rescue.” I squeeze Rafael’s hand. “But please, you can’t get involved in anything that involves me or the Reverend. You just can’t.”
“Hey, don’t cry.” Rafael wipes a tear from my eye even though more fall. “We’re not going to let anything happen to you, Wren. We know there is something very wrong here.” Rafael looks at his father, who meets his son’s eyes in the mirror. “I’m not going to leave you to him. Ever.” His eyes blaze with promise, and so much more that my young heart struggles to grasp.
This boy, who I haven’t known that long, will protect me with everything he has. We’ve already established that we are attracted to each other, and now, I realize his attraction toward me is so much more than I could ever have hoped for. I hold his gaze while his dad takes us back up the lane. It doesn’t break while they both lead me inside of their house. I continue to hold his gaze as he takes me upstairs to his room, and he holds mine while he sits me on his bed and crouches in front of me.
He looks embarrassed when he says, “I’ve never had a girl inside of my bedroom before. Not back in New Orleans, or here.” He smiles. “But I want you in here and I don’t want you to go back t
o the house next door.”
I dip my head. “I have to go back. You know I do.” I reach forward and press my hand to his neck. “It doesn’t mean I don’t want to stay here with you. It just means I don’t want any trouble coming your way.”
“Trouble is going to come here because we helped you.”
I shake my head and reach for him, pulling his face so close to mine that we breathe the same air. “The Reverend will be angry that he didn’t stop him. He won’t be angry he was stopped because that isn’t how the Reverend is. I’m his property, and anyone who dares to touch me will have wished they’d never heard of him, or me.”
Rafael frowns. “That sounds rehearsed.”
“It’s his quote.” I sigh and brush my lips across his before I lick mine. “Will you take the memory away for me?” I ask knowing that he wants to follow my lead—the lead that I have no idea where it came from.
His eyes stare at my lips and I tease him again with a swipe of my tongue across them. I watch his chest move in and out as he takes heavy, deep breaths and my body shivers in delight when a groan rumbles in his throat. I feel claimed as he pounces forward and presses me against his bed. His lips crush mine and my calm completely shatters with the hunger of his kiss. I forget everything as his tongue pushes into my mouth and sends shivers of hunger racing through my body that land straight between my legs. I moan and wrap my legs around his hips feeling wonderful and needy. I can’t stop rubbing myself against the hardness of his lower body. Rafael grunts and tries to pull away, but I cling to him, gripping his hair and angling his head to accept my eager mouth.
I should be embarrassed by my response to the touch of his lips, his body, but I’m not. He is everything I want in one delicious package and I never want him to stop touching me. The touch of his lips sears a path down my neck, my shoulders, and then I feel his tongue tracing along my collarbone. My insides melt and when his hand reaches up and outlines the circle of my breast, I can’t help my wanton response. Rafael growls and bites down on one of my nipples and I squirm beneath him. His body is so hard and strong above me. I feel the throb of his penis at his groin as he grows larger and harder against me. My body burns from the inside out and I don’t think I’ll be able to stop. I need more and I need it with Rafael. My mind knows something out of this world is about to happen, but I have no experience and don’t know how to get it.
“Rafael,” Marcel shouts. “Can you come downstairs a minute?”
Rafael pants hard as he raises his mouth from mine and gazes into my eyes. He brushes a gentle kiss across my forehead, and whispers, “I want you.” His last words are smothered on my lips.
“Rafael?” Marcel shouts again.
I pull my mouth away and bury my face in his neck, where I place a kiss. Rafael shudders and with reluctance in every slow move he makes, he unwraps himself from me. His eyes swirl with desire as he takes his time looking at my body spread wide open on his bed. I push up on my elbows and look down and my cheeks heat. My skirt is around my hips and my pink panties are visible. “Wanton” is the only word to describe how I look.
“Rafael, dammit!”
Rafael takes a deep breath, and replies, “I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Okay,” Marcel shouts after a lengthy pause. “About damn time,” I hear him mutter as his voice trails away.
Rafael kneels between my spread legs and I watch as his hands explore my thighs before moving toward my panties. His eyes glitter and stay focused between my legs as he teases by rubbing up and down my groin. Without thought, my hips wiggle closer to his hands and then I feel him drag a finger between the lips down there. I gasp in pleasure and drop back to the bed.
“I don’t want to stop touching you.” He rubs and draws circles on me, and I’ve never felt anything like it. “It drives me crazy knowing you want me.”
“I do but how can you tell.” I laugh. “I mean apart from me throwing myself at you.”
His finger stops and then his hand cups me as his eyes lift to mine. “I know because your panties are soaked with arousal.” He breathes heavier. “You smell good, too.” He swallows and his voice comes out husky. “Touching you makes me hard, Wren. Do you understand that?”
“Yes. I want to see you.” I blush deeply.
“I want to see you too, but not while my dad is waiting impatiently for me downstairs.” He stands again and begs, “Will you pull your skirt down so I can’t see.” He glances at his own body and a shudder ripples through him as he tugs on the ends of his hair. “I can’t go downstairs like this.” His hands rest on his hips while he tilts his head and stares up at the ceiling, his breathing becoming slower.
My eyes go to his hips and I immediately wonder if he will ever fit inside of me. My cheeks set on fire and I have no idea where that thought came from. I might be clueless about how exactly the pleasure bursts from my body, but I know that a man’s penis is supposed to fit inside a woman’s vagina during sex.
Rafael chokes on a moan and gives me his back. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to be embarrassing myself.” He runs his hands through his hair. “I’m too old for that,” he mutters under his breath. His feet are heavy on the floor as he moves toward his bedroom door. He stops and looks over his shoulder. His eyes linger on my sprawled body on his bed. “Stay up here, okay? I’ll find out what my dad wants and then come back up.”
I nod and watch his perfect ass move out of the room. My head feels heavy on my shoulders as I drop it to his bed and stare at the ceiling. His bedroom is large and takes over the entire attic. The ceiling slips upwards into the roof of the house and is lined with hardwood and rafters. It would be nice to have twinkling lights wrapped around the beams. That would be the girly thing to do and Rafael is anything but girly. He is all man.
When he’d looked up at me from between my legs, he hadn’t looked like an eighteen-year-old boy, he’d looked older, and wiser. What really makes Rafael DeLacroix tick? Wanting to make the most of my time alone in his room, I force myself off his bed. The area by the window attracts my attention. He has an armchair set by the window and beside it a small table holding a sketchpad and a pot with a few pencils in all black. I curl up in the chair and that’s when I see them. His drawings. They take my breath away. He’s captured me with my butterflies in different spots around the garden—in the door of the glasshouse, watering the plants on one side, in the middle of the garden with my arms outstretched. The latter drawing is on a larger scale than the one he’d given me. It’s the first time he’d seen me. The first time I’d seen him.
Unable to move my eyes from them, I slowly stand and pad over to the wall covered in Rafael’s artwork. His dedication to detail astounds me. My eyes linger over the pieces and freeze on the one of us both on my roof. I was in Rafael’s arms with my head resting on his shoulder, a butterfly—Tiger Lily—in my hair. I have to swallow around the lump in my throat at the sight of us together. My fingers softly trail over the outline of us. The boy has worked his magic on me from the moment we met—a connection between us that continues to pull us together.
From behind, hands squeeze my hips before Rafael wraps himself around me and rests his chin on my shoulder.
“How long were you watching me?”
“Long enough to know how much you like my sketches.” His deep voice rumbles from his chest and vibrates against my back.
“These are more than sketches, Rafael.” I continue tracing the lines. “You’re really talented.”
“Hmm.” He sighs. “You don’t think it’s creepy they’re all of you?”
I think about what he said, but they don’t freak me out, I’m delighted he’s drawn me. “No.” I give him my answer. “I love how you’ve captured me, and the delicate butterflies. However, most of all, I really like this one of us both. It says so much that I don’t think words would ever be able to justify.”
“It’s one of my favorites, but this one”—he reaches forward and taps a finger to the one of me in the
middle of the garden—“is my absolute favorite. You took my breath away, Wren. I thought I was dreaming when I saw you covered in butterflies.” He nuzzles into my neck. “You’re my beautiful butterfly girl.” Rafael’s lips are on my neck before he slowly pulls away, his words, “The Reverend is home,” sends fear down my spine. “That’s what my dad wanted to talk about. He wanted you to know that we’ll go home with you and explain what happened on the road. You don’t have to do it alone.”
“I’ll be fine.” I hope. “He’ll be angry but, hopefully, not at me.” I shrug, feeling anything but relaxed.
“You know we’ll both be here for you, right? I mean it, Wren. I’m not all talk and no action. You need us, and we’ll come.” Rafael cups my face and presses a lingering kiss on my forehead.
Feeling choked up with emotion, I hug him tightly. “That means everything to me,” I whisper against his warm body. “Please don’t worry.”
“I will regardless.” He gives me one last squeeze. “You better go before he gets angry for you not being there.”
“Will I see you later?” I ask as he takes my hand and leads me downstairs.
He briefly meets his dad’s eyes, and then whispers, “No. We have to run some errands.” I frown when he won’t meet my gaze.
Turning to his dad, I say, “Thank you, Mr. DeLacroix, for coming to my rescue.”
He smiles. “You know my name is Marcel.” He takes my hands into his.
“Thank you, Marcel.”
“You are welcome. I hope my son has told you we are here if you need us.”
I glance at Rafael. “He has.”
Marcel nods and Rafael walks me to the front door. “I’m not going to risk him seeing you with me, so I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” He kisses my forehead and practically shoves me outside.
And as I cross to my house, I remember the computers in the basement of the church. I’ll have to remember to tell Rafael.