by Rona Jameson
I ARRIVE HOME to discover I have nothing to worry about, at least, not then. The Reverend is locked in his office and has left me a scribbled note on the kitchen table saying to serve Sunday lunch in an hour. Nervously chewing on my bottom lip, I slip upstairs and close my bedroom door, sagging behind it. My body is still hot and tight after Rafael had his hands and mouth on me. His touch has ignited something within me that has only cooled, but not gone out completely. I’m unsettled and irritated not knowing what to do to take the heated flush from my cheeks. My heart thumps behind my breastbone and I want to run over to Rafael’s house and demand he finishes what he started. “Frustrated” is the word I’m looking for to describe how I feel. Frustrated.
In a bit of a mood, I tug my Sunday dress off and pull on a pair of comfy sweatpants and a T-shirt. The shirt is plain and baby pink. I’m not allowed anything with a slogan or emblem on it. My neck is heated along with my face, so I grab an elastic and spend ten minutes braiding my long hair. I’m cooler for that. My eyes linger on the closet and I know why. I have to take another look. I’m addicted to the boy next door. I shove my clothes to the side and sigh when I see the artwork Rafael has given me. I’ve hidden it to be sure the Reverend doesn’t catch sight of them. I still can’t get over the gift of them. I haven’t received anything as beautiful before. Rafael sees me like no one else and I can’t believe how happy that makes me.
I want him to see me in the way he does. I think sometimes he sees part of me that I want no one to see and feel sorry for. The part where I’m alone and live in a world of near silence before he moved next door. I’ve had my butterflies for company and nothing more. Now, I’m not too sure what I have, but it’s certainly making me happy.
Then unfortunately, I remember Wild and that the Reverend will demand an explanation from me when I take myself back downstairs. My good mood disappears. Grabbing a sweater because of the sudden chill, I slip it on and move slowly through the house to the kitchen. The meal has been ready for around an hour, but the stove has kept everything warm and just right. I’ve added freshly picked baby tomatoes and zucchini to the pot with the chicken. It smells divine and my belly rumbles. At least my appetite hasn’t deserted me. However, there is still time for that.
Not knowing exactly when the Reverend had written his note about when he expects lunch, I quickly set the table and make the adjustments needed. I pour water from the large bottle in the fridge and set the glasses to the side of our plates, four inches to the right from the tip of the knife.
“Lunch smells good, Wren.”
I jump at the sound of the Reverend’s voice and turn to face him. “Are you ready to eat?”
His eyes trail over me and his mouth turns into a frown. “Why have you changed so quickly?”
I can do this.
“Peter Wild followed me home and tried to get me into his car.” I rush the words out, and continue, “He wouldn’t leave me alone and wanted—” Tears fill my eyes. “He wanted to touch me. Said he was done with waiting.” I wipe a tear away but keep my eyes on him. “Marcel and Rafael DeLacroix came to my rescue.”
As I speak, the Reverend’s face bulges red. The angrier he becomes, the deeper the red on his face turns. He looks about ready to blow a gasket. His fists clench on the table and I force myself not to move.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I blurt in panic. “He came after me. You said I looked nice in my dress. I told him you’d be mad if he touched me, but he said he wasn’t bothered. Please don’t blame me. I promise I tried to get away from him. I wouldn’t have managed if the neighbors hadn’t helped.”
The Reverend still doesn’t say anything—only stares at me while he breathes in and out like a bull ready to charge. He rarely lets me see him so angry, but now I really pray it isn’t me he’s angry at.
“You know I do not like the new neighbors. I told you to stay away from them. WREN!” He slams his fist on the table and the dishes rattles. “Stay away from them!” He holds my gaze and all I can do is nod as fear skates down my spine and lands in my belly like a rock. “I will deal with Wild.” He glances at the table. “Put the lunch out. You eat yours. All of it. Place mine in the stove to keep warm and I’ll eat it later. Don’t wait up for me.” He turns and slams out of the house with only one glance toward me.
27
RAFAEL
“SHE’S IN LOVE WITH YOU,” is the first thing Dad says to me the moment Wren leaves.
I drop my head and close my eyes not knowing what to do. Wren isn’t the only one who is feeling this thing between us. I want her for myself and wish I could take her away from this place and never return.
The sweet taste of her on my mouth lingers and I crave her more than words can say. Wren is beautiful inside and out. I love talking to her. I could listen to her voice all day long and not get bored. When I’m close to her, my body fills with warmth and I crave the touch of her pale skin. I imagine joining her freckles with the tips of my fingers. I want to tell her everything I know about the Reverend and why we’re in town. The only thing stopping me is the vengeance I want for Mom and Roman. The only thing. I hope when she does know everything that she’ll understand and forgive me for lying to her.
“You love her too,” Dad states, moving into my line of sight, a stoop to his shoulders. “We have something to do now, but once we’re back, we need to talk.”
“Why do I get the feeling we’re not going shopping?” I ask when Dad passes me a flashlight.
“Because you would be right.” Dad walks out of the house into the warm sun and I follow, a frown on my face. I’m confused.
“Where are we going?”
Dad indicates for me to get in the car. I’m tempted to go back inside the house, but I’m curious. We’ve been out into town for supplies and had no plans to go out again today.
Turning the engine on, Dad says, “We got information telling us to look around the old schoolhouse.”
“Is that the place we snuck around before we moved here?”
“Yes.” He rubs his mouth, and adds, “It’s been closed for a few years.”
“Something else is bothering you.” I turn in my seat so that I can watch him closely. “I told you I wouldn’t screw this up because of Wren.”
“That isn’t what’s bothering me. At the moment anyway.” He swallows and gives me a sidelong glance. “A note had been shoved under the back door with the info. All it said was to check out the old schoolhouse. I’m not sure whether it’s a move to get us there—a trap. Or whether it’s someone inside the Reverend’s fold, who also knows who I am and is trying to help.”
“But you’re curious enough to want to go look.”
“Yes.”
I think back to the night I was caught watching the computers being unloaded into the church and the man who told me to leave. He hadn’t given me away.
“The man,” I start, “who told me to go. You don’t think he’s law enforcement, do you?”
“I’m still waiting on confirmation as to Silas’s status.” He slams his fist in the middle of the steering wheel. “I have a feeling he’s alive and going after the Reverend on his own.”
“Not alone. We need to compare his handwriting to that on the flowers. I bet he sent the note, which means he’s asking for our help.”
“What worries me is, if he isn’t Silas, then who is he?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug.
Deep in thought, Dad doesn’t say anything while continuing to drive along the country road that leads directly to the schoolhouse. We’ll have to trek through the long grass to get to the building as the driveway has been covered up and left to go crazy. Foliage covers everything in sight. The wrought iron gates are falling to the side of the entrance.
I don’t see anything out of place or different than the last time we were here. Dad parks out of view of the road, using the foliage to cover us from any passersby.
Jumping from the SUV, I’m not sure I agree with his reasoning for being he
re at his point. It’s too damn hot to be looking for something when we don’t know what we’re looking for. Dad thinks we’ll know when we see it.
Hours later, after searching the immediate area and coming up with nothing, I’m exhausted. Sweat runs down my back and stomach dropping into my jeans. I discarded my shirt a while back, but fuck, my balls feel like they’re baking trapped in black denim. Part of me regrets living in jeans at this moment in time. Maybe I should have had the sense to wear the khaki shorts Dad had tossed me a few days ago, I’d be a lot cooler at least. Sans boxers would be good too. A nice breeze to keep my dick happy.
I glance toward the water, fighting the temptation to take a swim. The thought that there may be a dead body or two in the water puts me off it, though. I have a healthy imagination that sometimes takes a turn on the dark side, like now. I mentioned to Dad that there were probably dead bodies all over the place. He didn’t find it amusing. I’m not amused, just convinced I’m right.
Darkness has settled in as I climb into the car with nice air conditioning. My pulse pounds through my head as I go from melting into a puddle to a pleasant coolness. It caresses my skin while Dad sits staring off into space. I just want to get out of here for something to eat and a cold drink. Thinking about ice-cold liquid sliding down my throat makes my mouth water. What I want most though, while I’m all hot and sweaty, is Wren. She’ll be a firecracker once she gets started, and I’m going to be the one to see her that way. No one else.
Shifting in my seat, I let out a heavy lungful of air willing my arousal down a notch or two…or maybe five. My head needs to be filled with something other than the girl, otherwise, I’m going to become an embarrassment.
I glance again at Dad and he hasn’t moved, his eyes focused on a spot close to the river on the left side of the schoolhouse. His hands are wrapped tightly around the steering wheel and his fingers flex.
“Dad?”
“I think there’s someone moving around over there.”
“What?” I stare in the same direction and it takes me a few minutes to properly focus with the sweat running off of me. When I do, I realize he’s right. “More than one person.” I reach for the door handle, but Dad grabs my arm, indecision on his face. “We have to go and see what they’re doing?”
“It’s dangerous,” he hisses, and curses under his breath. “I need to remember you can handle yourself.”
“I can. Now, let’s move it before they’re gone.” He doesn’t restrain me now that he’s come to the same conclusion as I have.
Slowly, we slip from the car and straight into the tall grass. It blows softly in the welcomed light breeze. Insects buzz around us, and not that I’m religious, but I’m fucking praying right now that I don’t meet a snake. I shudder at the idea, but continue to creep forward, watching Dad and his movements. He stops. I stop. He moves. I move. He hadn’t just insisted on martial arts and self-defense training after Mom and Roman died. He made sure I was ready to be here with him. He’d known I wanted the bastards responsible for their deaths to pay as much as he did.
Dad quickly touches my arm and I still and listen when he touches his ear. The first noise I hear is plopping sounds, like something hitting water. I frown wondering what the hell I’m listening to and then remember we’re next to the river. About a foot to my left and I’ll be swimming. I think we’ve spooked the frogs because that’s what I hear, their croaks loud in my ears. I keep my head down and crawl away from the nest or whatever you call where frogs live. I’m out of the way with seconds to spare as one of the men we saw moving around stands where I was a few seconds ago.
It was close.
I hold still while my heart pounds against my breastbone and something jumps onto the back of my leg. I desperately want to shake my leg to get it off. It just sits there, the urge to move getting stronger by the second. A frog maybe. I don’t turn my head because I’m keeping my eyes on the asshole looking around him. Luckily, his main attention is focused on the river.
Sweat drips down my face and between my shoulder blades. I’m afraid to move the slightest bit in case I attract his attention…and then, just as suddenly, he’s gone, and I hear his boots squelching in the mud. I stare and wait, but he doesn’t return. I drop my head in relief and feel the creature on my leg get knocked off. It croaks and disappears into the water.
Thank fuck it was only a frog.
Shuddering, I turn my head and indicate for us to move closer. Dad shakes his head, and whispers, “Wait.”
I don’t want to wait. I’m impatient to see exactly what they’re up to. Lifting my head so I can see above the grass, I frown. There are three men standing around what I remember as being an old rusty bathtub, the heavy kind that sometimes have to be broken up inside a home to remove it because of the weight. Weeds and mud rested in it before. With how their attention is focused, I think we should have looked more closely.
Dad moves in until he’s pressed along the side of my leg, and leans in whispering, “The Reverend.”
“I recognize him. I don’t the others.”
“I can’t get a good look.” Dad makes a move to get closer just as a whoosh followed by flames fills the distance. Seconds later he dives on top of me. “Stay down.”
“What the fuck?” I try to shove Dad from me, my heart racing with fear from being held down.
“Fuck,” he curses and rolls from me. “I’m sorry, Rafael.” He gets into a crouch and I follow trying to calm down except I can’t hear anything because of the blood rushing through my head. He rubs my back with a gentle hand and my breathing finally slows. I haven’t had many panic attacks since I was attacked trying to go to Mom and Roman’s rescue, so I’m surprised one hit me now. Not the most convenient of places to have one.
Dad indicates the direction to move in as I glance at the blaze happening in the tub. I know we need to move away, but I want to see what they’re burning. It could be evidence. Incriminating documents. Dad shakes his head, knowing exactly what I’m thinking. “I’ll come back tomorrow and check it out.”
I take a step to follow but stop and listen. The hull of a boat sluices through the water moving away from us. They’ve gone and left the fire? No, a man has stayed behind and watches the flames shoot high.
“Move,” Dad hisses, taking my wrist and tugging me with him.
He lets go and I continue to follow. “We can’t leave until he’s gone. He’ll hear the car.”
“We’ll roll backwards down the hill before I switch the engine on. It should give us enough time to get out of here before he knows we were watching.” He quietly shuts his door, and adds, “It’s the Reverend standing there. He’ll presume it was us, but he won’t know for sure.” With that, Dad releases the parking brake and eases us down the hill. Not before long, we’re racing back to the house.
28
WREN
HOURS after the Reverend’s outburst, I’m in the kitchen with the ladle in my hands, which shake at the memory of earlier. He hasn’t been angry like that in a few years. Inhaling, I scoop a piece of chicken from the pot and then top it on my plate with the vegetables. New potatoes have cooked well in the pot, so I place them around and admire the meal. It looks pretty with the different colors. It certainly smells good. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to eat it with my tummy rolling. He really frightened me with the slamming on the table. He is strong in his beliefs and rules his home with an iron fist, and perhaps those around him fear him more than I thought. Wild hadn’t unless he’d used false bravado when he’d been after me. That man is dangerous. It worried me the way the Reverend had stormed out of the house. There is a part of me that hopes he’s gone to teach Wild a lesson, because then maybe, the Reverend will get in trouble with the law and won’t come home. If he doesn’t come home, I’ll have nowhere to go until I turn eighteen when I will be legal. They might even leave me alone because my birthday is three months away.
Sighing heavily, I decide not to dwell on something I can’t control, and u
se another plate to cover the Reverend’s food before placing it into the oven, keeping it on the lowest setting. Mine looks lost on the table alone. I pull out the wooden chair and take my seat, pulling my dish closer. My belly lets out another rumble and I smile. I’m going to enjoy this! I get to eat a meal alone and take my time without the Reverend glaring at me. The vegetables are from my garden and that is an accomplishment. Delight fills me as I place a small piece of chicken and a baby tomato into my mouth. The tomato tastes fresh and juicy, while the chicken has been cooked to tender perfection.
Before I know it, I’ve eaten everything on my plate. Once the dishes are washed and put away, I decide to head outside. A light breeze ruffles the loose hair around my face as I glance next door. Marcel’s SUV is still missing, and the house looks quiet.
The moment I feel the butterflies waking from where they’ve been perched, I smile and close my eyes with my face tipped toward the setting sun. The flutter of tiny wings tickle my nose and I sneeze and laugh after the fourth one. Tiny wings of all colors dance before my eyes. If I didn’t know any better, I would say they laughed at me. These beautiful creatures who have become my friends are so delicate. And each are so different with varied sizes, shapes, and colors of wings. Sometimes I wish I could capture the essence of them so that I will never forget how they were here for me. Rafael had captured their beauty with his drawings. He sees what no one else ever has. It makes my belly tingle and dance with how he sees me. He not only sees the young girl with long dark brown hair, pale skin with freckles over my cheeks, but he also sees inside of me to the loneliness.
I hold my hand out and watch as Tiger Lily lands on my thumb and another follows along my finger. Butterflies do not have a long lifespan and I know it’s only a matter of time before these beauties will become a memory. More will take their place, they always do, but Tiger Lily is special to me, and I will miss him.