by Kate L. Mary
Together, Jared and I can make this work.
Chapter 21
A thud echoes through the house, coming from the bedroom, just as Jared and I are gathering our things to leave. Our eyes meet, and neither of us has to say a word because we know what it is. David is awake.
Part of me wants to just walk away and never look back, but another part of me wants to check on him. I have no emotional attachment to the man I was forced to marry—quite the opposite, actually—but I can’t help worrying he’ll die and it will be my fault.
“I’m going to check on him,” I say, taking one step backward.
Jared’s eyebrows shoot up, getting lost under his still damp blond hair. “What? Willow, no.”
“I need to,” I tell him. “I can’t explain it. I know I owe these people and this place nothing, but I have to make sure he’s okay before I leave. I have to make sure if something does happen to him, I’m not the one responsible for it.” I take a deep breath. “Plus, I feel like I need some closure.”
Jared shakes his head, but he doesn’t argue again. “Fine, but I’m coming, too.”
Since I have no problem with him coming, I say nothing before turning my back to him.
The hall seems twice as long when I head down it, and each step takes more effort than the one before. I pause outside the door, breathing in and out a few times before gathering enough strength to step into the room.
Everything is exactly as it was. The glass on the floor, the blood streaked on the bed, David tied to the chair. Only now his eyes are open, and they’re staring first at me and then at Jared. They’re wide, and the violent twist of his body as he fights against his restraints seems to match the anger swimming in them. Muffled sounds break out of his mouth—indecipherable, thanks to the gag—and the legs of the chair thump against the floor as he struggles to get free. He isn’t making any progress, and I know he’ll only succeed in wearing himself out. We did a good job of tying him to the chair.
“Stop,” I say, and even though he’s gagged and bound, the word comes out shaky. I swallow, hating that I’m still afraid of him. “David.”
He stops struggling, but the hatred in his eyes seems to grow in intensity.
“Jared and I are leaving,” I say. “I’m sure your father will find you in the morning and things here will continue the way they always have, but I won’t be part of it. There will be no bringing me back this time. No matter what happens here, no matter what you and your father choose to do to my mother or anyone else in this commune, I won’t give in. I won’t live in fear. Not anymore.”
I take a step back, and Jared’s fingers brush my waist while in front of me, David begins to struggle again. The gag fractures the words he hurls at me, but their tone is loud and clear. I’m not surprised. David and his father aren’t the kind of people who roll over and accept defeat.
I turn my back to him and focus on my future. On Jared and what we have and what we can have. The man behind me continues to struggle, but I leave him without looking back. I’ve done my duty. I’ve made sure he isn’t on the verge of dying, and now I can leave with my conscience intact.
David’s muffled words and the thump of the chair legs against the floor follow us as Jared and I head back out into the living room. It’s just after midnight, so we gather our things and leave the house, turning the lights out so anyone passing by thinks David and I are asleep.
Outside, the April night is chilly, but the scent of spring clings to the air as Jared and I hurry down the street to the main building, careful to stay in the shadows. The cuts on my right palm throb with every step I take, but I ignore the pain and hold on to Jared with my other hand so I don’t trip and fall. I think we need each other to stay up, both of us still worn out from our ordeal.
I have a cloth bag I found in David’s house thrown over my shoulder, containing a change of clothes for each of us. There’s plenty of room for any supplies we might find in the main building, as well as the money I saw on Father David’s desk. Hopefully, by the time we leave the commune, this bag will be full.
I let out a sigh of relief the second we’re safely in the building. It’s dark and silent, and unlike the night I found Mother Ruth, the lobby isn’t painted red from the light shining in through the stained glass window. The door to the worship hall is open, though, so the moon must be hidden behind clouds. Hopefully, it doesn’t rain. That would make our getaway rough.
“This way.” Jared pulls me deeper into the building.
Every creak and groan startles me, but so far nothing seems off. At this time of the night, there’s no reason anyone should be in the building, so we should be okay. Even so, by the time we step into the office, I’m jumpy and so ready to get out of here I consider not looking for supplies at all. We should just get the money and go. It can’t be too far to the nearest town. We can buy supplies there.
Once the door is shut behind me and I’ve had a chance to catch my breath, I change my mind. We have no idea where we are or how long it will take us to get to safety, and we need to be prepared for anything. We’ve been through too much to fail now.
Jared flips on the light, and I squint into the bright room, barely able to focus on anything other than the thumping of my heart.
“Let’s get the money so we can get upstairs and get out of here,” I say.
“Yeah.” Jared shakes his head, worry written in every line of his face. “I don’t like being here.”
Neither do I.
My vision slowly adjusts to the bright lights, and the box comes into view, sitting right on the desk where I saw it only a few hours earlier. The latch is still undone.
“Here,” I say, rushing forward.
Jared reaches it before me, swiping it up and practically ripping the lid off. He dumps the contents on the desk, and dozens of neatly bound stacks of money tumble out. I shift from foot to foot while Jared sorts through them. My hand throbs and my head is pounding, and I’m pretty sure my heart is trying to break out of my chest.
I can’t just stand here. There isn’t time. So, I move to the other side of Father David’s desk and rip the top drawer open. There has to be something we can use.
It contains nothing but papers, and the second drawer is a repeat of the first. My legs are shaking, so I plop down on the floor before pulling open the bottom drawer. I’m digging through it when the word willow catches my eye, and I stop. It’s a book. I pull it out with shaky hands, reading the cover in disbelief.
“The Wind in the Willows,” I whisper.
Jared looks up from the money he’s sorting through. “What did you say?”
“It’s my father’s.” I hold the book up for him to see. “My mother told me he had a first edition, but she gave it to Father David when she joined the Children.”
Jared frowns at the book in my hand. “I wonder why he didn’t sell it.”
I shake my head as I stare at the book. The cover is worn but intact, and even though the pages have yellowed from age, they aren’t loose or ripped. Will this book be able to give me any insight into what my father was like? There’s only one way to know for sure. I pull myself to my feet and slip the book gently into the bag.
“There’s over thirty thousand dollars here,” Jared says.
“Is that a lot?” I don’t have a good concept of the value of money, but it seems like a lot to me.
“I was ten, remember?” He snorts and shakes his head. “It was a long time ago, and I was just a kid, so to me ten dollars was a lot of money. I think my parents paid around twenty thousand for a car, but I could be wrong about that.”
I open the bag and hold it out to him. “We’ll take it all, just in case.”
Jared smiles as he piles it into the bag. “In case we need to buy a car?”
“Exactly,” I say, smiling back even though I have no clue how to drive and I doubt Jared does either.
Maybe taking this money is stealing, maybe it’s immoral, but after everything that’s been stolen from
me inside these walls, all of it in the name of God, I feel like I’m owed something. This money will do just fine.
Footsteps pound down the hall, and we both freeze.
My knees wobble, and I grab the desk for support, certain David has somehow gotten free and come to get his revenge. Jared puts a finger to his lips and grabs my hand, pulling me behind him. With his free hand, he slips the knife out of his pocket, and I watch in horror as his fingers flex around the handle.
I don’t want this to be happening. I just want to leave, to be safe with Jared and not have to fight anymore.
I hold my breath, my eyes focused on the door. The footsteps stop just on the other side, and Jared’s hand tightens around mine. I suck in a mouthful of air that doesn’t seem to reach my lungs. I can’t breathe. I’m going to suffocate from fear.
We stand frozen and waiting, but nothing happens.
Are we safe?
Jared shifts, and his grip on my hand loosens. I start to think we’re okay. It isn’t David. He didn’t come searching for me. We’re okay.
The door bursts open, and I let out a yelp, and Father David is standing in front of us. I look past him, out into the hall, half expecting to see David standing there with an expression of rage and hatred on his face, but the hall is empty.
Has Father David been to the house, or did he come back to the main building for something else and stumble upon us accidentally? It’s impossible to tell, and right now he isn’t saying anything, and his only reaction to our presence has been to freeze in the doorway.
“Willow,” he says after a minute of silence.
My name comes off his tongue sounding low and deep, like the wind when it howls through the forest in the fall. It’s as chilly as autumn air, too, and I can’t help shivering.
Father David takes a step into the room. With each passing second, his expression changes from the practiced self-righteousness I’ve grown up seeing, to one that can only be described as pure evil. His nostrils flare when he looks back and forth between Jared and me, and something that reminds me of the flickering flames of a fire flashes in his eyes.
Jared’s hand clamps down on mine, grinding my bones together. He steps back until my body is trapped between his and the desk. I should be terrified to be this confined, but right now all I can do is stare at Father David and wonder what will happen now. If he’ll concede. If he’ll finally let me go. What Jared and I will have to do to get out of here in one piece.
Jared raises his free hand, and the lights glint off the blade, but to me it seems to highlight how small the thing is. It’s only a kitchen knife, meant for cutting vegetables, not for defending yourself against a madman.
“We just want to leave,” Jared says.
I pull the bag closer, hugging it to my side in the hope that Father David won’t notice it if he does relent and let us walk out the door. Yes, Jared and I want to leave, but we also want to take this money with us. We need it if we’re going to start a new life together.
Father David doesn’t even acknowledge Jared’s words, but seems to look through him. To me. “This isn’t what was supposed to happen. God told me everything would be okay. That you would be submissive.”
He walks closer, and Jared presses his body more firmly against mine. The pressure makes the panic rise inside me, but I force it down, refusing to let it take control. Not only would Jared never hurt me, but he’s doing this to protect me.
“Stay back,” Jared says, his voice booming through the small space.
Father David stops and blinks like he’s thought of something for the first time. “Where’s my son?” His lips curl up into a sneer when he finally focuses on Jared. “How did you get out?”
“David’s fine,” I blurt out. “He’s in his house. Go see for yourself.”
Getting him to leave and go check on David is a long shot, but one I have to take. If he does, we could make a run for it. We wouldn’t have much of a head start, but it’s possible we could hide in the woods. Evade him somehow.
Father David shakes his head, and even though the concern for his son is still there, it’s overshadowed by the anger pulsing through him when he once again focuses on me. “You can’t leave. I have to make an example of you. Out of both of you. I have to show the Children what happens to anyone who goes against the will of God.”
His jaw twitches only a second before he moves. We barely have time to react, and all Jared manages to do is slash the knife through the air uselessly before Father David has a grip on him.
The older man is stronger than his lean body makes him seem, or Jared is still weak from his ordeal, because he goes down, hitting the floor with a thud that sounds louder than a clap of thunder. I’m not even sure how it all happens. One second Jared is in front of me, then he’s lying on the ground and his knife is clattering across the floor.
Father David blinks down at him twice before kicking him in the side, and Jared lets out a grunt of pain.
Then the man of God turns on me. He grabs me by the hair, getting a much bigger handful than his son did only a few hours ago, and jerks me toward him. We’re only inches apart, so close I can see a vein throbbing in his temple. I try to back away, but his grip on my hair only tightens, and every move I make feels like the strands are being pulled from my scalp one by one.
“I gave you a chance to do the right thing,” he finally says. His voice is low, but so controlled it terrifies me even more than if he was screaming. “You brought this on yourself.”
I swallow, unsure of what he’s saying with my head spinning the way it is. But then his gaze moves to the floor, his eyes on Jared, who is holding his side like he’s in excruciating pain, and I know.
The impact feels like George is in front of me, slapping me with so much force that it sends me to the ground and knocks the wind out of me. I actually jerk away from Father David, which only results in more of my hair being ripped from my head.
“No.” The word is a pathetic hiss.
My begging is as useless as my body usually is around David. The man in front of me, the one who has spent so much time slowly unraveling and destroying my life, kneels, pulling me with him by my hair. I drop so fast my knees slam into the floor, and I find myself next to Jared. He’s holding his side and staring up at us, seemingly frozen by the circumstances we find ourselves in, not by the pain.
Good. Maybe he’s biding his time. Maybe he has a plan. Maybe we will still make it out of this.
“I don’t savor the idea of having to kill you,” Father David says, his gaze on Jared, “but you’ve left me no choice.”
When he reaches into his pocket with his free hand, I don’t know what to expect, but the sight of the knife is enough to knock the wind out of me. It has a blade that folds in on itself, and I can’t think of a single reason why he has it with him. There’s nothing dangerous in our community, unless you count the man now holding me captive, so it doesn’t make sense for him to carry around a knife.
Unless he doesn’t usually have it.
Unless he brought it with him to the main building for a reason.
Unless he was already on his way to kill Jared, and that’s why he stumbled upon us.
Heat flares through me, and once again I feel like a bomb is going off in my body. Only this time, it isn’t set for destruction. This time it’s like a rocket of fire.
Fury builds in me, starting in my toes and forcing its way through my body until it explodes out of me in a scream. Father David is working on freeing the blade from the knife, his concentration so intent on the task that when I bring my head forward, I take him completely by surprise. My forehead slams into his, and pain bursts through my skull as a blanket of black covers my vision.
I know I fall to the floor because I can feel the scratchy fibers of the carpet against my cheek, but I don’t feel the impact. The throbbing in my head makes it seem like someone is punching me over and over again, and the darkness that’s settled over me makes me feel like I’ve been thrown
back in the cellar so I can repent. I know I’m not unconscious because I can hear. Thuds. Grunts. Scrapes of feet or bodies against the floor. They’re all around me, circling me like a tornado.
I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping to push the pain away. It doesn’t work, but when I open my eyes, I’m able to see again. The room looks bright, though, and the overhead lights only serve to make the pulsing in my head more intense. My skull throbs, not inside but outside, and when I reach back and brush my fingers across my head, they touch warm liquid. I bring my hand forward and stare at the red on my fingers, confused until I remember that Father David ripped a handful of my hair out by the roots.
The grunt that resonates behind me is the combination of a painful groan and the sound of air whooshing out of someone’s body.
I roll onto my side and blink at the scene in front of me. Father David and Jared are in the midst of a struggle, but I can’t tell who’s winning. They both look like the fight is taking all the strength they have, and I’m hopeful the damage I did to Father David has evened the playing field. I’m not foolish enough to think he doesn’t have an edge, though. Jared’s body has been abused and neglected for days, and the little bit of food he had in the house won’t be enough to restore him to the way he was before he was tossed into that cellar.
We’re going to need to work together.
I push myself up to a sitting position, and the room tilts. The pulsing in my head increases, and I have to work hard to focus so I can think about what I need to do next.
I have to help Jared.
We had a knife, but it flew across the room when Father David pushed Jared to the ground, and I don’t know what happened to it.
I have to find it. Have to get my hands on it or on the one Father David had so Jared and I stand a chance. I know I can’t kill this man, no matter what he’s done to me, but maybe I can use it to incapacitate him. Threaten him or even wound him just enough to give us the advantage. It’s the only thing I can think to do, especially with my head pounding the way it is and the constant grunts Jared seems to be letting out.