The 7

by Kerri Ann

  As the final spasms shudder my earthly form, a knock at the door surprises me. No one bothers me in the residence. It’s been expressly requested that once I retire, I am to be left alone.

  The door creaks open. “Father, we need you.”

  Scrambling to clear up my ritual evening activity, the person I’d hoped would never enter has.

  “Oh. Father? I’m...” Averting her gaze, Scarlet’s voice is one of shock and pain before she gathers her composure. “I’m sorry, truly, but we need you immediately in the church.”

  Wiping down my arm and leg, pulling up my trousers, I rise from the floor, directing my attention fully upon her. “What is so important that you had to interrupt me in residence after hours, Ms. Grady?” Addressing her formally, her demeanor changes drastically.

  “Father, if you’re finished with your…” Looking over my shoulder at the dinner laid out on a tray, “meal, we could use you for a poor soul that will need the last rites granted.”

  Garnering my composure, gathering up my cassock and tippet, I follow Scarlet out to prepare a soul to meet its maker.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ~

  WALKING IN, THE CHAPEL IS filled with bikers from Bracken’s Broken Bows. They range in age from elders, to those that are considered newer recruits. Some are men and women that I’ve known since childhood, while others are unknown to me—unfaithful, unrepentant members of society. The worst of the worst. Dangerous to anyone that is not of their credence. Faith only resides in the motto of the club; you stand by your brothers at all costs.

  Checking to make sure I’m still following her into the chapel, Scarlet stops at the font, crossing herself with the blessing of God. Doing the same, approaching the mass of hardened career offenders, I wait for them to part like the Dead Sea of old. Nodding to a few of them, they tip their heads or growl as I pass. There’s no lost love with some. To most, I betrayed the club, venturing far afield.

  Looking to the makeshift pallet, the man I’d hoped to never set eyes on again rests near death. Stopping, glaring at a few men in the crowd, I search out Bracken.

  Finding him kneeling to the side, holding the hand of the dying man, I ask crassly, “Why? Why bring him here?”

  “Do not all God’s children deserve a chance at redemption?” Tossing my words back in my face, Bracken’s face shows mirth and mischief.

  I ignore his quip. “Why send Scarlet?”

  “Because I knew you’d tell me to piss off.”

  “You’re damn right I would!” Covering my mouth after swearing in the house of God, I despise myself for the reactions that Bracken pulls from me unbidden.

  Softening at the loss of my composure, Bracken stands to his full height. “Be Father Kyden. Don’t be DG’s son right now.”

  He’s reminding me that the Devil’s Guide, or DG as he’s known in the club, is the man laid out in front of me, the retired president of the Broken Bows. Quint Madox, my father.

  Without a word, turning from the group and venturing to the altar, I bend down on the kneeling bench to pray. “Kyden!” Bracken calls out, but I continue my course.

  “Father, Almighty God. Please give me the strength to send this soul to your bosom. In my heart, I know he has not been a good catholic son to you. He has been willful, monstrous in his actions toward others, and with pure malice in his heart which has damaged all those in his care. Grant me the power to do as you bid. In Christ’s name, O’ Lord. Amen.” Rising with a renewed fortitude of purpose, brushing down my outfit, I walk back to those waiting. Scarlet stands just at the edge of those gathered, ready to speak an apology.

  “It’s fine, Scarlet. I know the pressures of this family. You did what you had to. I don’t fault you.” Smiling weakly at her, I sidestep the remainder of this pallid funeral as they allow me to pass.

  Looking down at Quint, I see the damage. He has multiple gunshots wounds to his chest, where blood bubbles out of the holes. With any other member, they’d have taken them to the hospital or had their resident doc come by to patch him up. Quint has been dying of lung cancer, and in no way will this end well.

  Pulling the small vial of holy water from my pocket, I start the final rites on my patriarch. “I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of Heaven and Earth. And in Jesus, his only begotten Son; our Lord…” Pausing, I take a deep breath. My will leaves me. Why is it that my family can direct me to do their bidding in such a way that I feel obligated when I know in my soul it isn’t right? I should’ve left here. I should have left town to work in a new area with new souls to help. But it felt best to help those that I knew of their troubles.

  Stopping, I stand upright and bend at the waist, speaking loud enough for his lost soul to hear. “I contain the power to send your soul on, but not the heart to send such a damned one as this to the gates of anywhere but hell. You were an asshole in life, and in death I hope that your maker takes pity on you as you reach his gates.” Tossing the holy water as I should, I’ve given him the best rites I can. “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

  Seeing him staring blankly, searching for absolution from me, the satisfaction of knowing his eternal damnation was mine to provide gives me a sense of peace. Hearing the last breath leave the chest of someone so inherently evil, I relish the penance it will take to combat this egregious failure in my task.

  “Goodbye.” I spin on my heel and turn toward the exit, when Bracken’s voice carries across the space.

  “Goodbye? The only thing you can say to your father is goodbye?” Yelling it questioningly, I can hear the pain lace each word. “How the fuck—”

  “Brace!” one of the older men calls out.

  “Don’t, Sights!” Stomping away from Sights, his heavy jackboots rattle the floor. “This has nothing to do with you or the club, so kiss my fucking ass, old man. This has everything to do with my brother.”

  Coming to me, standing in my space, the fire breathes within Bracken as his hatred and sadness blends into a twisted sense of loyalty to a sick fucking example for a father. “Fuck you, Kyden. Fuck you and the pious bullshit you tout. Your God All-fucking-Mighty tasked you with sending souls onto the next world with compassion, penance, and fairness. Where is your fairness when you don’t grant the final rites?”

  “Bracken, you and I know better than all these men. He wasn’t worthy of a path to God’s gates. Hell’s doors were wide open. They had a cool whiskey in hand and a pack of drunken whores lined up to suck his cock.” After tonight, and the shameful words I’ve spewed, the gates have been opening up ever so slightly for me as well.

  Laughing hard, Bracken’s voice carries around the rafters. “Still a son of a bitch.”

  Standing toe-to-toe, the two of us are perfectly matched in size and height. I’ll not give him the satisfaction of causing me further grief this night.

  Turning, I walk away from him and the other deadened souls, calling over my shoulder, “Close the doors on your way out. I’d hate to let trouble enter into the house of God.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ~

  RETURNING TO MY RESIDENCE TOOK longer than I’d hoped. Instead of returning straight away, I ventured out into the extensive gardens to take in God’s beauty.

  At night, the rich greens and once vibrant reds become muted. A white is cream, or a soft green becomes harsh and jagged. Red is black, exactly how my soul is at this moment—charred and tainted, without care, and not an ounce of compassion. He had no right to the steps of God’s kingdom, right?

  Sending Scarlet to fetch me was dirty and underhanded. It shouldn’t surprise me that Bracken did it. He only does what’s best for Bracken and the Bows.

  Growing up as boys in the club, we saw, did, and learned far more than any other prepubescent adolescent should. By the time we hit ten, both of us had vetted out retribution to those who deserved to learn a valuable lesson. The lesson being, even a child can be dark and deceitful if trained correctly. My first tortured soul was before
I even grew pubic hair. The second was smoother. The third, and the consecutive ones that followed were praised. It felt good to be wanted by the club. Until her.

  DG knew that she was in our class at school. She’d only just transferred in a few months before, but she’d caught the eyes of the Madox boys. Her stockbroker parents worked in a high-stakes firm. DG thought that stocks would be a great front for filtering the profits of his seediest ventures. He didn’t voice that to us, though. That was a secret until we were older. Being young men in a club didn’t allow us entrance to club’s church meetings, even if he was our father. We followed the requests as they were presented without question, hoping to one day gain entrance to the most sacred parts of the organization.

  Knowing what the club was in to wasn’t a secret, as everyone knew. Even our classmates knew that you didn’t cross the Madox boys, or any member of the Broken Bows. We had a family behind us that would break the bones of anyone who did us wrong. Scarlet was naive to that life. Moving into the area, learning secondhand what club life and loyalty meant, Scarlet crossed paths with a few of the girls. Girls you didn’t cross. With a nasty scar on her stomach to prove it, the valuable lesson was learned fast—make us your friend.

  As a girl she was gangly, almost as tall as Brace and I, and could dish out honesty like a sharp blade. I fell in love, hard and fast. Sure, Bracken tried on more than one occasion to gain entrance to her well-guarded heart, but it was no use. We may look identical, but our demons are as different as a house cat is to a tiger. Sadly, both can be lethal to their prey.

  She told me that she’d seen something in him that was too dark to redeem. Right then, I’d thought it was an odd response as we were the same in so many ways. Now, I understand the connotation. His demons blaze hot, never resting. Mine have cooled, no thanks to her.

  On this one stinking, hot summer day, we were more interested in pools, beaches, and bikinis. DG requested us for a mission. Her parents were still pushing the club off, and they’d added security detail to Scar and themselves. With our access to her, he wanted us to remind them who ran the show in town.

  As classes ended for the day, something was different. Normally, we’d walk her home with her detail hot on our heels. There was no detail. DG had us distracting her for a few hours to make her parents worry, just to scare them. But there was more to it. Unbeknownst to me, Bracken was in on a special plan. Passing one of the abandoned buildings we always walked by, Brace thought to detour through the wrecked shell. I thought we were only going to keep her away, no harm no foul. No.

  “See that?” Brace asked.

  She checked out the window he pointed to. “I don’t see anything, Brace.” His smirk told me that his dark angel had a plan brewing.

  “Come on. We’ll only be a few minutes. I swear I saw someone inside.”

  “There’s always people in there, B. Let’s just get home. My parents will wonder where I am,” Scarlet stated, trying to walk away toward home.

  Grasping her arm tight, Bracken was determined to make her go where he wanted. As always, I followed along. Never one to go against him, I followed without fault.

  Trying to appease Brace and calm Scarlet’s fears, I said, “Come on, Scar. It’ll only be a few minutes. No one will be there. We’ll go out the back door and make it home before anyone even knows we’re missing.”

  Even then, Scarlet knew that she owned my heart. I might have been a malicious fuck, but I was hers from the start. Tall, dark perfection. Attitude to rival even us, never afraid to go toe-to-toe with girls if she felt they were wrong, and sassy sarcasm that would end an argument.

  “Fine, but let’s get out of here soon. Last thing I want is rabies.” Taking my hand in one of hers and Bracken’s in the other, the three of us walked into the dark building.

  The dim light of day waned through the shattered windows, casting shadows on the floor. We’d never gone in there before, but it didn’t stop us from wanting to explore it. At least, that’s what I thought. Brace’s idea was different.

  Partially built mannequins were strewn around the area, looking like dismembered bodies after a war, with dirt covering the faces. Funny enough, a few had clothes on them. Someone had turned the space into an odd fashion show, lining them up and down in rows, with torsos laid out on the floor. With the heads just out of reach, it looked as if the arms were grasping for the rolling orbs. “Brace, this is creepy as shit. Can we just go, please?” Visibly bothered by the macabre scene, Scarlet started for the door. I found it was soothing in an unsettling way. Dead bodies were never an issue for me as I’d seen my fair share from an early age.

  “Come on. You’re not scared, are you, Scar? We’re just going to have a little fun.” Kicking the head closest, the noise bounced off the wall with a sickly clunk. Grabbing up a body, Brace moved around with his dance partner.

  “Let loose, girl.” Dropping the body, he pulled Scarlet into his arms and shifted her around the space.

  Watching the two of them laughing, Scarlet finally started to have fun. Twirling, spinning back and forth toward Brace, her infectious laughter filled the space. I always found her laugh a perfect blend of sweet and innocent.

  “B, you dance like shit.”

  “Do not. You have no rhythm, woman.” Dipping quickly, her long hair swept the ground, disturbing the dust.

  “I’ll bet Kyden dances way better than you do.”

  “Not likely,” I said, pulling up a seat on a somewhat clean bench as I watched them continue on.

  Slowing down, moving to a different beat, Bracken’s hands searched under Scarlet’s shirt. Exploring her back, she peeled his hands down before he raised them again. Unclasping her bra, his steps ceased. Kissing her neck, pulling her in tight, his hands explored the front of her shirt as she protested.

  “I’m not in for that, B. Stop.” She tried to reattach her bra as she backed away. But he was stronger, and more determined.

  “Let’s have fun, shall we?” Pulling at the top, he lifted it up and dipped his head to suck on her tit. I watched in absolute wonder as her body stiffened, but his became driven by need.

  “No, Bracken, don’t do this. You’ll regret it. Please,” she pleaded as Bracken held her so tight that she couldn’t refuse. Even as Scarlet tried to move away, I saw him become more determined. Holding her by the jeans with one hand and grasping her by the neck with the other, I wondered how far he would go.

  To me, the milky brown skin of Scarlet was mesmerizing. Watching with a detached interest, only wondering what the rest of her body would be like, jealousy of his boldness coursed through me as I watched. I was a voyeur as he took what he wanted from her.

  “Ky, aren’t you going to join in?” Brace asked. Snapping me from my vacant musings, I looked to Scarlet. Her face showed pain, fear, and hope. Hope that I would help her.

  We weren’t naive when it came to women’s bodies, and we never had to force someone into it. There was enough club pussy to slake anyone’s needs. Being nearly sixteen, DG gave us each a present two months ago; a pair of club sluts to show us what it meant to be men. Even then, my cock was revved up as I watched what Bracken was doing to Scarlet.

  The difference was that I’d always wanted it willingly from her.

  “Bracken, let’s go home. Scarlet doesn’t want that, man.”

  “’Course she does. Don’t kid yourself, she’s always wanted us. Who doesn’t want to fuck us? You do, don’t you, Scar?” Unbuckling her jeans, he forced his hand in. Scarlet slapped him hard across the face.

  “Fuck off, Bracken! I don’t want you.” Pushing hard against his chest, she stepped back. A blaze of fire screamed through Bracken’s features.

  “Tsk tsk. This is what happens when you go against the club. Tell your parents about this and it won’t go any better on them. Don’t you want your family safe, Scar? Give me what I want and I’ll tell DG you were a good little cunt.”

  She looked at him in shock. “No, Bracken, don’t do what DG wants.” Plead
ing, tears fell down her cheeks. “We’re friends. Don’t do this.”

  “You don’t get a choice. Now, do you want me in your cunt or ass? Either way, you get a Madox in you.” Sneering darkly, Brace looked at me. “Come over here, brother. You get first choice if she doesn’t choose. Front or back? We’re test driving this model first.”

  Pressing his body into hers, backing her against a table, I watched with a sick fascination. Yes, I’d wanted her. Yes, she was all I thought about as I slapped my cock alone at night, but I’d never wanted her unwillingly. “No. I don’t want—”

  “Don’t fucking lie to me! I know you, Kyden. You want her just as bad as I do. Right now, she has no choice unless she wants to be an orphan.”

  “No. Stop, Brace. Let’s just go home. Tell dad a story, act like we did it. Leave her alone.”

  Laughing loudly, the proverbial screws pulled loose in his head. I knew when the darkness broke free and his demons overrode all his actions. There was no stopping Bracken.

  “No way. I’m following through. You can leave now, ignoring her screams as I tear her apart, or you can stay and enjoy her sweet, virgin pussy.” Yanking at her shirt, lifting it so that her arms were tied in, Bracken pushed her to lie down on the dusty, trash covered table.

  “No, Bracken! No! Please, stop!” Fighting against him, Scarlet’s cries fell on deaf ears.

  He smacked her across the face, hard. “This’ll go easier on you if you just relax and let it happen, yeah?”

  My cock hardened as I watched. I felt horrible that it did. I’d wanted her ever since she’d arrived. My dreams and waking hours had been plagued with thoughts of what it would be like with Scarlet. Looking at me, pleading with her eyes to stop my brother, I turned and ran from the building. I never looked back.

  Still thinking of that day, it reminds me of the reasons for entering the seminary and leaving our family business. In no way did I escape that moment in time unscathed. My heart and soul was never really theirs. I found no joy in the tunings, the shakedowns, or the scare tactics of the club. I just couldn’t do it. Running away at seventeen, I ran straight into the arms of God and his teachings.