by H. D. Gordon
And he wanted her. No, he had to have her.
Until tomorrow night, he thought, and knew by the feelings stirring in his stomach that a trip to The Closet would soon be necessary. He could not let his more lowly desires make him lower his guard. He had to remember they were watching him, trying to infiltrate his Family and rip them away from him. He had to remember that anyone could be a spy for the dirty, scheming government that was out to get him and his good people, even a temptress with silver-blue eyes.
As images of the things he would love to do to the new girl named Joe skated through his head and lifted his heart rate along with the pitiful thing in his pants, he knew a trip to The Closet was on the horizon, indeed.
Before he took her, he would need to make sure she could be trusted, because while he knew she wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box, there was something…peculiar about the girl altogether, leaving him struggling to make an immediate assessment, which was something that didn’t happen often. One of his greatest gifts was the ability to evaluate other people. Despite her obvious disability and demure behavior, Ron Reynolds got a gut feeling that Joe was more than she seemed, more than the rest of the world saw her. The feeling had no explanation, and didn’t need one. Feelings never needed explanations as far as Ron Reynolds was concerned. He had some killer instincts—in every sense of the words—and he was a man who followed them.
His instincts told him there was some untapped talent in the strange-eyed girl, the same way he’d known there was something special about Dorie Dunham all those years ago, and look how useful she had turned out to be.
The only thing he needed to find out was whether or not he could use Joe’s gifts, whatever they were, for his benefit, if she could be trusted to join the Family, if she would…drink the Kool-Aid, so to speak. Because if she would, he could think of a few ways he’d like her to benefit him already.
In short, he had chosen her, and she didn’t know how lucky she was yet.
But she would know soon enough.
Chapter 23
Joe
When we got back to my apartment it was nearing ten o’clock. The service had started at six and lasted almost three hours. To me, that alone would dissuade my membership, but by the way the crowd had still been buzzing as we left the ranch, I knew I was in the minority with those feelings as well.
I wasn’t surprised to see Mr. Landry and Kyle both waiting for us when Michael and I climbed the stairs to the second floor landing that housed both mine and the old man’s apartment. When they saw us, looks of obvious relief filled their faces, and I couldn’t help a smile, even though I hadn’t really slept well for the past couple nights and was acutely exhausted. I figured I may as well enjoy the feeling of having others care enough to worry about me. Especially since I’d decided the three of them were unknowingly about to be cut out of the operation.
This was information I couldn’t think about just yet, not with Mr. Landry around, so I shoved it out of my mind.
“How’re you doing?” Mr. Landry asked, speaking only in my head.
It was funny how easily I’d taken to his way of communicating. Silently, I said, “Fine, just really tired for some reason. You?”
Mr. Landry coughed into a handkerchief. It was something he had been doing a lot as of late, but I had yet to press him on it. I figured if something was wrong he would tell me. At least, I would hope that was the case.
“Don’t you worry about me,” was his response, and I blushed as I realized he’d been listening in just then. Mr. Landry looked at the guys and said, “Why don’t you boys go on home now? We can reconvene tomorrow night, after all of you get off work or school or whatever it is you do when you’re not looking for trouble.”
Kyle, who’d surely been eager to hear about our trip to the church, opened his mouth to protest, but the old man beat him to the punch. He placed his hand on Kyle’s shoulder and nodded toward me. “She’s exhausted, son,” he said. “We’re gonna figure this thing out and get your sister, but Joe here needs to be at her strongest if you want her help. Besides, I already shared my experience tonight with you, and chances are mine came with the most insights.”
I flashed Mr. Landry a quick look of appreciation. While I felt bad sending Kyle away, and also was eager to hear the old man’s “insights”, what I really wanted was to take a shower and lie in bed listening to music until sleep dragged me under. I wanted to quiet my mind, clear it of all its trouble…while I was still in a position to do so.
I took Kyle’s hand. “Tomorrow muh-morning?”
Kyle gave me a weary smile that told me he was just as tired as I was, maybe more, and nodded. He pulled me into a hug, and I whispered in his ear that he should get some sleep, because we were going to fix things and save Kayla. He seemed relieved as he waved goodbye, as if he truly believed I was capable enough to avert the coming disaster. I sighed internally. At least that made one of us.
Mr. Landry took that as his cue and told us good night, and I stood out on the landing with Michael in semi-awkward silence. I’d had so much on my mind, I hadn’t really had too much time to think about what was happening between him and me. I wasn’t stupid; I knew we both liked each other, but I was inexperienced. I didn’t have the slightest clue about where we stood.
In that way he had, I could tell he was reading my emotions by whatever tiny indicators he was so apt at picking up from others, and he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me, resting his chin on the top of my head while I laid my head against his chest. It was a wonder to me how Michael always seemed to know exactly what I needed, even if I didn’t know I needed it. I closed my eyes and listened to his steady heartbeat as I took comfort in his hold.
I knew I should tell him to go, not just home right now, but go on with his life. I understood perfectly well how selfish I was being by letting him be dragged into this deadly, dreadful situation. I knew that if I really cared about him, I would tell him his feelings for me—whatever they were—were unrequited and he needed to stay away from me. I knew I had to, even if it hurt my heart in a place I’d never known was capable of hurting, a place I hadn’t even known existed.
I sighed, breathing his scent in one last time before I said these things that needed to be said, but when I tried to pull out of his arms, he held fast to me. He kept me wrapped up in his secure embrace, but he lifted his head and pulled back a little to look at me. His hand came up and tucked some of my dark hair behind my ear, making me shiver a bit despite the heat of the late summer evening, and his light brown eyes met mine square.
“No,” he said, his handsome face serious. When I raised an eyebrow in question, he continued, “No, I’m not going to stay out of this, and no, you’re not going to get rid of me.” He paused, and I could see the apprehension in his eyes before he said what he said next. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I did that?”
All my talk about doing the right thing did nothing to keep the corners of my lips from drawing up into a smile, but at the same time, I could feel unshed tears building in my eyes. Michael was too good for me, too pure, right down to his soul. I was a girl from a terrible family, who’d dropped out of college last semester, and was half-mad a good portion of the time because of my visions. I carried more baggage with me than those conveyer belts at the airport. Also, I was a killer. I’d taken Daniel Deaton’s life, and now, I was seriously contemplating killing another man, depending on if I could work out the logistics. Just because the person I’d killed was a killer as well didn’t make much difference in my eyes. Any court in the country would agree with me there. But, Michael…he was innocent and privileged. He was handsome, charming, smart and wealthy. He had his whole life ahead of him, while mine was a struggle to just live every day.
There were all sorts of reasons I wouldn’t be able to get these words out fluently right then, so I tried my best to tell him all of this with my eyes. It would make this whole situation a lot easier if he weren’t so darn stubborn. I opened my mout
h, not knowing what was going to come out, but he cut off whatever it was by bringing his lips down to mine.
Now, I’d kissed boys before. Twice, actually. Once in fourth grade, when Sue Brandon had dared me to kiss Luke Peterson, and again in eleventh grade, after my junior prom, when Brice Tinton dropped me off at my door at the end of the night. I’m sure that made me a late-bloomer by most people’s standards, but my lack of experience never really bothered me because both times had left me wondering what all the fuss was about.
When Michael kissed me for the first time, I finally understood exactly what all the fuss was about, and what I’d been missing. His lips were soft and gentle, and they burned where they touched mine. His hand came around to the small of my back and his touch lit more fire there as he pulled me closer to him, our bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. The world disappeared, dragging space and time and thought away with it. Right then, there was no past, no dire future. There was only present. There was only us.
After a moment, while my head was still reeling, it became obvious that his initial contact had been restrained, endearingly unsure, and he kissed me then as if he were a man struggling to breathe, and I was oxygen. His hold on me was so solid it made me forget, if only for a borrowed space in time, how fragile everything was, how easily it could all crumble.
When he pulled back, we were both breathless, and it became painfully clear to me that I had about as much control over the situation between me and Michael as I had over the situation involving the Middle Man.
Michael’s words from last night came back to me then. Sometimes, you have to take the good with the bad. Looking at him, I came to the conclusion that I needed to accept the things I couldn’t change, and that my feelings for him was one of those things.
I’d said I wanted to clear my mind and forget the world tonight, and standing in his arms, it was obvious what the best, most effective way to do that would be. I could feel my cheeks heating up at what I was going to say. “Do you wuh-want—”
I broke off into laughter as Michael nodded his head with comical vigor, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Yes, my beautiful raven-haired girl,” he said, pulling me close once again. “I would love to stay with you for a little bit.”
A little bit ended up being all night. Nothing further happened between us, but I’m pretty sure that in that one night, Michael caught me up as far as experience in kissing boys went. Just as I’d known it would, his presence helped to keep all the bad at bay, and no matter what lay ahead, I was grateful for this.
We fell asleep together in my bed, my head resting on his chest, my soul relaxing to the soft ticking of his heart. I slept well, and didn’t dream, another thing I was grateful for. When I woke up in the morning, the red rose he’d gotten me yesterday was in a thin glass vase at my bedside, and another rose had joined it, this one as white as snow…or crisp sheets. With this thought, all the realities of my world that I’d forced away last night came back to me, and my heart sank.
I brushed my teeth and washed my face. Then I followed my nose into my small kitchen, where Michael was just putting the final touches on a breakfast of pancakes, eggs and bacon. He smiled when he saw me, and I knew right then that what I was planning to do later that night was the right thing, the only thing.
After all, I’d been invited to dinner, and I intended to keep the date. I also intended to keep it to myself. Because while Mr. Landry was right about this cult being made up of mostly sheep, he was wrong about me being one of them.
I wasn’t a sheep. I was a wolf. A lone wolf, and I was about to take on the pack, even if I was devastatingly afraid of its alpha.
You see, I was changing. I was learning that fear wasn’t always a bad thing. Fear was what kept you from following. What I hadn’t learned yet, but would learn soon enough, was that fear was also what could make people keep following.
In fact, I would come to find that fear was the only thing out there that could trump love, and when it did, it was a sickly, shattering sight to be seen.
Chapter 24
Middle Man
He hated this feeling. He hated it so much he wished he could reach through the phone and wrap his hands around the bitch’s throat until he’d squeezed the life out of her. That would teach her some fucking respect.
“Mr. Reynolds, I’m not accusing you of anything. I just think you should know, there are a number of confused family members who just want to be able to speak to their loved ones, loved ones who are with your…organization, as I understand. Do you deny that they are there with you?”
The hand that was holding the phone tightened, his knuckles going as white as his dry lips. Across the room, Dorie was listening in on the line, tape recording the phone conversation. She looked up at him now, her face tight with concern. She was a good little soldier, one of his best. He held his free hand up in a gesture that said everything was okay, and put on a smile meant for the same effect. It calmed her visibly, but the fire rushing through his veins was going full force.
“How can I deny something if you’re not accusing me of anything, Ms. Ross?” he said, his voice deceptively calm and steady. Dorie gave him a thumbs up at this clever response, and he winked at her in return.
He heard the bitch sigh over the phone. “Mr. Reynolds, are Beth Johnson and Anna Mendez part of your organization and residents on your ranch?” she asked. “And are they being held there against their will? Are you advising them not to have contact with their families?”
The fingernails on the hand that wasn’t holding the phone were digging into his palm hard enough to draw blood, and now instead of strangling her, the appealing vision of bashing in the bitch’s skull was skating through his head.
“Ms. Ross,” he said, “Heaven’s Temple is a church, not an organization, and I can assure you, no one is being held here against their will or being persuaded of anything. Obviously, you have nothing substantial to write about, so I suggest you stop fishing in an empty pond and put your skills to use elsewhere.” He paused and winked at Dorie again. “Tell me, Ms. Ross, has your soul been saved?”
The bitch didn’t miss a beat. She pretended as though he hadn’t even asked a question, which did wicked wonders to the rage he was feeling. This thing would need to be dealt with. The last thing he needed was an exposé full of lies from outsiders about the church in The Kansas City Sun. No, he couldn’t let that happen.
“Well, then,” the bitch said, “I don’t suppose you’ll have any issues with opening your gates so I could come in and have a look around? I don’t suppose you’d be opposed to letting a few concerned family members come in with me? Just to make sure everything is as it should be.”
This bitch was a child of Eve, alright. No, she was the incarnation of the ill-willed fucking temptress. He took a brief moment to consider his response. He had every right to tell her the Ranch was private property, and that since the three individuals she’d mentioned were all legal adults, they had no obligation to speak with their families—which, he knew, Beth and Anna had no desire to do so, anyway. Those two were some of his good little soldiers as well. Newer recruits than some of the others, but loyal nonetheless.
Then again, it would raise the suspicions of all the government spies who were hanging around in the shadows all the time if he were to deny her request outright. He knew what to do.
“Ms. Ross,” he said. “I welcome you to come to my Ranch, say tomorrow at noon, and I will let you come in and talk to the people whom you seem so desperately concerned about, and you can ask them yourself about their welfare. If they tell you they want to leave with you and go see their families, no one will stop them. But some of the people here come from abusive families, and have sought refuge with the church. I can’t let their ‘loved ones’ in if they don’t want them here. You be here at noon tomorrow and ask them yourself if that’s what they want. Until then, good day, Ms. Ross, and may the Lord be with you.”
He didn’t wait to hear her response. He
gently set the phone down on the receiver on his desk and leaned back in his chair, exhibiting a calm he in no way felt. Dorie shut off the tape recorder and came to his side immediately, kneeling in front of his chair and taking his hands in hers. She blinked up at him with hazel eyes lined with concern.
“What are we going to do, Father?” she asked. “Why would that evil woman say such things?” Her chin lifted in an indignant way that made his dry lips curve up. “Tell me what I can do to help you fight this evil,” she said. “That woman has to be stopped.”
He placed his palm against her cheek, his thumb skimming over the wrinkles that had not been there when he’d met her nearly fifteen years ago. Dorie was no longer as young, as fresh as some of the others, but she was loyal beyond question. He smiled down at her lovingly.
“Don’t you fear that woman, child,” he said. “The devil is always clawing at heaven’s gate, but his ways have no power here. The bitch will be stopped. She’ll be stopped when she comes in and Beth and Anna tell her to get on her merry fucking way.”