by Lily White
Full sun beamed through the window and I narrowed my eyes against it. God's warmth met my face, the glow filling my body until I was light as air.
Not wanting to upset Elijah after the promise he made me, I waited for him to come get me like he has every morning since I've been here. But seconds turned to minutes. Minutes turned to an hour. And my bladder was screaming for me to rush to the bathroom.
I couldn't wait any longer, not without making a mess of the floor.
Elijah never demanded I stay in my room in the mornings. He'd never given any instructions for how to behave when in this place other than the efforts I had to go through to prove to him I wouldn't run again.
Throwing the blanket off me, I stood from the bed and grabbed the robe Elijah had given me the first night I was here. I slipped in and walked to the door.
The door wasn't fully closed, so I pulled it open slowly to peek my head into the hall. Elijah wasn't in sight, and the building was as quiet as a tomb. Slowly padding barefoot down the dark, narrow hall, I pushed doors open as I passed, but couldn't find a bathroom close by. I also didn't remember the way Elijah had led me the two times we'd walked between his bedroom and mine.
Wondering if I'd remember the turns if I saw them, I kept wandering hallways, turning left and right. When I walked by one particular door, his voice called out.
"Eve."
My head spun right to find him seated behind a desk, pen in hand and papers spread out over the surface of the desk. A pair of thin rimmed glasses were perched on his nose, but I couldn't remember ever seeing him wear them before.
"What are you doing?"
Dropping the pen and taking off the glasses, Elijah stood up. Rather than the button down shirt with the odd white collar he normally wore with black pants, he was in a short sleeve black t-shirt and loose black pants. Although the color hadn't changed, I'd never seen him in informal clothes before.
I stepped into the office and cinched the robe over my body. "Looking for a bathroom," I said softly, worry still coursing through me about whether he'd be mad that I left the room.
He shook his head and moved around the desk toward me. "Yes, of course, I apologize. I didn't know you were awake. There's one a little ways down the hall. I'll show you."
Throwing his arm around my shoulder, he led me out. We walked silently past two doors before he reached around me to push open another door on my left. It wasn't the same as where he'd taken me to bathe, just a small room with a toilet and sink.
"Take all the time you need. I'll wait in the hall to escort you to the kitchen for breakfast."
I moved to walk inside, but turned back. There was no telling what came over me, but I stepped up toward Elijah until we were chest to chest. With his height, I had to push up on tiptoes to barely look him in the eye. My mouth hovered inches from his as his silver-blue eyes studied mine. His breath beat against my face, quickening as I leaned even closer. But at the moment my lips would have brushed his, he turned his head.
"I can't kiss you, Eve," he whispered. "Not because of something you've done, but because I'm a devout man."
"It hasn't stopped you before," I said against his cheek.
"It should have."
He stepped back, his gaze lifting to catch mine. "We should talk, but let's do so over food, okay?"
I nodded my head, my heart shattering into a million pieces as I lowered my heels to the floor. "Okay."
It didn't take long for me to use the bathroom and just as silently as he'd walked me there from his office, he walked me to the kitchen. Pulling a seat from the table, he indicated for me to sit down.
He didn't say a word as he pulled food from a refrigerator and pans from a cabinet. Flame jumped over the burner on the stove and he placed a heavy iron skillet over it before spooning in butter. Even while waiting for the pan to heat, he didn't look at me, didn't speak to me, he simply kept his eyes trained on that pan as if it were the most interesting thing in this room.
Unable to endure the silence, I broke it with the first question that came to mind. "What were you writing?"
His gaze flicked to mine, torment dancing behind the clear, blue color. It was a moment of connection that made my heart burst open, but he turned back within a second, the warming pan more important than me.
"I was writing the homily for Sunday Mass tomorrow."
The word homily was foreign to me, but not Mass. I'd been told about that, the process described to me in detail. Hope was a hint of light fracturing through me. "Mass is tomorrow?"
Another glance.
Another rejection.
"Yes," he answered while breaking eggs into the pan.
"What's a homily?"
"It's a discussion of scripture, a message to the weak and weary."
My eyes widened just a bit, my heart daring to beat faster. "Like a sermon?"
His eyes darted in my direction. "You've heard a sermon before?"
He must have been testing me before the last act he'd instructed me to perform. There was no other reason for the odd question, or the soul shattering distance he was placing between us. "Yes. I've listened to every sermon you've given."
He bit out a harsh word under his breath, picked up a spatula and flipped the eggs in the pan. Time passed as that overwhelming silence drifted back in. Only the frying eggs could be heard.
Without looking at me, Elijah said, "Tell me about the sermons you've heard me give."
"I can't speak them word for word-"
"A summary is fine."
Pulling my hands into my lap, I stared down at them, pressing the tips of my fingers together until they turned white from the blood rushing out.
I didn't want to discuss sermons, or anything else for that matter. I just wanted to know what happened between last night and now to make him so distant and morose.
"Is something wrong? Have I done something wrong?"
The spatula slapped against the pan, greasy butter splashing up that made him jump back and curse beneath his breath. Grabbing a napkin from the counter, he moved to clean it up, his voice angry and impatient when he said, "Just tell me about the sermons, Eve."
Flinching in response to the bite in his voice, I folded my hands together, wringing them so hard the skin burned.
"God created the Earth for man," I began, trying to remember the important parts, the instructions the family lived by in order to avoid falling into evil. "But man was sinful and disobeyed God. Every man and woman disobeys."
Even me, I thought. No matter how hard I try to please Elijah, to do everything he asks of me, I still forget. I still disobey. And only I could be blamed for the way he treated me now.
Elijah lifted the pan to slide the eggs onto plates. Placing it back on the stove, he threw in strips of meat, a sizzle and pop rising up with a smell that was heavenly. "Go on."
"So the Devil gained dominion of the Earth because he'd tricked man into sinning. He tempted man with woman, because women are the most sinful of all. We're weak and we need men to cast out the sin inside us. We are man's greatest temptation. Our bodies are built for sin."
His jaw ticked in response to what I said, but it was his only response, the only indication he was listening.
"So, God sent Christ down to help man, but Christ chose the Kingdom of Heaven as his home. He abandoned mankind when he died. He left us in the Devil's dominion."
Whatever he was cooking sizzled more. Hot grease splattered out of the pan onto his hand leaving red marks where it hit. He didn't even bother moving his hand away from where the grease kept popping and burning him. "Keep going," he demanded, sharp anger edging his voice.
"So, God sent another Christ. And that Christ will eradicate sin and teach us to fight it. To destroy it if we believe in him."
Elijah's eyes met mine, his lips pulling into a thin line, rage wrinkling his brow. "Eli-" He stopped, his hand curling into a fist over the counter. "I told you that?"
I nodded my head, too scared to speak because of t
he way he looked at me.
"And who is the new Christ?"
"You," I whispered.
His fist slammed down onto the counter. "That son of a bitch," he mumbled as he turned his back to me.
A tendril of smoke weaved up from the pan, growing thicker as a bitter smell spread through the kitchen. Elijah turned to look at the food inside it, another curse word barked softly over his lips. Grabbing the handle he threw the pan - food and all - into the sink. Steam rose up from the heat as soon as the pan clattered against the metal.
Picking up one of the plates he'd prepared, he dropped it on the table and walked toward the door.
My heart sank into my stomach, filling it so full I didn't want the food sitting in front of me. "Aren't you going to eat?" I called out.
He didn't bother stopping. "I have work to do and I'm not hungry."
Elijah made a right into the hall, but the sound of retreating footsteps stopped suddenly. When they approached again, he only came in as far as the doorway. We stared at each other for a few seconds, not a word being said while I looked to him for comfort and he could barely stand to look at me at all.
"You're going to stay in my room with me tonight."
There it was, the comfort I needed, the reminder that whatever he was doing now had nothing to do with the promises he made the night before.
"I'll sleep on the floor so you can have the bed. I won't share the bed with you, Eve. And you can't sleep on the floor with me. If you try, I'll have to ask you to leave entirely. What happened between us last night can't happen again."
As quickly as that, the comfort was gone. Confusion slid in to take its seat on the throne, kicking its legs up to relax back because it had no intention of leaving.
"Okay," I answered on a tremulous breath.
"Once you're done eating, I'll take you to find some clothes that will fit, and then you can sit in my office for the rest of the day while I work."
Nodding, I blinked to chase off the tears that threatened.
He nodded back before turning to walk away.
His tests would be the end of me, I was sure of it. So close one second, just to force me away, I felt like a rubber ball being bounced by a bored child, the loud thumps it made counting down until the moment he found another toy that would amuse him.
The pain of that thought sliced through me, only to twist and turn so it could shred me from the inside out.
My hope sank into a turbulent sea, clinging desperately to the island Elijah had given me with the last promise he made. I had one last task to perform, and he had warned me that it would be a bitter road to that task. I would doubt, he'd promised. I would struggle in my faith. But if I held on, if I clung hard enough, he would reward me in the end.
JACOB
For a righteous man falls seven times and rises up again; but the wicked are overthrown by calamity. Proverbs 24:16
Sedra sat in my office silent as a mouse for the remainder of the day. Hours passed as I finished the homily. When done, I turned my attention to other matters that would keep my attention off the woman seated facing me, and the pictures tucked away in my desk that were still very much in mind despite being out of sight.
Every so often, I'd lift my gaze to look at Sedra to find her curled up in a seat, her hands playing over the cross necklace dangling down over the large t-shirt I'd given her to wear. My sweatpants had been too big for her, so I'd given her a pair of my boxers to wear beneath the shirt. It left her legs exposed for my wandering eye, the shirt so thin I could easily see the fullness of her breasts.
I had to rip my eyes away from her each and every time I dared look up. She was so beautiful, so easily available, and so dangerous to me that it was as if the serpent itself sat in front of me, the forbidden fruit held snugly between its jaws.
Just a taste, Jacob.
You own me, Jacob...
I need to confess...
The present was leaking into the past, setting me on a collision course with tragedy, and with the man I'd been before surrendering myself to God.
I knew well how that serpent was laughing. While I was trying to deny the sinner inside me, I'd walked blindly into his trap.
Jericho's game was making sense to me for once because, in the time I'd taken to sit and stare of the photographs on my desk, in the hours I'd spent watching Sedra sit quietly and obediently before me, the pieces fell together to show me a picture that gave me no chance to escape.
I assumed that Jericho knew I'd attempt to give Sedra back. He must have known that I'd try to force temptation away from me in an effort to save my soul. Had he waited and watched, he would have seen me drive off with her, he would have known it would take two hours at least for me to arrive back to the church. And while I'd been gone, he’d most likely staged the death of Mr. Whitaker, must have grinned as they sent someone to fetch me for prayer.
And where was I? Missing from my station, with no verifiable explanation as to where I'd been.
Except for one possibility, one that could be reported by a girl who thought she'd made love to the priest she'd had a crush on since the day she turned sixteen.
I didn't worry that Jericho had injured or killed Annabelle. That would be too convenient. No. I had every expectation that he intended for her to live, for her to walk into my parish and look at me with accusation behind her eyes.
Even though I hadn't been the one to take her virginity, I still carried the blame for what I knew was to come.
If Annabelle's own guilt wore her down enough, she would go to her parents to admit what she'd done. Those parents would come to me, and what alibi did I have to give them? Only a brainwashed woman who would tell them I left her on the side of the road for a few hours, beat down a man who tried to hurt her, only to bring her home and fingerfuck her against a wall.
That crucifix was still lying on my bedroom floor where it fell, and the serpent had wrapped itself languorously around it.
The only question still remaining was why?
For that answer, I needed to speak to my brother.
Outside my window the sun was setting, ribbons of red, orange and gold painting the sky with God's promise to man. I stared at it wishing the promise could have also been made to me.
"It's getting late," I said, my voice gritty from lack of use. "I'm going to make you something to eat and help you get settled into bed."
Sedra startled at the sound of my voice, her neck wrenched to the left for her eyes to find mine. I looked down at the papers on my desk, still too much of a coward to face what was standing right in front of me.
Her voice filtered across the room regardless, a siren's song meant to draw a man in. "If that's what you want."
It wasn't what I wanted.
No. What I wanted was to spread Sedra across my desk, push her legs apart and taste the sweet nectar of her body just so I could feel powerful in the way she writhed beneath me.
Just so I could listen to the sounds that fell from her lips and know that she would never deny me.
But I was a celibate priest. One who was in danger of crashing down to Earth with the rest of the tormented and damned.
"It's what I want," I ground out behind clenched teeth.
The serpent laughed again.
Pushing to my feet, I didn't bother looking at her when I left the room. I knew she would follow behind me, a playful puppy looking for the one person who would pet it just right. She was the obedient woman that would give without expecting anything in return, that would take whatever beating I wanted to give her because even the pain was better than living without my touch.
I made her a quick meal and waited patiently as she cleaned her plate. Still unable to stomach anything more filling than water, I chose to lean up against a wall in order to avoid sitting across from her. The temptation to reach beneath the table and pull her foot into my lap just so I could grind up against that small part of her was too much to take.
What I'd done to her the night before had
been the spark to ignite a blazing inferno, a fire so hot that not even all of the heavenly angels' combined tears could douse its flames.
I just wondered how many more days I could take of this before I had to admit to myself that Jericho had succeeded in his games.
Her fork clamored against her plate when she dropped it down, her lips wrapping over the rim of a glass of water, the soft pink of her tongue visible against the glass. Setting it down, she turned to me with expectant eyes.
"You ready for bed now?" I asked, trying with everything inside me not to blame the innocent for the weaknesses of the flesh.
Nodding, she stood from her seat and followed me to my bedroom in the rectory. The bed was still a mess from when I'd woken that morning. I hadn't taken to the time to make it, pick up the crucifix or fall to my knees in prayer. The tidy, safe routine I'd made for myself over the years was falling apart at the tattered seams, revealing to me all the stuffing inside filled with my darkness and deceit.
It had always been so easy to make women believe they were exactly what I wanted. And in the end I'd made myself believe the lies that rolled off the silky tongue of a man who should have known better than to think he could deny himself his deviant violence.
"Go ahead and crawl in bed," I said, grabbing the keys to my truck from my desk wondering if the vehicle would even start.
"Where are you going?"
"I have an errand to run."
I didn't give her a chance to respond, just grabbed my shoes and walked outside, waiting until I was alone in the cab to slip them on. Forcing the key in the ignition, I didn't even bother praying the battery wasn’t dead. There was no point. God wasn't listening.
It turned over without a problem, the engine roaring within the dying sunlight, the door slamming shut, as I threw it into reverse and peeled out of the dirt driveway. The one hour drive to Jericho's compound wasn't near enough time for me to calm myself down, the passing miles and silent minutes only serving to build the tension inside me until it felt like I would burst beneath the pressure.