The Fall and Rise of Kade Hart: A Hart Brothers Novel

by A. M. Hargrove

  Sister Helena turns her fury on me. “You have behaved most inappropriately. I am ashamed of you, Emmalia. Go to your room and I will decide what punishment to bestow upon you.”

  With a bowed head, I leave her presence, eager to get away. I don’t know what happened to her in her early days, but whatever it was, it has turned her into a bitter woman who has no compassion for her fellow man. I’m curious as to how the other nuns view her. We never discuss it, but they have to have the same view as I do.

  My room is as depressing as a tomb. Grey cinderblock walls greet me as I enter. Flimsy white curtains that have seen better days hang crookedly over the one small window, but they don’t do much good at keeping the light out. That never bothered me before because I’m always up before daylight. But now, it’s disheartening after staying at Kade’s lovely home. Warmth and coziness emanated from every nook and cranny of his place but here, an arctic numbness seeps into my bones, chilling me more than I thought possible. That is until my gaze lands on my pitiful bed. When I see it, I want to run out of here screaming Kade’s name. The twin bed looks as lonely as a castaway on a deserted island. My skin itches as I imagine how the sheets will irritate it with their roughness. And I shiver at how I know the thin blankets won’t be enough to keep me warm. My butt hits the bed as I wrap my arms around my knees and rock myself, trying to soothe my distress.

  If Sister Helena finds me like this, she’ll really punish me. I have to pull myself together. Giving myself the best pep talk I can muster, I remind myself that Kade is ever present. One call and I can be back with him. But is that what I need or want? No! That’s rushing things. I can’t do that to him or to me. We need to let things work themselves out.

  The screeching of my door opening pulls me out of my musings. Sister Helena stands there with her usual pinched look on her face. But this time it’s worse. Her lips press into a thin line as she stands there slowly shaking her head at me. No scathing words, no berating, nothing but silence, and it hangs heavy in the room. Sister Helena must be in her late sixties. She’s exactly like those nuns you hear of from the olden days, the ones who would dole out corporal punishment like candy, and she’s as unforgiving as stone. I realize this is going to be worse than I anticipated.

  I lock onto her cold-hearted gaze, refusing to back down. She hates this because she adores the authority she has and waves it like a banner whenever she can. Never breaking eye contact, she slowly approaches me and when she gets within inches of me, she starts to circle, like some vicious predator, waiting to attack. Should I be more afraid of her than my shadows? She looks like she wants to eat me for dinner.

  When she’s completed one rotation, her face pokes itself into my neck and she sniffs. She fucking sniffs, like a dog.

  “You reek of him. I could smell him on you when you walked into the convent,” she spits the words out.

  What the hell is she talking about? How can she smell him on me? Does she have Spidey senses or something?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Don’t you dare lie to me, you little hussy. I’ll not have it, not within the sacred walls of this building.” Her voice hits decibels I didn’t think possible. She’s going to have every nun in my room before long.

  “Sister Helena, you need to calm down.”

  “Don’t you dare tell me what I need to do you little tramp. You’re nothing but the devil’s whore.”

  Oh my God! She’s gone batty on me.

  Her taloned hand reaches out and grabs my shirt, pulling it close to her. Now we’re nose to nose, while she rants. “You came in here, begging me to give you a chance. Well I gave it to you, believing all your lies.” And then she full on slaps me. My cheek stings like fire. But she doesn’t stop there. She slaps me again and again. I’m so shocked and addled, I don’t think to stop her. I stand there like some dork who doesn’t know how to defend herself. Finally, she balls up her wrinkled fist and rams it into my cheek. Stars light up my dim room as my head jerks back from the impact. I stagger backwards until I lose my balance and my butt hits the floor.

  “You deserve to be whipped, you little slut. You’d better beg God to forgive your sins. You’re nothing but Satan’s follower.”

  She leaves me lying in a heap. When she slams the door, even though my jaw and cheek are howling with pain, I hear the distinct sound of a lock clicking. The lunatic locked me in my room!

  Dragging myself to my feet, I check to see if it’s true and sure enough, it is. I jiggle and shake it, trying to see if I can somehow open it. It’s useless. Then I pound on the door, screaming and yelling, “Let me out of here. You can’t hold me prisoner! Let me out!”

  I keep repeating the words until my trachea burns and is raw. My fingers tenderly touch my cheek and I find it’s puffy and sore. One thing’s for sure. I need to get the hell out of here, but how am I going to do that?

  The window! I open the shabby curtains to check it out. It’s a possibility, but as I’m looking, the lock clicks and I quickly close them and turn to face whoever is coming.

  When the door opens, it’s not who I feared it would be, but it’s Sister Mary Elizabeth, one of the sweeter nuns, whom I’m fond of. She looks rather sheepish when she enters.

  “Emmalia, Sister Helena sent me—good lord, what happened to your face?”

  I’m angry. Furious, in fact. I would clench my teeth, but I can’t because my freaking jaw hurts too badly. “Maybe you should ask Sister Helena. No wait, I’ll save you the trip. She beat me.”

  “Sister Helena did that?”

  “Yes. I imagine I look a fright.”

  “Indeed. Let me get you some ice.”

  “Don’t you leave me in this God forsaken room. I’m going with you.”

  Her hands fidget, knotting and unknotting each other. I’m in no mood for this.

  “Spit it out, Sister. Now.”

  Her head whips up and I glare at her. I imagine she’s a bit shocked by my demeanor because I usually act demure around the nuns. Not anymore. I will not be bullied or beaten by some nut case of a nun.

  “I’m to keep you locked in your room,” she stutters.

  “When hell freezes over. I am not a prisoner here and am free to come and go when I please. Do I make myself clear?”

  With bulging eyes, she rapidly nods. I change my pants, pulling on long underwear and heavier ones on top. Then I change my sweater, adding layers underneath. I add two layers of socks, put my boots back on, and grab my coat.

  “Emmalia, where are you going?”

  “To Father Anthony’s. I’m reporting Sister Helena. I will not be beaten or held under lock and key by anyone, I don’t fucking care who they are.”

  The gasp from Sister Mary Elizabeth that I expected never comes. She only says, “I don’t blame you dear. It’s about time someone stands up to her.”

  Marching past her, I carry on right out the convent door and straight to the rectory where Father Anthony lives. When I get there, the door is locked as I expected it to be. With this kind of snow, there would be no way for his secretary to get to work today. My fists pound and pound on the door until he opens it, saying, “Hold on. I’m coming. Give an old man a chance.”

  When he gets a good look at me he says, “Get inside and please tell me Kade Hart did not do that to you.”

  “No, Father, he did not. Sister Helena did. And worse, she tried to keep me locked in my room. She called me a tramp, a whore, a slut, and Satan’s follower. I will not tolerate being bullied or beaten by anyone. If I go back there, I will retaliate.”

  “Come.” He leads me into his living room to a couch that has seen better days. “Sit.”

  Then he leaves and returns with a bag of ice, only after taking a good look at my cheek. “This is unacceptable. Kade was here a few minutes ago complaining about your inadequate clothing.”

  “He told Sister Helena he was coming here. She was angry because he carried me through the snowdrifts. I tried to come back, Father, I really did
. But the snow, it was up to my hips and my pants …” I’m suddenly crying and I don’t even know why. I always control my emotions, so well so why am I weeping now? A handful of tissues appear in front of me, and he pats me on the back.

  “I understand. Kade explained everything. He was right. And you shouldn’t have tried to come home. That was foolish of you.”

  “Why did she punish me like this?”

  “Emmalia, I need to take some photos of your face. I’m going to petition the order to have her removed. In the interim, one of the other nuns will take her place.”

  “Okay.”

  “Can I ask you a personal question?”

  “Yes, Father.”

  “Do you have feelings for Kade?”

  Oh, God, why did he have to ask me that? I can’t lie to him. He’s a priest, for crying out loud.

  “I think so.”

  “Hmm. Then do you think you should stay on at the convent?”

  “I don’t know.” I hold my head. “That’s the same thing I’ve been agonizing over. How do I know the answer to that?”

  “Well, you can’t have both. I don’t think we allow married nuns,” he laughs.

  “Married! Good lord! Who said anything about that?”

  “Well isn’t that the natural progression of a relationship?”

  “Sometimes, but not always.”

  “Emmalia, you can’t date Kade if you’re in the convent.” His voice is stern.

  “Don’t you think I know that? I’m not stupid.” Now my voice matches his.

  “I’m only clarifying. If you want to pursue this budding relationship you may or may not have, you are going to have to make some kind of a decision with regard to your devotion to becoming a nun. Your novitiate period will be coming to an end soon.”

  “I know,” I say in a whiny voice.

  “Emmalia, listen to me.” His sternness captures my full attention. “This may be a once in a lifetime opportunity. Don’t let it pass you by. I’m not advising you to jump head first into something. What I am saying is to take your time to get to know this man. I’ve known him for a while now and I sense a great person in him. Think about it, will you?”

  “Are you trying to persuade me to leave?”

  “Not in the least. I want your happiness above all. The convent is right for many people, and for many others it’s not. If you think Kade can offer you love, then the convent isn’t your home, Kade is.”

  “But what about dedicating my life to Jesus? And God?”

  Father Anthony laughs. “Good lord, child, haven’t you learned anything? They’re everywhere. You don’t have to be in the convent to have both of them in your life.”

  He gives me a lot to think about. I’m not sure if I’m more or less confused. All this started as a sham, but then I lived it so well I started to believe it all. And Father Anthony, well, I have the utmost respect for him. But he does make sense. What if I go ahead with my vows and pass up my chance to be with Kade? What the hell am I saying? There’s no way I could ever be a nun. Look at the way they live. I’m only in it because I don’t think I’m going to live much longer. So Kade knows my deal, why not take that chance and let our relationship grow?

  Father Anthony’s laughter interrupts my thoughts. “You sure have some serious wheels spinning there. I’ve been trying to get your attention here. Look to your left so I can take a few shots of your face.”

  He takes what he needs and then excuses himself to make a call. When he gets back, his face is grim.

  “I want to warn you, Sister Helena is on the way over, and she’s denying ever hitting you. She says that Kade did it.”

  “What! That’s ridiculous.”

  “I believe you. But were there any witnesses when he brought you back?”

  “No, and I went straight to my room.”

  “That’s what I thought.” His fingers thrum a rhythm on the arm of his chair. “If you leave today, is there anyone you can stay with?”

  “The only one I know of would be Kade, and I honestly don’t want to do that.”

  “I understand. Okay, let me do the talking.”

  We wait in silence and my anger mounts. Anger is a strange thing. The last couple of years I’ve lived in fear, not knowing what lurks around each corner. My head constantly is on the lookout for stalkers or things that look off. The hair on my arms and the back of my neck never seems to be at ease, always at high alert. But today, my anger has expunged that fear, taken away the cringing woman, and replaced it with one fierce bitch. If Sister Helena thinks she’s going to walk in here and see a cowering terror-stricken girl, she has another thing coming.

  The knock on the door tells us the moment of reckoning is here. Father Anthony pats my knee and goes to let the Daughter of Lucifer in. Or maybe she’s the Mother of Lucifer. Who the hell knows?

  She walks in with a haughty look on her face. Now that pisses me off even more. How dare she look haughty? She’s an old hag of a nun, for Pete’s sake.

  “Well, I see the tramp is already spreading her lies, as well as her legs.”

  “That’s enough, Sister Helena. Sit down.” She takes the seat next to Father Anthony and scowls at me. Fine, I shoot my best daggers back at her. And then I one up her. When Father Anthony isn’t looking, I flip her off. Her scowl deepens.

  “Sister Helena, Emmalia claims Kade did not strike her and I have to say, knowing Kade as well as I do, that would be the last thing he would ever do. That man is as gentle as a mouse.”

  I smirk at her. “I would like to add that it would make no sense for him to strike me after he saved my life.”

  “Yes, that’s true. Furthermore, why did you lock Emmalia in her room?”

  Sister Helena’s mouth crimps in annoyance. She points her bony index finger at me and wags it back and forth. “Because I didn’t want that whore to taint my convent. I have pure innocent women living there, but that … that slut…”

  Father Anthony slams his fist down on the wooden arm of his chair and bellows, “That’s enough. You will not slander this young woman in my presence. Am I clear?”

  With a murderous expression aimed at me, she says, “Yes, Father.”

  “Speak directly to me when you answer,” he barks.

  Her posture is as stiff and straight as rebar, but she offers him an obligatory nod.

  “Under the circumstances, and after this outrageous outburst, I’m going to impose my authority and remove you from your position.”

  She stands, a vein throbbing at her temple, and I wonder if she’s going to have a stroke.

  “You can’t do that. You don’t have the authority.”

  Now Father Anthony is super pissed. “I don’t what? I am the pastor of this parish. I have the ultimate authority here. Or have you forgotten that? I am exercising my rights to remove you from this point on.” Then he looks at me and I hope he doesn’t notice my smug expression. “Emmalia, who is Sister Helena’s second?”

  “That would be Sister Mary Elizabeth. She’s the one that let me out of my room.”

  “Excellent. Can you go and call her please? Have her come to the rectory right now, if you will.”

  “Yes, Father.”

  I’m so giddy, I feel high. Ding dong the witch is going down, baby! What I would do for a bottle of tequila, some salt, and a lime right now. Maybe Father Anthony has some. I call Sister Mary Elizabeth, and return to the living room. We all sit in silence, but I’m having a mental party. I’m so engrossed in my fun, taking shots and dancing, that I don’t notice Sister Helena get up.

  “This is all your fault. If I hadn’t listened to your pleas and given you a chance, if I hadn’t allowed you entry in the convent, none of this would be happening right now.” And she tries to stab me with a letter opener that she must’ve found on the coffee table or something. She swipes it across my chest, but I’m wearing several layers so it does no harm. I push her down on the ground because my adrenaline is now surging and I step on the arm that holds the we
apon.

  Father Anthony grabs the letter opener and I ask, “What do we do now?”

  “We call the police. She just assaulted you. And that’s after she punched you in the face earlier. She’s going to jail.”

  My foot is still on her arm and her body bucks, trying to dislodge it. She’s strong for an old woman.

  Father Anthony yells, “That’s enough! Do you want me to tie you up?” Then he looks at me and tells me to call 911. I run to the other room and make the call.

  What a freak show. When I get back, Sister Helena is begging Father not to send her to jail. Now I want to laugh at the whole scenario. What the hell just happened? A nun tried to stab me with a letter opener!

  “Why do you hate me so much?” I had to know. It couldn’t be from me staying with Kade. There was more to it than that.

  “You’re unchaste.”

  “If I’m unchaste, why did you let me in?”

  “I thought I could change you, but you’re … no one is going to change you.”

  Father Anthony and I look at each other. We both are thinking the same thing. She needs psychiatric help. The woman is batshit kooky.

  Sister Mary Elizabeth arrives and before we can finish explaining, the police arrive. Sister Helena is babbling about me being a whore and they handcuff her and put her in the car. Father speaks to them and they decide she needs to go the psych unit at the hospital instead of jail.

  “I guess you’re in charge now. You won’t be locking me in my room or sucker punching me, will you?” I ask.

  “Gracious, no! She’s been getting worse and worse these last few weeks. The other day, she was mumbling about little people being in the closet. I honestly didn’t know what to do. But, Emmalia, she had it out for you.”