Atone

by Wendi Wilson

  It took most of the afternoon, but we managed find an address thanks to Savanna’s cell phone and an accommodating police officer we found at the station. Of course, he was only accommodating because he was persuaded. I keep telling myself it was for a good cause, that we were on the side of justice and that persuading that cop wasn’t wrong.

  But it’s a slippery slope. The line between right and wrong blurs when you’re scared and desperate.

  We walked into that station and Jett persuaded the first officer we found to call Savanna’s cell phone provider and have them ping her phone. I was sure it wouldn’t work, that the device would have been confiscated by Brother Earl and shut down, but apparently, I was wrong. The phone was on, despite our many calls and texts going unanswered.

  The phone company got us a general location and the policeman verified that there was only one unoccupied house in the area— a rental property with no current tenants. At least, none that were reported on the lease.

  “I should be the one to go in first,” I say, breaking the silence that had enveloped us inside the car.

  “What? No,” Slade says.

  Silas opens his mouth to voice his opinion as well, but I cut him off.

  “Listen, guys. If Brother Earl is there, maybe I can convince him that I’ve come to my senses and want back into his good graces. If he’s not there, chances are I’ll know the guards. He always surrounds himself with members of the church. If they don’t know I’ve defected, it’ll be easy to get inside and catch them unawares.”

  “I don’t like it,” Silas says.

  “Me, neither,” Slade adds.

  “Yeah, Lizzie,” Beckett says, turning in his seat to face me, “it sounds dangerous. You shouldn’t go in there alone.”

  “I don’t know,” Wyatt says, scratching his chin. “I think she can handle it. She’s tough.”

  I smile my thanks and turn my attention to the others in the car. “I can totally handle it,” I say, injecting my voice with confidence. “I need to do this. I need to make up for letting her go in the first place without warning you.”

  “Lizzie,” Jett says, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror. “You can do it if you really want to, but not because you feel like you owe us something. You don’t.”

  I bob my head without speaking, fearing my voice will crack with the emotion I’m feeling. Jett trusts me. Wyatt believes in me. Beckett is worried for my safety. I am part of something here. Something amazing.

  I’m not going to mess this up.

  I look first at Slade on my left, then Silas to the right. They each nod, begrudgingly agreeing to let me do my thing. I smile as I stare toward the front of the car. I can feel both of their gazes burning into me, but I refuse to look. I know I’ll end up doing something incredibly stupid, like kissing one of them. Or both.

  Jett lifts a flask to his lips, taking a sip of the liquid inside. This time, I don’t mistake it for anything other than what it is. I know he needs the blood, especially after just using persuasion on the policeman. He passes the container over to Beckett, who drinks from it before passing it back to Wyatt.

  Wyatt takes a long pull, then turns in his seat. He holds out the flask, wiggling it in the air toward us. I turn toward Slade, who has a deer-in-the-headlights look on his face as he shakes his head vigorously. I turn my attention to Silas, who’s frowning at Wyatt like he’s a total idiot for even suggesting it.

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” I groan, reaching out and snatching the metal flask from Wyatt’s hand. I press it into Silas’s chest, forcing him to take it. “Drink. You need it.”

  “I can wait,” he says, holding the container out in front of him like it’s toxic. “I know it makes you uncomfortable.”

  “It doesn’t bother me anymore.”

  He cocks an eyebrow at me, skepticism written all over his face. I press the bottle back into his chest.

  “I promise,” I say, using my index finger to draw an X across my chest. “It really doesn’t.”

  Silas keeps his eyes locked on mine as he unscrews the lid and lifts the mouth of the flask to his lips. He hesitates a nanosecond before tipping it back. I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. His skin flushes slightly as his eyes drift shut.

  Tilting the bottle back down, he opens his eyes and looks at me, awaiting my reaction. I smile, attempting to hide the tension in my body while taking the flask from him and passing it to his brother. Slade shrugs and takes a long swig, closing his eyes much the same way Silas did. His cheeks pinken the same, his Adam’s apple moves the same, he has that same look of satisfaction when he finishes.

  I concentrate on controlling my breathing as Slade passes the flask back up to Wyatt. But Alts’ hearing is too sensitive. I know they hear the hitch in my lungs because they’re both staring at me intently. Like they’re waiting for me to fall to pieces, disgusted by the fact that they drank blood right in front of me.

  But that’s not what I’m feeling at all.

  Slade pulls out his phone and taps on the screen. My phone vibrates in my pocket and I pull it out, seeing a text from him.

  “Who is that? Is it our uncle?” Jett asks from the front of the van.

  “No, uh, it’s just a notification from social media,” I stutter out.

  Slade obviously wants whatever he has to say to remain private, since he texted me and I’m sitting right next to him. Lord knows, with the strength of Alts’ hearing, any spoken conversation, even that of whispers, would be heard by everyone in the car.

  I tap the screen of my phone to pull up the message, noticing it’s actually a group text between Slade, Silas, and me.

  Slade: Are you grossed out? Tell the truth.

  Silas: We could have waited til you weren’t around.

  My hands start to shake as I tap the icon to type my own message. I could lie, tell them they were right and they’ll probably never feel comfortable drinking blood in front of me, ever again. But I won’t. Barring my resolve to be as open and honest with my new friends as possible, I can’t cause them days, weeks, possibly years of discomfort to save myself this one moment of my own embarrassment.

  It’s not that. I promise, I type out.

  Slade: Then, what is it?

  Silas: Tell us the truth, Lizzie.

  Silas: Please.

  I take a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. I’m not getting out of this one. I may as well just admit it and get it over with.

  Watching you both find so much pleasure…

  I delete the words and start again.

  It kind of turned me on, watching you…

  I start to delete the words again, but my phone disappears from my grip. I gasp and try to snatch it back from Slade, but it’s too late. I can tell by his sharp intake of breath, he’s already read it. He taps my screen and Silas coughs.

  Slade hands the phone back to me and I see what he’s done. He tapped the send button so Silas could read what I wrote. I stare straight ahead, my face on fire, fueled by a combination of shame and anger.

  Jett catches my eye in the rearview mirror. He can obviously tell something is going on with the three of us. I shake my head, dropping my eyes to my lap. My phone is going off, lighting up and vibrating again and again. I press the button and power it down. I’m done talking to them.

  “Jett, pull over.”

  Silas’s words echo through the quiet cabin of the van, making me jump. Jett starts to argue, saying that there’s no time, but Slade jumps in, his voice loud and commanding.

  “Jesus Christ, Jett! Pull over. We need five minutes.”

  The van veers to the right, the bumpy terrain of the roadside sending us bouncing in our seat. Before the vehicle even comes to a complete stop, the twins are unbuckled and Slade is clicking my seatbelt free. I try to protest, but Silas’s face fills my vision, his eyes pleading.

  “Please, Lizzie. Five minutes.”

  Sighing, I let them shuffle me out of the car. I have a strong gut feeling that they were goi
ng to force a conversation whether I got out or not, so getting away from the triplets seems like a better option. Once we climb down, Slade leans back inside.

  “Turn the radio up, loud enough so you can’t hear us.”

  The music blasts as the door slides shut. I can only assume Jett is complying to get this show on the road, literally. The quicker Silas and Slade say what they have to say, the quicker we can get back on our mission to find Savanna.

  “I’m sorry,” Slade says, taking my hand and holding it tight when I try to pull it back. “I really am, Lizzie. I shouldn’t have taken your phone like that, but it was driving me crazy, thinking that you were disgusted by us. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” Silas adds, taking my other hand. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to admit something you didn’t feel comfortable telling us.”

  “And I shouldn’t have sent through the text so he could see it,” Slade adds. “Can you forgive us?”

  They are so contrite, so worried that I won’t forgive them, that I feel the indignation seep right out of me. Forgiveness is a part of friendship and I’d be the world’s biggest hypocrite if I didn’t forgive them after all the stuff I pulled and received absolution for. But I can’t let them off too easy.

  “That was a total invasion of privacy,” I say, tightening my grip on their hands. “Don’t ever do that again.”

  “I promise,” Slade says.

  “You have my word,” Silas adds.

  “And… don’t ever make fun of me for what you just read.”

  Silas jerks me forward before releasing my hand and wrapping his arms around me. “We would never,” he whispers next to my ear.

  Slade pulls me away from his brother and wraps his own arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug. “Consider it forgotten,” he says, brushing his lips against my cheek.

  The engine of the van revs up, and we break apart. The skin of my cheek burns as we climb back up into the van, the feel of Slade’s lips lingering there. Jett barely waits for us to buckle up before he presses the gas, taking us back on the road toward our destination.

  Silas slips his hand into mine, lacing our fingers together. His brother follows suit, wrapping his strong fingers through mine. We sit in silence as the miles fly by, and I wonder if their minds are focused on the words I never wanted them to see. I wonder if they’re thinking about me, all hot and bothered by watching them drink blood. I wonder if it creeps them out or makes them uncomfortable. If they think I’m a freak.

  Despite what Slade said, I know none of us will be forgetting it any time soon.

  22

  The small house sits on a large lot without any close neighbors, perfect for keeping prisoners with none the wiser. Thin bars of light stream out around the edges of the window coverings, so I know someone is there. Savanna’s mom’s car is in the driveway, but I don’t see the dark SUV from this morning, and I hope that means Brother Earl is gone. Despite my earlier bravado, I’m not quite ready to face him yet.

  With a few words of reassurance from the boys that they’d be right outside, I climb down from the van and make my way up the street toward the driveway. Beckett, Wyatt, and the Madsens exit the vehicle behind me and move to the shoulder while Jett shifts the van into drive and pulls off the other side of the road, hiding it behind a large clump of bushes.

  I head for the front door, my heart pounding like it’s trying to burst right through my chest. Before I can chicken out, I rap my knuckles against the wood of the door. I look over my shoulder, but don’t see any of the boys. Nevertheless, I know they’re there, and their presence gives me confidence.

  Light flashes across my face as the curtain beside the door twitches open before falling closed again.

  “It’s Lizzie Williams,” I call out when the door doesn’t open. “Open up. I need to see Brother Earl.”

  The sound of metal scraping against metal fills the air as several locks disengage. Shoving my hand behind my back, I give a thumbs-up sign. I don’t know how close the boys are, but hopefully they can see my signal. I don’t want them rushing in before I’m ready.

  Hinges squeak as the wood panel swings inward, and a young man dressed from head to toe in black steps into the opening. Excitement courses through me as I recognize him. This is going better than expected.

  “Brother Jimmy,” I breathe, like his face is the one face I most wanted to see. “It’s so good to see you.”

  I lift my lips into a smile, one that’s shy and seductive all at once. Blood rushes to Jimmy’s face as he blushes, angry red splotches blooming across his cheeks and forehead. I thank him in a breathy voice as he ushers me inside, looking around the yard before closing the door behind me.

  I’ve caught Jimmy O’Connor staring at me so many times, I started avoiding him completely at church and stayed glued to my father’s side any time Jimmy was around. It’s creepy… borderline obsessive. The dude is like, twenty-five years old, for Christ’s sake. A shiver runs through me at the thought, and I’m glad Silas, Slade, and the Pattons are right outside.

  “What are you doing here, Lizzie?” Jimmy asks, taking a step closer as I take a step back.

  “I need to talk to Brother Earl,” I say, looking around the room. My eyes widen as I spot Savanna’s parents in the doorway of one of the bedrooms. I shift my eyes back to Jimmy. “Is he here?”

  “No, he’s out. Doing the good Lord’s work.”

  His face takes on a dreamy expression. I swallow thickly, wondering if I looked the same while under Brother Earl’s fanatical thrall. Probably. I shiver again. I feel like I escaped and not a moment too soon. I can see the cult leader losing it completely, moving everyone into a secured compound and having sex with all the women to try and impregnate them with the world’s next generation of holy leaders.

  The scary part is, it’s not that much of a stretch.

  My eyes flit around the room as I speak, “Do you know when he’ll be back?”

  There is a woman standing slightly behind Jimmy, another member of our church who’s dressed in identical black clothing. As I watch, she backs up to stand beside the bedroom door I spotted the Mr. and Mrs. James in. I don’t see anyone else until I peer through the doorway leading into the kitchen. Two more guards are in the room, sitting at the table playing cards.

  The odds are in our favor at six to four, not including Savanna’s parents. My confidence spikes, and that’s when I notice the pistol strapped to Jimmy’s side and the large knife on his thigh. My eyes flick to the woman. She has the same weapons. Damn.

  “I’m not sure,” Jimmy says, answering my question. “He said he and the James girl would be out for the evening. That’s all.”

  “Okay,” I say, moving toward the couch. “I’ll wait.”

  Jimmy moves with me and I decide sitting on the plush couch isn’t such a great idea, after all. He’d probably sit next to me, too close for comfort. And his female cohort wouldn’t do anything to stop him if he tried something.

  I switch directions and head for the bedroom door. “What are they doing here?” I ask, playing dumb.

  I peek my head through the door when the guard doesn’t stop me and give Mr. and Mrs. James a hopeful look while mouthing the word, “rescue.” I pull back quickly, turning to face Jimmy, who’s standing close behind me. His eyes, focused on my lower regions, zip up to meet mine as I turn. Gross.

  “You don’t know?” he asks. “As Brother Earl’s second in command, I assumed you would know all aspects of the mission.”

  “Of course, I do,” I bark, straightening my spine to take on an authoritative stance. “He used them to get Savanna here, alone, but I assumed he’d let them go after he had her.”

  Jimmy’s skeptical look fades as I explain. I’m reeling him back in, erasing any doubts he may have about me.

  “He changed his mind when we got here,” he says. “He planned to let them go but decided to hold them here to keep Savanna in line.”

  Some tension slips out of
me as his words confirm I’d hit the nail on the head with my quick save. I need to be more careful with my questions. It’s obvious Brother Earl didn’t tell his guards about my defection, and I can’t be the one to let that cat out of the bag.

  “Good plan,” I say. “She wouldn’t cooperate for long without some sort of… incentive.”

  I walk back toward the front door, Jimmy following doggedly at my heels. “What do you need to talk to Brother Earl about?” he asks.

  I’m surprised he waited this long to ask. “None of your business, Brother Jimmy,” I say, filling my voice with authority. I am, after all, his superior. At least, I was.

  “My apologies, Sister Lizzie,” he says, lowering his head.

  “I need some air,” I say, wrapping my hand around the doorknob. “I’m going out for a short walk. I’ll be back soon.”

  “But—”

  My stern look, one that says, “I can’t believe you’re questioning me again,” cuts off his objection. Rubbing a palm across the back of his neck, he takes a step back. He nods without saying anything else and I return the gesture before swinging open the door and stepping out onto the porch.

  I force my steps to remain slow and measured, like I’m just out for an evening stroll, when all I want to do is run. Away from Jimmy and his creepy leers. Away from the life I’d be living if I hadn’t come to my senses.

  I hear a hissing to my right and, turning my head, I squint my eyes to see better in the dark. One of the Patton brothers, I can’t tell which, is waving me over to the tree line. I head in that direction, keeping a leisurely pace. I’m sure Jimmy is watching from the window. Creeper.

  I head into the trees and, as soon as I’m out of sight of the house, I’m surrounded by five boys. They each where similar expressions. Expectancy mixed with determination mixed with a little bit of worry. I speak quickly and quietly.

  “She’s not there. Brother Earl took her out for the evening, I don’t know where. But her parents are in a bedroom that has a guard stationed by its door. Jimmy is guarding the front and there’s two more in the kitchen. That’s all I saw.”