by Lucian Bane
He smiled. “Of course you do. It’s mine too. I like the poetic flow of it.”
“Me too. My mother read to me from it and the language became second nature.”
“My parents died when I was young,” Dante said, adding his piece to the sharing field.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
The genuine sympathy in her tone caught him off guard. “Mine died not long after I married.” She quickly smiled, hiding what looked like pain. “Died on the same day. I was a miracle child, you know. An only child conceived in their old age.”
“Like Abraham?”
Her face it up and she smiled. “Yes. Like Abraham.”
“I’m sorry to hear they died.”
“Well,” she stood suddenly. “I have things I need to tend to. I’ll get that list to you this afternoon.”
“Good.” Dante stood and stretched. “Long drive. I might have a swim if that’s okay.”
“Please do!” she gushed. “The pool never gets any use whatsoever.”
“Swimming is good for you, you should consider it.” Shit, he just asked her to get in a bathing suit which he sure she never did, given her modesty. “And walking too. That’s healthy.”
“Renee will have dinner cooked at six. You are welcome to eat in the house or out here. She likes you,” she announced as she turned to go. “She will try to fatten you up while you’re here.”
“I meant to ask,” he said. “Daryl mentioned this needed to be kept private. Does Renee know?”
He caught a flash of anger before she smiled again. “Of course she doesn’t,” she said lightly to his disappointment. “Nobody knows except those I wish didn’t. And now you,” she muttered, like he was the latest addition to her humility.
“You realize how many women have this issue? It can be resolved and very often is.”
The almost angry look she leveled on him made him pause but then she wiped it away with a smile. “I’m sure. I have no doubt the Lord’s will is going to be done in this.”
Dante wasn’t sure what she thought His will was and only nodded in agreement. “Till supper then,” he said, ready to end his first close encounter with the very sane seeming wife. Maybe all she needed was vitamins. Maybe this job would be a lot easier and shorter than he’d anticipated.
It was still too early to tell though. He might need to ask Renee some things offhandedly to see what she knew, compare answers. The maids usually new shit.
CHAPTER THREE
TEMPTATION
Rin watched the man from upstairs in her bedroom. She made sure she couldn’t be seen. God, he was terrifying. Those scars he’d called them. The artistic scrawl covered his neck and parts of his face. And his body too she realized as she watched him do laps like an Olympic swimmer going for the gold. Her stomach turned at thinking about Daryl. He’d not called except to let her know when the “healer” was coming. He didn’t have time to talk and he’d call that night. She hoped he didn’t. She didn’t want to hear his voice ever again, really.
He jumped out of the pool and she backed away from the window, still straining her neck to see. Her heart hammered in her chest as he grabbed the towel on the chair. The ripple of muscle was hypnotizing and she fought to tear her eyes away, feeling the burn of sin. But she couldn’t help it. She’d seen Daryl’s chest only a couple of times, once not long after they were married. She’d never forget the sting of that moment and how furious he was. “You don’t look at me naked,” he’d said. “It’s not right. Sex isn’t about lust, it’s about life.”
Thinking back, she realized it was the first bad sign she’d not ignored with him. She remembered thinking but I didn’t lust, I was just looking. He was her husband and she’d thought it was okay.
Not according to him. She’d gotten a new teaching on nakedness that day that she couldn’t argue at the time. “Eve and Adam sewed fig leaves and covered themselves because once they knew sin, they knew nakedness was wrong.” That’s what he’d said. The only thing Rin had was but I wasn’t lusting I was just looking. Just curious.
Through the years, she’d studied more of the Scripture sure he was wrong. But to her disappointment, she realized that Eve too had been curious, and look where that led her.
She backed away from the window, feeling ashamed. Was this what her sin was? The one that kept her barren? Because of the many things she was curious about? Especially sex? She wasn’t really sure how much she knew about sex, she had nothing to gauge that to. She guarded her mind and eyes as she’d been trained all her life to do. Her mother and father never had television or devil-vision and she was not permitted to go places that had it. And being homeschooled and constantly chaperoned assured her complete ignorance on the matter that now seemed to be the main topic and focus of marriage. Or should be, she thought.
She always had a streak of rebellion her father had said. Always wanting what was forbidden, like Eve and the forbidden fruit. It was in the looking and curiosity that brought the lust. This seemed quite true for her at twenty-eight years old. Seven years of curiosity had her burning with only more and more questions which led to her foolish search for answers on the internet only a year ago.
Her brain was scarred. The images that had come with those answers, men and women doing sexual things, in strange positions. It was only a flash but her mind had expanded those few stills into a thousand images that created an entire moving story which left her breathless, shaken, and more confused. What did the looks on their faces mean? Their open mouths and tightly drawn brows? And why did it call her to experience it? Was it pain she saw in their faces? She hoped not. Sex shouldn’t be painful she thought, but then childbearing was, as part of the curse. So maybe child making was part of that curse. She felt pain during sex but she was sure it was because Daryl wasn’t careful enough.
For a while, there were moments where she felt like under the right conditions, it might not be painful. Maybe not so pleasurable but certainly not something she despised having to perform.
Everything about it lately made her angry. She felt like Daryl was wrong about sex but she didn’t have any grounds or authority to prove that. And to try and argue it resulted in unbearable, verbal abuse and the promise of physical.
Seek and you shall find. Ask and it will be opened to you. That’s what she’d been doing but she feared she'd gone about it the wrong way with her internet idea. She'd said sorry countless times and repented the best way she knew how. She believed that God forgave her but it was hard to feel forgiven when those images never went away. Why didn’t they go away? Because she wanted them to stay? Because she couldn’t get rid of the curiosity? She had tried. Begged God to take it from her, take the tormenting desires those images had given her.
Lately, when her and Daryl tried to create, the questions plagued her. She wanted so much to ask him, but he’d made it clear that it wasn’t a topic for discussion. And that all made it harder to love him with the love of God. She no longer had the love of a wife for him, she’d lost that when he quit loving her, quit touching her in any affectionate way. Now, she held on to the love of God for him. Every human deserved that love no matter what, she thought.
Pain stole her breath as she thought about her marriage and how it was the biggest fiery trial she’d ever endured, even more so than the death of her parents. She still couldn’t think about that loss, not while she was living in this hell. The whys of it all. There were too many bad answers waiting to be learned and she couldn’t take any more bad in her life.
But something said the fire was as hot as it was going to get, that the crux of the trial was upon her. Her husband was facing excommunication from the church if they didn’t resolve her sin which brought this barren curse. They couldn’t allow him to remain in leadership while his house was not in order and he didn’t have control over his wife.
She never liked the taste of that in her mouth. She was very rebellious she realized, in many things her church believed. But she didn’t have a voic
e in the matter. She was only a wife, a servant to God and she must wait on Him to show her what to do.
Now, when Daryl came every month to try and create with her, she fought feelings of loathe and hate. Her skin crawled when he looked at her and touched her. She wondered more than ever now if he enjoyed trying to create with her. He was quiet during, and since he always made her lie on her stomach, she couldn’t see his face. Was his mouth open like in those pictures? Were his brows drawn? He made sounds that could mean it hurt him but maybe it meant he liked it?
She hoped he didn’t like it as much as she did, hoped he hated it. She hoped it hurt. He was a bad man and she was beginning to think that his ideas about sex were bad, not hers.
“Why do you make me lie on my stomach?” she’d just recently made the mistake of asking. He’d slapped her so hard across the head, pain exploded in her ear and black dots swam in her vision for an entire minute.
“Maybe that will help you remember what I taught you about nakedness,” he’d said. “To spell it out again, you’re face down because I don’t want to see your nakedness or feel it. Nakedness has no place in creating.”
But it’s dark, you cruel man, she'd burned to say.
She had nobody. No more family, except the church. She didn’t leave the house, she didn’t have company and she was all too glad for it. When going to church had become facing a spiritual firing squad that killed her every time she went, she feigned sickness. She could take a lot of things but she couldn’t take the repeated death she endured twice a week, the stares, the whispers and the rejection of an entire church. It was enough she took it from her husband.
And what did her being sick mean to them? That she was fallen. Of course she was sick. There was no sympathy, she was treated like a leper, put on an island, and told to repent and return when she was clean.
Well, she’d not return. She’d stay on the island forever, happily. She liked the peace she’d found in her loneliness. She was still dying daily, but at least she didn’t have to do it on stage.
But now, her island was being raided and she was being demanded to get off, to be healed or answer for her sins. She was terrified of what was coming. What would they do? What would her husband do if she didn’t conceive? And now her doom had doubled with this half-naked man in real life, in her back yard. The bad thoughts burned through her. It all confirmed two things. That contemplating sex out of the capacity of creation indeed led one to sin. And that she was the one gripped in that power.
Rin’s fiery trials became an inferno that afternoon as she sat with her eyes averted while the man drew blood from her. She wasn’t sure what hurt more, the needle, or the softness of his touch. Her mind compared everything he did to how Daryl did or didn’t do things. Daryl barely touched her ever but the barest glide of this man’s fingers burned down to her bones. She clenched her eyes shut, praying through the trial, praying to survive it.
“You oaky, Princess?”
Rin nearly gasped, holding her breath. Princess. She shook her head, trying not to let the bad thoughts and feelings stick in her flesh. “I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine.”
“Almost done. You’re doing great. One more.”
She prayed it would end while wishing he’d go all week draining her body of all her blood, just to feel him near, touching her.
At realizing how depraved she was, a surge of tears hit her eyes.
“All done,” he said, hurrying to remove the thick rubber around her arm with a snap. He wiped her arm with a cotton, and she inhaled the smell of the alcohol. God, it smelled heavenly. He held her arm and placed a band aid on the spot where he drew blood. She was terrified to look at him and let out a shaky breath when he turned to the table mumbling about levels and tests and things she didn’t care about.
The phone rang and she jumped. Daryl. Oh God, not now. She hurried to the phone on trembling legs and answered it. “Hello?”
“How’s it going?” he asked, right off.
“Excuse me, phone call,” she told him and hurried to the downstairs bathroom, locking herself in. “He just drew blood,” she said.
“You’re voice is shaking.”
“I don’t like having blood drawn,” she whispered, not daring to hint at anything else.
“Of course,” he said lightly. “How do you feel?”
What kind of a question was that? What did he want to know was the real question. “I feel like there’s a stranger in my home and I’m scared.”
“What do you think of him so far? Do you feel the divinity?”
Divinity? “I trust God is working.” In mysterious ways.
“Well, this is it. I want you to not screw this up.”
“I think this is a bad idea, Daryl,” she whispered, scared to death of what was happening.
“Well you have no choice in the matter,” he said, his tone turning dark. “I’m your husband, you’re my wife, remember how that works? And I damn well think I know what’s best for you after seven years of going through this marriage with you.” She struggled with all the bad words on her tongue. “Well? What do you say?” he ordered after many seconds.
She stood there trembling as she fought her thoughts. “Yes … lord,” she choked out, feeling so stupid, so foolish. Calling him that had been her stupid idea. She was only twenty-one at the time and wanted to be the best wife. Sarah had called her beloved Abraham, lord. But he was no Abraham. “I’m sorry.” The second she said it, she remembered her recent vow to not say it anymore. She was always sorry. It was always her fault but it wasn’t. She’d not be sorry for sins that were not her fault and his cruelty was not her fault. She could take the blame for her own sins and she did but his were not hers to bear and she wouldn’t let him make her feel responsible anymore.
“You have cost me enough grief, Rin, don’t you think?” She cringed at the loathe in his voice when he said her name. “Do you realize how much money I’ve spent trying to get to the bottom of your so called problems? I swear to you, if he doesn’t find your issue, you’re getting the chastisement of your life. This man is a gift from God, so I suggest you quit resisting the mercies of the Lord and allow healing to come through or you will suffer the consequences of sin. Ignorance is no longer an umbrella you can hide under.”
Maybe she didn’t care anymore. She was so tired of being broken, whatever fixed her, that’s what she wanted. To be fixed and to be good and bring peace.
“Are you presentable? Remember your job, your duty before the Lord. He’s a guest in our home--”
“I know this,” she said.
“Don’t interrupt me!” he cut in, his fury biting. “I don’t give a hell what you claim to know, when I speak, you listen even if I’ve said it five times, you will listen five times, how hard is that for you to grasp?” he cried, out of breath. “I really do hope this man can help you. God knows I’ve had the patience of a saint with you.”
She swallowed, biting her tongue on things that would explain and reassure him, and curse him.
“As I have said, you will treat the man like royalty in our home. You tend to his needs, all of them, do I make myself clear? All of them.”
Her heart hammered in her chest and sickness made her stomach cramp as she recalled the last time he’d said that. It was for a deacon in their church and he’d wanted her to suck his penis. She refused and was severely chastised for disobeying. But she didn’t understand why she should, it had nothing to do with creation—that was her argument—he’d taught her that. Sex was strictly for creation.
But as usual, she was wrong again.
“It’s the woman who suffers that punishment,” he’d said, “not the man! She was the sinner. And furthermore,” he’d told her, “I don’t participate in pleasure with you in order to fulfill your punishment, not mine. How dare you take this haughty disposition and put your sins upon a man of God who is a guest in our home?”
She was happy to take the chastisement, she didn’t regret it and she wouldn’t repent.
She was sure he was wrong, sure he couldn’t be right.
But maybe this time … she wouldn’t take the chastisement.
“I understand,” she said, feeling composed suddenly.
“Good,” he muttered. “If he for some reason finds you desirable, then you offer yourself. That’s the least I can do. Money doesn’t cut the sort of price this miracle means to me. I am sick of your sins hindering us and the church, and I will be damned if you cost me my position because you refuse to repent.”
“Yes,” she hurried then hung up on him, gritting her teeth, wanting to throw the phone at the mirror while a feeling of disgust rolled through her. He couldn’t do this to her. He had no right. He was wrong. What he was doing was wrong, she could feel it to the bottom of her soul.
CHAPTER FOUR
HOLISTIC HIJACK
Dante sat at the table by the pool late that evening, going over all the shit he’d deciphered in one day. Something was definitely wrong with their marriage and he wasn’t sure which of them was the culprit. There was always two sides to every story and just because she seemed to tell a convincing one didn’t make it true. She seemed like a fucking angel and he was waiting for the first sign that he was wrong about that.
Rin’s white dress caught his eye and he turned to see her walking toward him with a paper in her hand. Shit. He didn’t have a shirt on. He sat forward, hoping he didn’t scare her more than he already had. She was shaking like a leaf when he took blood and he was pretty sure it wasn’t all from him taking the blood.
“Sorry to disturb your midnight reverie,” she said softly, setting the paper down on the table. “All the details you need are there. I couldn’t sleep so I went ahead and did it.”
“Thank you, I’ll go over them. You feel okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said, but her voice quivered.
“Daryl called, he’s okay?”
“He’s fine. I’ll see you in the morning Dante.”