Preacher Dom

by Lucian Bane

  She walked in reverse as she held his gaze with a silent pleading then spun and hurried down the sidewalk.

  Daniel fought his body's instincts to chase her. But the spirit said there was no need to, she wasn’t going anywhere. He would see her again. And he would find out more answers.

  Chapter Two

  Nineveh fought to catch her breath once she made it out the back door of the cigarette shop. She paced in the private garden behind S&G, feeling like she was having a heart attack. She pounded her fist against her chest, forcing out coughs in an effort to loosen the grip on her.

  Let me help you.

  Fuck, if Darius set her up to test her, she was going to be pissed. He was always doing some dumb shit like that ever since she asked to renegotiate their contract. But that was his fault. If he hadn’t broken his word, she wouldn’t be trying to renegotiate shit. Fucking manipulator. Two years ago she was easy to manipulate. But getting your ass beat and raped on repeat had a way of stripping the stupid off your forehead real quick.

  Now, she had to play stupid while she waited for her only way out.

  Do you believe?

  Just who the fuck was that man? She’d lied about not believing in God. She did. And she knew He didn’t exist in the world she lived in, the world she chose. That was on her, not God. He couldn’t help those who chose to be fucking idiots. She was that. A fucking idiot. All the way. She’d seen the flags, the warnings, and she chose to believe the best of the fucking worst.

  She made her way to the vine enshrouded cement bench and sat. She searched around, making sure no shadows lurked, watching her. She was definitely on the watch list.

  Images of the man’s face came before her again. Everything about him, his thick, muscular build stuffed into that black t-shirt, the cropped black hair, and that twenty-five o’clock shadow, all said riff-raff-rough. The fuck with me and die kind. Not a single thing about him said Preacher. And yet… his eyes… his eyes were… not gentle but… what? Nearly as black as his hair but she could see something in them. Raw. Clear, nothing hidden. And something else, something more. God... it was... passion. His eyes were filled with passion but not the kind in her world. The kind from another world.

  She tried to recall ever, ever, ever seeing those kinds of things in any man. And now she wanted to find him again. Watch him. See if he was everything he claimed and then watch what that looked like in real life. Was such a man really even possible? Besides Jesus Christ? Hearing of such a man she would never believe it but seeing him... seeing those things in him... she wasn’t so sure now. What if it was true? What if it wasn’t?

  She recalled the dirty feeling she had, like every second she stood near him, the dirtier she felt. She put her head in her hands, sucking in a lungful of air and releasing it.

  I’m praying Sodom and Gomorrah is shut down.

  A snicker burst out of her mouth and she covered it. “Praying Sodom and Gomorrah shut the fuck down?” she whispered, nodding with wide eyes. This dude had some serious, huge, holy balls. Hell, she’d pray with him if she thought it would do any good. But having her wicked ass pray might counter that gig he had going with the Almighty. Better stay out of holy matters.

  But he was right. This shit was no accident. Everything about their meeting had a chill to it. She regarded the bumps that suddenly rose on her arms as though proving her point.

  Definitely no accident. She’d watched him from the rooftop of S&G, trying to figure out what the hell he was doing walking in circles. She’d started keeping track at his fourth time around and on his sixth, she’d headed out to meet him, see if he qualified as a partner with her and Darius. But see, her intentions had been used. She knew what being used felt like and this was definitely the feeling. Her intentions, no matter what they were, had been used by that man. Somehow. And for the first time in her stupid life, she didn’t mind one bit. Even felt happy about it.

  Happy. What a lame-ass word in her world.

  If Darius hadn’t been so faithful in picking psychos for their third partner, bastards that seemed to enjoy beating the shit out of her, she’d never be looking for a new prospect to begin with. If she never saw another dick in her life, she’d rejoice for all eternity.

  But if she was going to be forced to the dick, she’d do what she could to have safe, sane partners. The rooftop gave her a bird’s eye view of such prospects. They often gravitated to the building like human gnats circling a dirty pussy. The place was possessed by some evil pull on people who were open to the alluring ways of the “lifestyle”.

  It was always a hit and miss finding decent men. And decent being a very diluted term. It meant not a fucking abuser. Those were all the scraps there was.

  And fucking Darius was picking these human sores on purpose. She recalled the day he slipped in that addendum in their contract between her, him and them. She grit her teeth, shaking her head. They would get a trial of seven days, no matter what, no matter how sadistic and cruel they were. She suddenly couldn’t breathe again from the weight of Mt. Shame and Stupid sitting on her chest. How could she be so fucking dumb to believe he wouldn’t let them hurt her?

  He hadn’t always been this cruel. He’d groomed that shit right into her. One thin layer of bullshit at a time, day after day until she was trapped under a mountain of fecal fuck. Soon it was so heavy, every breath you took allowed it to press harder, deeper into you. But this threesome of cruelty was rather new and it was his way of punishing her for wanting out. That motherfucker. All the shit he forced her to do in the name of teaching her. One day. One day she’d get her shot at him. She so fucking would, and when she did, when she did, she’d make him suffer so fucking perfectly. She’d watch him cry. She’d watch him shit and piss himself. Beg and beg, plenty of begging and puking and pleading. He had to know what it meant to have no hope. To know only being used. Over and over and fucking over. And lied to. She definitely wanted to keep moving that finish line every time he got close.

  She dug in her back pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, fighting the tremble in her hand as she tugged one out. She struggled with the lighter, flicking it several times before succeeding then sucked long and hard. She closed her eyes, trying to make her mind pray something. But there was nothing there, nothing but fury. Too bad those steel balls never lasted. Too bad they broke so easy when the man she once loved reduced... she clenched her eyes shut tight, pushing back at the pain inside. ...reduced her to a fucking clown.

  She hadn’t signed up for what he was doing. She shook her head, swiping the tears from her face and puffing on the cigarette. She hadn’t signed up for this.

  Get out was the advice they’d given when she’d gotten brave enough to ask at an online site. Or renegotiate the contract. "Sure you can get out, that’s the plan,” Darius had said, all sympathetic. “As soon as this one is up, you’re free.”

  Six more months. The option to just get out was not on the table, she knew that, not with Darius. And even though every instinct inside said he’d move that six-month finish line when she made it there, she was setting that as her mark, her hard limit. If he fucked with her after that, she would take the red pill. The one that gave Sodom and Gomorrah it’s true meaning-- No Turning Back. Once you went in, you never came out, that’s what that meant. And if she had to take that pill, she would. Because she wasn’t going out like this, she’d go out fighting, even if it meant dying.

  Meanwhile, she just needed to survive. And like every human, Darius had his weaknesses. She'd told him she’d met somebody she really liked and Darius immediately had to have him. “Get him,” was the order. And orders had to be fulfilled or there was Darius Hell to pay.

  But she’d lied, she didn’t have any prospects. She’d intended on finding one and now she needed a fucking replacement for Mr. Preacher. Because if that stranger with no name was who and what he claimed to be, she’d never attempt to bring him to Darius’s sick bed. She’d take her beatings before she defiled that. Even if he wasn’t who or
what he claimed to be, she’d protect even the hope that he was. The impossible dream that he was.

  Worst case scenario, he’d be one more disappointment in a countless line of them. Best case scenario, Sodom and Gomorrah would miraculously come crashing down to the ground and obliterate every sick bastard that entered it.

  No turning back, you motherfuckers.

  ****

  “Don’t leave anything out,” Gramma G said, sitting at the table for dinner. “Remember our agreement?” she pointed a firm blue gaze on him with stern pout. “No secrets. All the deets.”

  Daniel chuckled, laying the napkin in his lap. “All the deets, huh? You know more lingo than I do. Gramma, this looks amazing,” Daniel said, looking at all the food.

  “The Last Supper doesn’t have anything on my meatloaf,” she bragged.

  “You got that right. Load me up.” He held his plate next to the platter and let her serve him, eying the joy on her face. She loved serving him and that was hard for him to permit, but it was her thing. If Daniel had his way, he’d be waiting on her hand and foot. She was not only an angel, she was his angel.

  “First things first. Did you get the job?”

  “Yes ma’am, I did.”

  She nodded with a smile, piling mashed potatoes in his plate. “I knew you would. Good looking boy like yourself. Course they hired you. Did you make any friends?”

  He lowered his head with a smile, shaking it a little. “Now why you sound like you already know the answer to that?”

  “I don’t,” she cried in innocence. “But I did pray. You need good friends.”

  “Oops.”

  “Oops,” she muttered. “Pass those napkins. And there ain’t no oops in God’s business, you ought to know that by now.”

  “Not sure if she’s good.”

  “She?” she said, sounding pleasantly surprised. “What kind of girl did you meet that isn’t good?” she cooed, like the idea was silly.

  “I shouldn’t have said she wasn’t good. She’s just… troubled.”

  “Well of course she is,” she said. “That’s the whole world’s problem, everybody’s troubled. What seems to be the issue?”

  His Gramma was all earnest eyes and ears now. There was no getting out of telling her all the details. “I met her outside of Sodom and Gomorrah.” His Gramma sucked in a breath and he explained, “I had a dream about that place. That’s the only reason I was there. I was in the process of praying it got shut down when she appeared out of nowhere, blocking my path.”

  “Ohhhhh,” Gramma cooed, fascinated. “What for?”

  Daniel lowered his smile. “To ask me on a date.” He quickly stuffed his mouth with meatloaf.

  “And what did you say?”

  “That I don’t date women?” he mumbled around his food.

  “What?” she cried, setting her fork down. “What kind of nonsense is that, you don’t date women!”

  He regarded her with a smile, still chewing. “Was I supposed to tell her I’ve been locked up for the past seven years? I mean I can,” he said, grinning at her wide eyes and head shaking.

  “No, no, that won’t do. Not a good first foot to lead with.”

  “And I didn’t.”

  “How did she take that?”

  Daniel shrugged a little, wiping his mouth. “I think she’s in trouble. When I asked if she needed help, she freaked.”

  “What kind of freaked?” Gramma worried, her voice a coo again.

  “The kind that means she’s in a bad relationship.”

  “But she asked you on a date, how can she be in a relationship!”

  “Yeah. Like I said… she might not be good.”

  He finally looked up to find his Gramma frozen in perplexity before finally sucking in a breath. “Sodom and Gomorrah,” she whispered, her brow turning pained. “She’s got big troubles, Daniel,” like she finally got it and he needed telling.

  “I do believe.”

  “Poor child,” she muttered. “What will you do?”

  “Help her.” Daniel said, digging into his carrots.

  “How?”

  He looked at her plate and aimed his fork at it. “You haven’t eaten one bite.”

  “Well, I can’t,” she cried softly. “Not with all this news.” She turned to her plate and sipped on her Kool-Aid. “I’m an old, lonely woman. I don’t get much news you know.”

  “That’s funny,” Daniel said. “Were you making up all that stuff you wrote me daily while I was locked up?”

  “Heavens no,” she chuckled, pushing her food around. “I had to go dig around for that. I did that for you, you know.”

  “I know you did,” he chuckled. “You’ll fly off if your wings get any bigger.”

  “I’m no angel,” she chuckled back. “I’m a sinner just like the next person. So what was her name?” she asked, leaning forward.

  “Hmm. Good question.”

  “Oh, don’t tell me you didn’t even get her name. Good heavens, I’ll need to take you on a date and show you the ropes.”

  Daniel couldn’t stop his laughter as he looked at the twinkling eyes of his smiling Gramma. “Well I did say I didn’t date, but for you, I’d make an exception.”

  “First things first, you get a woman’s name.”

  “If it helps, I didn’t give her mine.”

  “What?” she cried. “What are you in, a competition of poor social skills? That’s terrible! A man must always give his Christian name when meeting a woman, I don’t care how troubled they are. It’s proper.” She nodded once with a stern look before that mischievous look returned to her face. “When will you see her again?”

  “Well, I have work at 7:00 in the morning. I get off at 3:00 and thought I’d swing by the place I met her. See what I can see.”

  “You know,” Gramma said, putting her fork down. “Gertrude knows everybody in Hell. I bet she’d know the name of your little girlfriend.”

  “Gramma, she’s not a girlfriend. She’s not even a friend.”

  “Oh stop it, of course she’s a friend. You did offer to help her, that makes you her friend.”

  “And she freaked out.”

  Gramma wagged her fork before getting back to stirring her food. “Of course she did. She probably never had any kindness shown to her in that way.” She leaned toward him. “You were a light in the darkness for that young lady.” She reached over and patted his arm. “You did good, Daniel. God is so proud of you.”

  Heat crept up his neck with the compliment. He wasn’t so sure but he hoped she was right.

  “I think this is a good start on your new life, don’t you?”

  “You don’t think it’s risky?” he wondered, kind of surprised.

  “Risky? What? Meeting a woman?”

  Daniel drank down his own Kool-Aid and gave a satisfying sigh. “You know what kind of place that is. What kind of people go there?” He eyed her and she gave him a guarded but knowing look.

  “I do,” she cooed, lightly with a nod. “But we both know that God’s business is cleaning up messes. So, of course it’s not going to be lilies and roses, it’s not supposed to be.”

  Right. “I’m going to take a ride into town,” he said, pushing away from the table. “You need anything?”

  “It’s so late,” she complained.

  “I just need to think. And familiarize myself with Hell. Maybe check out car lots while I’m out.”

  “They’re all closed,” she said, with wide eyes.

  “Exactly. Nobody breathing down my neck while I look.” He leaned and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be back before midnight.”

  “You stay out as late as you like. On second thought, be back here before midnight, you have work!”

  He chuckled, heading for the door. “I’m locking up behind me. Leave the dishes,” he called. “I need practice.”

  Chapter Three

  Nineveh leaned against the door jamb of Darius’s office, drawing on her earlier anger to give her nerve. “No luck on
our prospect today. He didn’t show. He’ll be there tomorrow.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest as Darius slowly spun his office chair to face her. He leveled that look on her, the one that drilled, searched and accused all at once. “That’s too bad,” he said with light disappointment that made Nineveh’s stomach knot. “Good thing I had a back-up arranged.” He smiled and lowered his gaze over her body, making her muscles tense. “Better get ready. Donald likes to play rough.” He met her gaze with raised brows. “I just got a brand-new script of muscle relaxers too. They’re in the bathroom cabinet.” He winked at her. “I’m always thinking of you baby. How was your day?” He held his arms wide. “No hug?”

  Six months.

  She made her way over to him and he jerked her into his lap. “How about you tell me all about our prospect? Does he make your pussy hot?”

  Nineveh’s stomach turned. “You know it. I better go bathe.”

  “It’s okay, Donald likes them dirty,” he whispered in her ear. “And I bet your very dirty, aren’t you?”

  She couldn’t do this. “Then I better go take my meds, I’m a little sore from last week still.”

  He hissed with a sympathetic moan. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve gotten you something for it?”

  She made her way out of his lap. “I’m good,” she mumbled, forcing her voice loud as she hurried to the door.

  “Wear that new outfit I got you,” he called after her. “He’ll be here in thirty. I’ve got to run out for a few things, so, let him in when he gets here. I told him he could play with you alone for a while.” He gave a low giggle. “I’ll be coming in in the middle while the action is hot.”

  Nineveh shut the door to the bathroom, pressing her forehead against it while Darius went on about how much he loved coming in while she was getting it good.

  She couldn’t do another night like that. Not tonight. She locked the door and hurried to the bathroom cabinet. Grabbing the chair near the tub, she quietly placed it by the small closet and climbed up, reaching above the inner wall to a ledge where she stashed a wad of money. She’d get a room and take her punishment at the hands of Darius later. She couldn’t handle another stranger beating on her and doing God only knew this time. Her insides were still store from the last psycho who enjoyed using the wine bottle on her after he pissed in it.