His to Keep by Lydia Goodfellow
Chapter Ten
When three hours pass, John comes for us. He says nothing as we go downstairs to the dining room, for once being patient with our weak movements, though not out of concern. He’s all but lapping it up.
Once there, I’m shoved into my usual seat, and Callum sits next to me. Father Aaron’s stony expression watches Penny pull the lid off a large pot, though I can’t bear to look at him straight on. The aroma of beef and dumpling stew fills the air as she serves food into individual bowls. My stomach clenches with pain. Saliva pools in my mouth as suffocating emotion builds in my chest. People shouldn’t be made to feel like this. It’s inhumane. Wrong.
Never knowing desperation like it, I can hardly wait for prayers to be over. After a hasty amen, I pick up the spoon and shovel beef and potatoes into my mouth. It scalds my lips and tongue, leaving a trail of bubbling heat all the way down to my stomach. But I don’t care. The bowl is empty in minutes, and Father Aaron nods, allowing second helpings. I eat slower, savoring every bite until I’m full and can’t possibly eat any more.
That’s when I notice Father Aaron’s eyes are on me, staring at me in a way that causes tension to crawl down my back. When he stands, my heart leaps, my body all too aware of what my brain doesn’t want to process. Ice fills my veins when he smiles and walks around the table, appearing between Callum and me. “Get up.”
I do without realizing it, my body quick to comply in fear of another punishment. Cold fingers brush my skin before settling around my upper arm. I breathe out slowly. Painfully. I don’t want to go anywhere with him. I don’t—
“You stay.” He pushes Callum back into his seat when he moves his chair back. My stomach coils. Why just me?
Glancing at me briefly, confusion furrows Callum’s brow when Father Aaron drags me away from the table. And when I see where he’s taking me, blood drains from my face.
“No!” He opens the door of horror and forces me inside. Screams echo around me, and at first, I think I’m about to meet his next victim. Until I realize it’s me—I’m the one screaming. The door closes, encasing us in darkness. A light somewhere flickers on, brightening the room but not truly casting the shadows away. This time, there isn’t a dead girl hanging from the ceiling. There’s no blood or dirt on the floor. It’s smaller than I remember, with no windows and a distinct smell of bleach.
Peering around, I search for anything to reveal someone died in here. My eyes land on something in the middle of the room instead—a table and chair big enough for one person. While it poses as an ordinary object, I know it’s not, given the thick leather cuffs nailed to the surface, perfectly placed to strap someone against it.
Father Aaron watches me with a disturbing smile, and I can tell he likes having me in here. Letting out a sigh, I watch as he walks around the table slowly, dragging a pale finger across the wood. “Take a seat.”
My stomach churns around the food I ate. My head’s about to shake when I stop myself. Defiance is a sin. It punctures my thoughts. I can’t go through being starved again. Reluctantly, I go over to the desk and sit. My body trembles in the small rickety chair as I wait quietly, praying I’ll get through whatever Father Aaron’s about to do.
“Put your hands on the desk,” he instructs.
Oh, God.
My hands shake as I do what he says, spreading my fingers over the surface. Father Aaron’s lips slither into an even wider smile. “Good girl.”
His breathing quivers—he’s excited, and it sickens me. I’m doing everything he’s asking me to do, and it’s clear he’s relishing it. He places his large hands in front of mine but thankfully doesn’t reach for the cuffs, though the action has him too close for comfort. He invades my senses, his cologne tickling the back of my throat.
“Ava?” I face the monster in front of me, unwantedly meeting his stare. “Listen to me, and you shall learn.” My eyes blink, confusion blanketing me. “Did you know not even God spared angels when they sinned? He cast them to Hell, wrapping them in chains of darkness to be held for judgment.”
What?
“I’ve been watching you, Ava.” He lets out a deep breath through his nose. “I watched you in church and how you deliberately kept partaking in sinful acts. Even your grandmother struggled to discipline you. I knew what you needed. Now that you’re here by my doing, judgment shall come. Consequences. Not only to you but to those you are closest to. And we wouldn’t want anything like that to happen. Especially not to your dearest grandmother.”
My eyes widen at his blatant threat. “Don’t hurt Gran, Father Aaron, pleas—”
“Then follow my rules. Obey me. Stop this disobedience. The punishments will only get worse, that I can promise you.” He covers his hand over mine, and I want to snatch my hand away. Not that he’d let me; his grasp pins me down like the cuffs would. “Hear me when I say my next punishment won’t be as lenient.”
A scream builds in my throat but doesn’t come. He used Gran to get me here, and now he’s using her to control me. It’s working, the weight of his words crushing me. No matter what our relationship was like, I don’t want Father Aaron anywhere near Gran. Grandpa once said that family is family no matter what. No matter what’s been said and done, we protect each other. Father Aaron knows where she lives. He knows she’s alone, and he has John to help. I’m already in chains, twisted in them, and the man with the key to my lock might never set me free. I have to do everything he says, or else Gran dies.
* * *
It’sdark outside when Father Aaron takes me back upstairs. Defeated from the turn of events, I walk inside myself without the forceful prod, which seems to please him that I broke so quickly.
Callum’s at his desk, looking over his shoulder at me, but I can’t meet his stare. Not yet. Standing in the middle of the room, I try and process what happened. What other rules will I have to follow, and what if it’s something awful? I’d have no choice but to do as he says for Gran’s sake.
Pushing my hands through my hair, there’s a violent ache in my chest that won’t go away. Anger shoots through me, simmering through my veins. How dare he do this. I hate him. I wish he were dead!
Callum lights a candle as I sit on the bed. All I want is to sleep, but my mind won’t stop. I think back to when I was a girl and how much I adored Gran. The woman she used to be is different from who she is now. I’ve held onto those memories, and now I find myself squeezing on a bit tighter, afraid to let go. No matter what she did and deprived me of, I can’t allow anything bad to happen to her. I must find out what Father Aaron wants from me, and maybe then I can find a way to escape—
“What are you thinking?” Callum’s voice breaks my thoughts. I turn to him, unsure how to answer, only knowing I don’t trust him enough to be honest.
“Nothing.”
His forehead creases. He knows I lied, but I don’t owe him anything. “What did he do?”
I don’t want to tell him. I want it out of my head. “Why are you asking?”
“You look sad,” he says, which surprises me. “Well…more than you usually do.”
I tilt my head. “You notice if I’m sad?”
Clearing his throat, he turns away, maybe embarrassed. I want to tell him he doesn’t have to be, but I decide to leave it. As silence floats between us, I lie down and close my eyes to sleep. As I’m about to drift off, I hear him say, “If your sadness looks that beautiful, then I can’t imagine what happiness looks like.”
My chest tightens. He’s trying to make me feel better, I think, and it’s working a little. “Maybe you will see it one day,” I whisper, clutching the front of my dress where my heart is beating.
“Yeah. Maybe.”