His to Keep by Lydia Goodfellow
Chapter Thirty-One
We’re taken to the bedroom. The bedroom Father Aaron told me never to forget after bringing me here months ago. This room has done nothing but haunt me, taking root in my nightmares.
Darkness descends beyond the room. The candles lit create a dim glow against the walls. Incense burns somewhere, causing a smoky mist that coats my windpipe. The red sheets on the bed give me shudders.
It’s time for the ceremony.
Father Aaron’s words echo inside my head, injecting fear into every part of my body. It’s happening. The ceremony is happening. Unexpectedly thrust upon us without warning. Is this the birthday “treat” he’d mentioned or was Maisie’s stunt at dinner the last straw?
While I’m still furious with her, here we are, holding tightly onto each other’s hands. Both of us shaking with absolute terror. Because in the end, we’re the only ones going through this.
Father Aaron’s not here, but Penny is, fussing over us both. Complaining about the crease in Maisie’s dress and the tangle in my hair. “You must be perfect. Everything must be perfect for our Lord.”
Just as I’m about to tell her to get off me, the door opens, and Father Aaron walks inside shirtless. The breath knocks from my lungs. Dark hair dusts a muscular chest and down a rippled stomach. His arms are thick, eyes darker than night as he kneels by the bed and mumbles a prayer. After completing the sign of the cross, he stands. Rushing over to him, Penny bows and kisses his knuckles like he’s a king. “My Lord.”
She gives him a box, and after opening it, he takes a thread of rosary beads from it. Wrapping them around his hand, he moves his head from side to side. “Bring me one.”
Whipping around, Penny grabs Maisie first. “N—no!” I wince when she squeezes my hand. “Don’t let go of me. Please!”
I try my hardest to keep my grip on her. But Penny pushes me back, the same time puncturing Maisie’s wrist with long, dirty nails. Letting go, she screams and cries as Penny shoves her toward Father Aaron.
My chest squeezes, and I start crying. I want to scream, stop. I want to do something. Anything. But my tongue is tied, and I can’t move. I’m so scared. So afraid of what’s about to happen.
Father Aaron grabs Maisie, who screams. I’m numb to the bone as he battles with her before roughly forcing her face down into the bed. She cries and claws the silk sheets as Father Aaron lifts her dress from behind and then pulls down her panties. Gripping her hips, he gets into position. She cries louder, and my stomach turns. “Keep still and accept your Lord.”
“No, no. Please don’t!”
He undoes his pants and then touches between her legs, sliding his finger inside of her. She screams, and he sighs. “Penny. Bring the anointing oil.”
As Penny rushes to do his bidding, Maisie turns her head and looks directly at me. There’s thunder swirling around the tears in her eyes. She might try something, and I shake my head at her. She can’t. He’ll see it coming and kill her. Realizing this herself, her eyes dim, and she goes quiet, not resisting as he pours oil over her and rubs it in. But then she bucks. “Ow. It burns! Stop!”
I turn away as he pulls down his pants and exposes himself. I squeeze my eyes together, not having to see to know he’s inside of her. The sounds are enough. Her stomach-churning scream, the grunts that come from his throat, the way the bedsprings shriek in protest. My heart shatters and breaks right there as he suddenly roars out with pleasure. And then it’s over, and my eyes flicker open, unable to believe it was so quick.
When I look back, he’s pulling up her panties and nudges her to move. She does, face flushed and eyes wide as she staggers away and takes her place beside me again. She doesn’t look at me. She doesn’t even blink.
“Ava.” My stomach swoops. I want to throw up. Fear punctures through my veins as Penny nudges me to move. Already? But he just had Maisie.
“Go,” she hisses, finger and nail jabbing me in the back. Lifting my eyes, they connect with Father Aaron’s. His penis is still out, hard and bloody and threatening. And I know that my worst nightmare is about to come true. He’s going to take me.
Emotion thickens in my throat as I stumble over to him. By the time I’m near him, I’m violently shaking. Grabbing me, he does what he did with Maisie, bending me over like he did her.
“My sweet Ava,” he whispers as I feel my dress sliding upward over my backside. “How long I’ve wanted this.”
Grabbing the sides of my panties, he drags them down my legs and then palms me from behind. I float out of my body. Or that’s what it feels like as he puts his finger inside of me. My stomach turns, waiting for him to use the oil on me, only he doesn’t. Instead, he chuckles and leans over me. “You’re already so wet, my perfect angel. So ready and willing for your Lord.”
My eyes widen, the result of what I did with Callum still between my thighs. Sobbing even harder, tears scorch my skin and dampen the sheets as he continues pushing his fingers in and out of me. Then, without warning, he thrusts inside of me. I grit my teeth from the pain. He roars out, and I bite back a scream, smothering my face into the blanket.
Ava, Callum punctures my thoughts like a floaty whisper in a dream. For a moment, I wonder if I’ve passed out, but I can still feel Father Aaron on me, behind me. But Callum’s there, arms open for me to run to, only I hesitate. Did he use me? Did he use me like how his sick father is now?
Though, even seeing his face in my head makes my heart spasm. Come to me. Only think of me, I hear his voice again. I do. I think of him, of his arms wrapped around me. Holding me tightly and taking me far away. Away from what’s happening to me. I go into the woods with Callum. I’m giggling excitedly as he chases me around the trees, knowing once he catches me, he’s going to kiss me.
“I always said once I had you, I’d take my time to savor you. You’re mine. My very own angel.” Father Aaron moans in the distance, still inside of me, far longer than he was with Maisie.
Maisie. She’s suddenly there, in my head, and Callum wraps his hands around her slim throat, the buttons of her nightdress loose. She’s beautiful and wicked and maybe his type. Did he fantasize about her? Is that why he drew her? Should it be her running through the woods instead of me?
There’s a loud roar, and Father Aaron pulses inside of me. The memory of Callum fades as he takes his time pulling out of me and pulls my underwear back up my legs. Still breathing heavily behind me, I get off the bed and stagger away, not quite feeling like I’m in my own body.
“This is where you will both stay from now on. With me,” Father Aaron says, inclining his head toward the bed. I’m numb as we stagger over to Father Aaron’s bed, his seed thick between my thighs. “I’m in the middle.”
Maisie and I don’t make eye contact as we let go of each other. Getting into different sides of the bed, Father Aaron slides in between us with only his underpants on. Keeping my eyes closed, I will sleep to come, trying not to think of Father Aaron’s hands seeking me out. Touching me in places an older man should never touch a teenage girl.
* * *
When we wakethe next morning, Father Aaron’s not there. In the place where he slept between us are two thick envelopes. One with Maisie’s name, and the other with mine.
She opens hers first with trembling fingers, and the moment she starts reading, tears well in her eyes. A few seconds later, she slaps her hand over her mouth. “No. No. No.”
“What is it?” I ask, my own envelope weighing a ton on my lap.
“It’s a letter from my dad. It’s like he thinks I’m in some boarding school or something. My boyfriend—he was deployed to Afghanistan. His base was targeted, and he’s missing.” She sobs a bit louder. “He wasn’t supposed to go, Ava.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, watching her face get paler.
“I’m going to be sick.” Gagging, she gets off the bed and runs into the bathroom.
Swallowing thickly, I tear my own envelope open. My hands tremble as I pull out a piece of paper with handwriting I recognize.
Dearest Ava, it reads. I hope you’re doing well at your new accommodation. Our Lord, Father Aaron, has assured me that you are settling in well. When we spoke about St. Bridget’s housing for young women, I wasn’t sure if you would understand my decision to send you there. You see, Ava, I’m dying. Like your dearest grandfather, I too have caught the blackness that rotted him. A cancerous brain tumor, like my father, had. One too aggressive to treat. My time has come. God has given me a long life, and I am finally ready to accept his way. Father Aaron came to me about his premonition of you going down the devil’s path after my death. I knew sending you back to your parents in the city would be detrimental to your wellbeing. That’s when Father Aaron suggested St. Bridget’s, and I trust our Lord has explained that you are meant to be so much more in this world. I’m sorry I never got to say goodbye. Father Aaron noted that you would be upset. It was your grandfather’s dying wish that our house is left to you after we both die. I don’t have long left, so when you return to Little Willow, it will be waiting for you.
Gran.