His to Keep by Lydia Goodfellow

Chapter Thirty-Four

The plan was concrete. Risky. The punishment, if we failed, was death. When Callum whispered to me his plan in the bathroom, I was terrified. It was reckless. Dangerous. And our only hope.

“You’re going to have to seduce him, Ava,” he’d said with certainty, like he’d already thought about it for hours. “When you get him alone, make him believe you want him. He’ll be too caught up in you; he won’t see me coming.”

“H-How far do I go?”

“All the way.” He kissed my forehead. “I’ll sort out everything else.”

“But the door…The gate? We haven’t thought this through—”

“I have,” he tried to reassure me. “They’ll be open. I’ll make sure of it. The moment I tell you to run, you do. And don’t look back.”

“Okay.” But what if something happened to him? What if he needed my help?

“Ava.” He grabbed my face with his hands, eyes dark and serious. “Swear it on my life that you’ll keep running.”

My heart broke when I said it. “I swear.”

He’d kissed me and said he better go before Father Aaron gets back from town. Maisie hadn’t woken when we went back into the bedroom, and I wondered if she was okay.

“I’ll come back and destroy that bed,” Callum declared, glaring at it.

I hugged him from behind, and he left. My heart in my throat and my life in his hands.

* * *

It’s just me,Father Aaron, and Penny when dinnertime rolls around. Callum stays away, and while Father Aaron thinks it’s because of his injuries from his punishments, I know better. Like Father Aaron promised, John disappears when he tells him he can take Maisie to his room for the evening, who had refused to come downstairs to eat after we both took the morning after pill.

It’s silent as we eat. I’m not hungry and woodenly chew on a piece of dry chicken. The only difference is that Penny watches me behind her hair, and it’s stomach-churning witnessing how much hatred comes off her. I almost want to yell at her that I’d rather be her than me right now, knowing it’s because Father Aaron has completed the ceremony, which means he no longer wants her. But the words I want to shout are now in a box buried.

“Come, Ava,” Father Aaron says the moment he clears his plate, the excitement in his voice hard not to miss. When Penny stands, he scowls at her. “Stay.”

Letting out a wail, she runs from the dining room, and I watch her go, hoping she stays away. Grabbing my arm, Father Aaron takes me upstairs and back to his bedroom. Despite the numbness, my heart bounces off my chest when he throws me inside and slams the door.

“Now to pick up where we left off.” He backs me up until we’re at the bed. Flipping me around, he goes to bend me over like how he did yesterday at the ceremony when I fight against him.

“N-no, my Lord. Must it be that way?” His lips push together. “I want it like how you said.”

“Then undress your Lord.”

Lifting my hands, I undo his buttons one by one, steadily. Pretending my hands aren’t shaking when they are. I guess I’m good at hiding it now.

My gaze drops, and he watches me closely as I push his shirt over his shoulders, dragging the fabric down his rigid, veiny arms. Traces of scars like Callum’s, though long since healed, hide beneath the wiry hair across his chest. Noticing me looking at them, he smiles. “Self-punishment is self-discipline. An old practice that I became quite fond of when I was with the Brotherhood. You may have heard me mention Brother Joseph before—”

How could I forget?

When he shouted, Brother Joseph warned me about the wickedness of girls like you!

“—he too was fond of the technique. It taught control. Restraint. How else do you think I’ve been able to resist you until it was time?” Something whispers in the back of my mind. Didn’t he try to teach Callum to do the same thing? Whip to discipline. “Lay your hands on me. Touch them.”

My stomach squirms uncomfortably as I lift my hand and draw trembling fingers through his hair. Reaching skin that’s disgustingly warm beneath my fingertips, even though he’s hard as stone. My teeth grit. I just have to make him believe that I want this. Want him. But I’m wavering; I feel it. Can I do this—go as far as I need to?

Am I strong enough?

“Do you like what you see? Feel?”

“Y-Yes, my Lord,” I lie, cheeks burning with heat. I go to drop my hand, but he grabs it and suddenly backs me over to the bed until cool sheets touch the backs of my knees.

When he uses his hand to shove mine between his legs, my breath hitches as he manipulates my fingers to wrap around his penis. “Feel me. Feel how much I desire you. I may never want anyone as much as I want you—not for the rest of my life.”

My heart almost fails me when he pushes me back against the bed. Lifting my legs, I try to back away from him and whimper when he catches my ankle.

I can’t do this—I can’t. Not with him. This beast has destroyed my life. “Ava…”

“No—”

“Don’t resist.” He climbs on top of the bed like how he did this morning. Hovering over me like a cloud of doom. Grasping the collar of my dress, he pulls until the buttons pop. “Let me undress you.”

My body brutally shakes, and I close my eyes, heart thumping so hard I fear it’ll burst out of my chest. Maybe I even want it too. For this, what I’m doing now, is wicked. His hands snatching and tugging at me.

I hope you know what you’re doing, Callum.

Once Father Aaron has my dress removed, he’s over me like a prickly rash that makes me want to scream and tear at my skin. His mouth sucks and licks and bites, his sharp nails leaving red patches and scratches wherever they go. I’m lost in a sea of terror, waves crashing over, keeping me pinned down and paralyzed. He kisses my mouth, telling me how much he loves and wants me. His mistress. His angel. His light.

How much further? How much longer?

All the way, Callum’s words echo in my mind, and tears drip down the sides of my face as his father continues marking my body as his. Drowning me in darkness.

It’s the only way. Play the temptress.

The Ava inside is lost. Gone. I was never aware of the power my body yielded. Not until I met Callum. When he awakened all these feelings inside me that I was taught are terrible. No one ever told me that when you’re objectified, to become the object. Because there’s no other way to win when a man you don’t want wants you.

Right now, I’m not sure if I’m winning or losing. The line is thin. Having Father Aaron do all these things to the body he so adores feels like losing to me. And I’ve lost enough. I’ve had enough.

Opening my eyes, I glance down at the monster ravishing me, my panties and bra now removed. My legs are spread, and he’s attempting to pull down his pants when I reach forward and grab his face, stopping him.

Confusion creases his brow as I shift beneath him. Lifting my head, my lips touch his, and I watch his eyes close. His body sagging, relaxing, trusting. Now I know what they mean when they say selling your soul to the devil.

Behind us, the wardrobe door slides open silently. Father Aaron moans and groans into my mouth that kisses him harder, keeping my hand anchored on the back of his neck so that he doesn’t turn around and see his son is behind him.

“Oh, Ava,” Father Aaron breathes against my lips as Callum silently approaches, the expression on his face darker than the shadows that gloom around candlelight. “The heat and delicateness of your skin would send a man to heaven and back. Tell your Lord how much you want him. How much you need him. Call me your master.”

Callum’s right there, behind him, and I stop breathing. Just one slight turn of Father Aaron’s head could ruin it all, and we wouldn’t get another chance.

All the way.I can’t back out now.

Gulping down a lump in my throat, I stare into his lustful, greedy eyes. Eyes I’ll never forget. Stroking the side of his face, he visibly shudders from my touch. “But you said lying is a sin, master.”

Lifting his arm, Callum plunges his father’s own blade into his back. Father Aaron roars out in agony, and I scream when blood drips all over me. Stumbling back, Callum watches wide-eyed as Father Aaron drops to the floor, knife still protruding from his back as he whirls around. “You! Demon!”

“Shut up and just die!” Callum yells at him.

Sitting up, I quickly pull my dress back over my head as Father Aaron’s mouth slithers into a smirk, showing his teeth covered in blood.

“You dare stab me in the back. And you.” He turns to me, and I yelp from the psychotic glint in his eye. “I should have known.”

“Ava, run!” Callum shouts, running at his father and pushing him back into a cabinet as he goes to grab me. Candles topple, and I gasp when the curtains immediately catch fire. Trying to keep him away from me, Callum turns to me. “Go! Get out of here!”

By the time I run to the door, the fire has spread to the bed. My heart bursts when Father Aaron’s fist swings into Callum’s face, knocking him backward. But I remember my promise to him earlier today.

Promise me, no matter what happens, you’ll run if I tell you to. You don’t wait for me.

I cry as I run down the hall. Callum forced me to swear to him that I’d leave him to deal with his father, but it’s breaking me to do it. What if Father Aaron gets the upper hand? What if Callum gets killed?

Turning a corner, I slam into a body and fall back onto the floor.

“What…what are you—” Penny inhales when there’s a crash in the direction I came from. Staring past me, her terrified eyes widen, but I don’t turn around. I don’t want to see the catastrophe behind me. “What did you do?”

My body flinches when she flings herself forward, but she doesn’t hit me like I think she might. Instead, she runs past me. Getting up, I flee. Only, the moment I get to the stairs, I stop.

Maisie.

The first traces of smoke tickle my nose. The fire’s spreading, and I know I need to get out. But I can’t leave her. I may not know who I am anymore, and she may never do the same for me, but I’ll never forgive myself if I run out of this house without her.

I run to John’s room.

“Maisie!” I throw open the door, and everything turns to slow motion, absolute horror greeting me. Blood. Blood’s everywhere. Splattered up the walls, covering the crucifixes hanging upside down. Like how it was with Orla, only there’s not much left of Maisie, who has been handcuffed to the bed. Stripped and beaten so violently, her face no longer exists. Just her hair and parts of her body.

I retch and vomit. It spews past my lips, scorching my throat. John did this to her, but he isn’t here. His wardrobe and drawers are empty. He’s gone.

Putting my hand over my mouth, I sob hysterically as I back out of the room, unable to believe she’s dead. That John killed her.

Run, Ava!

Turning, I rush downstairs, hearing screaming and shouting behind me. And still, even though I’m dying on the inside wondering if Callum’s okay, I don’t turn back. I just keep going.