His to Keep by Lydia Goodfellow
Chapter Three
The sound of the final school bell erupts throughout the building, and I sense everyone around me sigh with relief. Gathering my books from my desk, I barely hear the teacher’s strict comments about homework as I rush out of the classroom, knowing I need to get home and help Gran with dinner.
Weaving through the students gathering outside, I’m about to jog down the street when someone calls my name. Turning, I spot Adam trying to catch up with me.
“You move fast,” he says. “You ran out of class before I had a chance to ask if you’d like to walk home together?”
Just as I’m about to tell him sure, an engine growling has me glancing sharply over my shoulder. The same black car from yesterday sits next to us on the sidewalk, the haunting shade of ebony unforgettable. My heart thuds when the window lowers, and at first, I struggle to register the familiar thin face, sculpted lips, and piercing gaze I know lurks behind sunglasses. But I’ll never forget a voice like his.
“Afternoon, Ava,” Father Aaron greets in a way that sends a cold chill down my spine. “I’m here to collect you.” Collect me? Seeing the confusion on my face, he smiles. “Did your grandmother not tell you that I’ve invited you both to my house for dinner tonight? She’s there now and sent me to fetch you.” I peek a glance at Adam, a frown appearing behind his curls. He thinks this is weird, and I don’t blame him. Gran and her friends often have dinner with Father Aaron. He’s the only man Gran trusts to enter her home. But she never told me we were going to his house for dinner this evening, and as if reading my mind, he adds, “She wanted to discuss the finer points of the sermon on Sunday. Get in. She’s waiting for us.”
“Oh…I—”
“You may go, young man,” he refers to Adam, who nods uncertainly and backs away. He looks uncomfortable and I’m so embarrassed. If he didn’t think I was weird before, he does now.
“I’ll see you later.” As he moves away, I almost plead with him not to go. To not leave me alone. I don’t, and he joins his friends. Glancing back at Father Aaron, he too watches Adam go with lips pulled tautly, and I gulp.
“I’m sorry, Sir. Gran didn’t tell me.”
He nods stiffly and offers another one of his smiles that makes him look like he’s in pain. “She must have forgotten to mention it. Not to worry. Come now. Let’s not keep her waiting.”
If Gran found out I was delaying him, she wouldn’t be pleased, but the heaviness in my lungs is hard to ignore. “Are you sure it’s today, I—”
“Ava.” His voice is more profound than before, the demand clear. “We don’t want to upset her, do we?”
Of course. He’s right. Why am I questioning him?
Circling the car to the passenger’s side, Adam watches from the corner of his eye. I wish I could’ve walked home with him. Going to Father Aaron’s house is the last place I want to go.
As I pull open the door, a burst of rich cologne assaults my senses, so potent I want to slap my hand over my nose to block it out. My eyes scan the car’s interior warily, black upholstery and chrome paneling. It’s clean inside, brand new, and my throat tightens as I settle over the padded leather seat and close the door. Even though there’s no justifiable reason, I’m overcome with a fear I’ve made a terrible mistake.
There’s a soft whirring sound as the window rises, encasing us in shadow. Icy air from the AC blasts against my skin, more painful than soothing, and I’m shivering by the time the car starts moving.
“How was school?” He shatters the silence between us.
“Fine, thank you.”
“Who was that boy?” I glance at him with confusion.
“Pardon, Sir?”
“That one just now.” His knuckles turn white as he grips the wheel. “Your boyfriend?”
My eyes widen a fraction. “No, Sir. He’s not. He’s a new student.”
“Do you have one?” he continues the onslaught of questions, and I’m so uncomfortable, I want him to stop. He faces the road, eyes still hidden behind shades he doesn’t need to wear in the darkened confines of the car. Although I’m glad he has them on—I hate his eyes.
“No,” I murmur, hating that he’s asking me these things when it’s none of his business.
“It’s okay if you do, Ava.” There’s amusement in his tone now, and I don’t understand what’s so funny. “I know a lot of girls your age have boyfriends. I hear it often in confession.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
He laughs. “Of course, you don’t. Girls who bask in the light of angels do not serve boys.”
My gaze drops to my lap, and he chuckles, amused by my reaction. As shivers wrack my spine, I peer out of the window apprehensively, body so tense my muscles hurt. I can’t relax, even less so when the car approaches the road that leads to my house. Gran’s car is in the driveway, and the porch light is on, her way of signaling she’s home. Did she forget to switch it off before leaving? She’s always meticulous about it. Always going on about the electricity company stealing her money.
The locks inside the car click, and a coldness settles in my stomach. “I offered to drive her over earlier. There was something wrong with her car. That’s why she didn’t collect you herself.”
I nod slowly, though I don’t remember her mentioning anything being wrong with it. I can’t imagine what would be. The old Buick was Grandpa’s, and she never let so much as a tire fall into disrepair, treating it with the same reverence as she does everything he owned. With absolute care. As the stone house fades into the distance in the car’s side mirror, I’m more uneasy by the second.
“Where do you live?” I hope it’s not far from here, but he doesn’t respond. A smile shapes his colorless lips instead, the effect more chilling than kind, and I’m not entirely sure he heard me.
Wiping my sweaty palms against the fabric of my skirt, I exhale anxiously as we turn off the main road and venture down a narrower lane. It’s darker along here—the feathery willow trees replaced with colossal oaks. Their twisted, sharp branches hang low and block out the sunlight. My nails dig into the seat as Father Aaron speeds around bends. My stomach somersaults, and just as I think we might crash, he takes a sudden turn off the road and journeys along a bumpy dirt track.
Fifteen minutes later, we come to a long drive overcome by weeds and last winter’s fallen debris. Among the dark green foliage of a forest, a building hides. A rundown Victorian house stands tall, face battered and weatherworn, the paint murky gray and peeling. The windows are narrow, and every shutter is tightly closed. I can almost picture the ominous shadows looming inside as if they’re pulled to shield the true darkness lurking in its depths.
After parking near the rickety porch, Father Aaron cuts the engine and unbuckles his belt. While I know I’m meant to copy his actions, I shrink back into my seat, eyeing the unwelcome house nervously.
“Take your belt off, Ava.” Father Aaron’s voice coils the knot tighter inside of me. Knowing I’m being ridiculous, I unclasp my belt. As soon as I open the door, a gust of wind knocks me back. Almost as if in warning—
“Come along,” he calls, already by the porch.
“S-Sorry,” I clamber to move, shutting the door behind me. The steps groan beneath my shoes as I climb the stairs of the porch. Putting his hand on my shoulder, the chill from Father Aaron’s fingers seeps through my cardigan and shirt, and my body violently shudders.
The front door is already ajar, and darkness shrouds it. Every bone in my body goes rigid, and once again, I hesitate. “Gran’s inside?”
“Of course.” His eyebrow rises sardonically, and I feel stupid for asking. But why didn’t Gran tell me? Why did she leave the porch light on?
Shoving me forward, he forces me to step over the threshold of the house. We enter a dimly lit hallway with dark wooden floors and deep red wall paneling enhanced with golden accents. The inside is unexpected and odd, given how worn the outside appears. To the right is a carpeted staircase, and opposite, a dominating antique cabinet. The only light source comes from a lone candle that dances frantically in the breeze from the open door. It’s uninviting and gloomy, and I want more than anything to leave.
But Father Aaron jabs me in the back to keep moving. As I stumble inside, I peer down at the black and white photographs as we pass the cabinet, freaked out by the gaunt, unsmiling faces that stare back at me.
“In here.” He guides me into a large room—a lounge. While it’s not untidy or dirty, it’s not pleasanteither. It has two black couches on opposite ends of the room, and a sizable black and red rug in the center opposite a cold marble fireplace.
Father Aaron takes a seat on one of the couches, and instead of offering me to sit like one might a guest, he only stares in a way that makes me uncomfortable.
“Where’s Gran?”
My scalp prickles with unease when he doesn’t say anything right away. Why isn’t he telling Gran that I’m here?
“Do you want to know something, Ava?” he pierces the silence, cold eyes locked with mine. “Do you know lying is a sin?”
He lectures on the subject every Sunday—sins, avarice, and deception. “Yes, but I didn’t—”
“Lies are sins.” His eyes darken to a thundery shade of blue. “The Lord detests lying lips, but he delights in those who are truthful. And you have not been telling the truth, have you?” Tension hangs in the air, and I take a step back. What is he talking about?
“Can I see Gran now?” My legs tremble. “Please, I want to see her.”
He waves his hand, his top lip curling with annoyance. “Your Grandmother isn’t here.”
“What?” My heart slams painfully against my ribcage as I try to grasp onto what he’s saying. “But you said—”
“She’s not.” My head whirls. He lied? Why would he lie?
At that moment, two figures appear in the doorway. I turn quickly, hoping it’s Gran and Father Aaron’s joking, but a strange man and woman stand there instead. The woman is older, and I can’t help noticing how thin and pale she is beneath a black dress that hangs off her frame. The man is the same. Tall and skinny with a haggard, angular face, dark eyes glinting beneath stringy brown hair.
“This is Penny and John,” Father Aaron introduces, but I’m no longer listening. The thumps of my heart are too loud. “My family.”
“I-I need to go home.” I’m hyperventilating as the walls close in on me. These strangers are too. They slowly walk over to me while Father Aaron sits calmly, watching with a smirk I’ve never seen him wear before.
“Don’t fear, Ava. This is Divine Providence. You are where you’re meant to be.”
“No!” I scream when John grabs my arm. I’m pushed with force back into the hallway and ruthlessly dragged toward the staircase. The back of my throat seizes up, splitting open as I scream. Trying to hit, bite, and scratch the man, nothing I do delivers enough damage to free myself. He’s too strong and able to manipulate whatever I might do next.
“Get off me!” Pulling against him, I’m surprised when I do break free. But I lose my balance and drop to the floor, my hands and knees slamming into the wood. My eyes sting with tears as pain shoots up my thighs from my kneecaps.
“Pick her up,” Father Aaron sneers from behind, and I’m hauled to my feet.
This time, John grabs the back of my neck, and his fingernails splinter my skin. I cry as he battles me up the stairs. By the time we reach the top, I’m exhausted and sobbing. Barely able to discern my surroundings, he marches me down a dark corridor lit faintly with candles. A door comes into view. A door the woman, Penny, obediently holds open for him. Helping him.
Before I know it, I’m catapulted inside and flung onto a bed. Whipping around, I try to get up, only to feel a hand ram into my chest and then another crashing down against my cheek. The smack forces me even further into the bed, the assault shocking me to the core as pain bursts over my face. Panting heavily, John glares down at me with fury before backing away.
His swamp-colored eyes shoot across the room, and when I look in the same direction, I’m confronted with another pair of blue ones. A young man, possibly a few years older than me, is on the other side of the room, standing so still he looks like a statue.
“Your turn,” John sneers at him and then laughs coldly. The sound echoing all around the room as he walks away and slams the door behind him.