Page 3 of In God's Name

After an hour of setting the clinic up and sulking around like a child who was denied their favorite candy, I head towards the back , towards the staff area, to stuff the cleaning supplies back into the janitor's closet when a firm hand grips my shoulder. “Joe!” I squeal as I jump back.

“I’m sorry Lilith, I didn’t mean to scare you, but uh..” He trails off as his weight shifts back and forth on his feet. “I

need to talk to you, can we step outside?” My heart drops to my stomach thinking over everything I did last night. Did I forget to lock up the meds? Did I miss a bathroom stall? I say a silent prayer as we head out back together.

As soon as we’re outside Joe pulls off his coat and drapes it over my shoulders, protecting me from the cool breeze. He rubs a palm over his scruff, showing off his aging features. He’s barely thirty five, yet this job has taken a toll on him both mentally and physically. You can only see so many people lose their lives to addiction before you start questioning your faith. For a while, Joe had lost his faith in our Lord for a few months earlier this year, and it took a lot to lead him back to the light.

“You haven’t had your phone on today have you?” Instantly my mind reels at the accusation. My phone is still sitting in my car. “ No , Joe!” I respond with a hint of fear in my voice, I hate being in trouble. “Goodness no, you really don’t think I’d do that do you?”

Joe raises his hand to quiet me before responding, “ No , Lilith. You’re not in trouble.” His light blue eyes fall to the ground and his hands begin to fidget with the name tag dangling from the lanyard wrapped around his neck. His uncertainty has me more on edge than I was before.

“What’s going on Joe?” I ask as I reach out, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s all over the news. Mary saw it this morning after we finished up paperwork.”

“What’s going on? What did she see?” I whisper, internally begging my racing heart to quiet down so I don’t miss

whatever has him so upset. “John’s dead.” Our eyes meet and neither of us dare to look away as his words hang in the air between us. “What..?” I respond once I’m able to find the strength to speak again. Joe’s voice lowers to barely a whisper, “They say it was a car theft gone wrong. They found him this morning.”

He continues to ramble on about how he recognized him immediately since John has attended a few meetings here. How the car was found wrapped around a tree, and his driver, dead from the crash, testing positive for lethal amounts of methamphetamines. And how my brother was found murdered in the back seat.

As he ends his ramble I still can’t take my eyes off of him. I can’t move. It’s as though my feet have embedded themselves into the concrete below us. For a while everything stays silent. My heart rate slows to almost a stop and the traffic passing by the front of the shop seems to be muted. The only thing I can hear are the broken breaths leaving Joe’s lungs.

“I’m going to give you some space.” His voice cuts through the air breaking me out of my trance. “If you want to take the day off you’re more than welcome to leave. I know everyone grieves differently, but if you want to stay that’s okay as well.” He wraps his hands around my arms and strokes them gently. “Just let me know what you decide.” And with that I’m left standing on the sidewalk, staring at the white bricks of the building.

That night I find myself with a senior from CU Boulder in between my legs and groaning in my ear. Sex is my guilty pleasure, and I’ve asked God countless times to help me escapethis sin, but he hasn’t answered my prayers yet. Tonight my sin was a tall, blonde hair, blue eyed man who bought me an appetizer, promised he was clean but still okay with using condoms, and was ready to go. I know this is wrong of me, but sex has become my outlet. Sex is where I can be in charge and where I’m desired and wanted. Even as someone who’s more submissive, I’m in control. These men feel so big and strong thinking they can order me around and have me begging for them, yet the powerplay couldn’t be more different. They are only in charge because I allow it. They are only made to feel as though they can have whatever they want because I allow it. They only have me at their beck and call because, you guessed it, I allow it.

After the horrors today gifted me, this is exactly what I needed to regain some control. The man grabs my thighs, digging his nails in, and pushes himself into me. His dick slides in, earning a moan out of me. He growls, “What a good little slut. So wet and tight for me.” His thumb begins circling my clit, earning yet another desperate moan. I can feel myself dripping down my thigh and onto the bed below us. My hand wraps around his tanned arm and I use the leverage to bury him deeper inside of me. Blondie adds more pressure onto my swollen nub as his other hand digs harder into my thigh. The pain and pleasure swirl together as the orgasm begins to build in my stomach. “Oh my gosh, please don’t stop!” I scream as

the sensation starts to reach its height. My back arches off the bed and I’m so close.

“Oh fuck,” he grunts as he comes inside of me. The disappointment floods where my orgasm was building.

“Whoo! Good game,” he chuckles, and the disappointment races from my stomach and out of my mouth. “Please get out of my apartment,” I sigh, still staring up at the ceiling.

“What?” He stutters, “Didn’t you come? I felt that pretty pussy tighten around me.”

“No blondie, I didn’t. Now will you please get out so I can help myself before I’m too annoyed to finish.”

He gets up, grabbing his clothes and mumbling about how rude I am and how every woman at that bar would’ve been lucky to have him in their bed. I drown out whatever else he says before he slams the door. The guilt of the sin takes over me as I bury my face into my pillows. The only thing that drowns out the guilt is the grief, which is a much worse feeling. The silence is filled with my thoughts.

Your brother is dead.

Your brother was murdered.

Jacob , my brother's driver, never did drugs. How was he on meth?

Your niece and nephew don’t have a dad anymore.

Over and over and over, and before I know it I’m knelt over the toilet dry heaving while tears race down my face. Once I catch my breath I lean against the bathroom and pull out my phone, desperate to come regardless of how many prayers I’ll need to say, and desperate to make my thoughts shut up.

Hey Elijah I heard you’re back in town?

I stare at the screen trying not to get my hopes up, but they sky rocket when three little dots pop up.

Hey I am yeah. Sorry I haven’t reached out since I left. I had some things to take care of.

Oh that’s fine.

I know this might seem out of pocket but do you want to come over?

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