Page 7 of His to Keep

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.Helpinghim.

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.

Chapter Four

My body is frozen. All I can do is stare at the door slammed shut in my face, trapping me in a room I shouldn’t be in.This isn’t real—itcan’tbe.But it is. Father Aaron has locked me in his house. In this room.

A shuffle behind me reminds me that I’m not alone. Turning to glance at the other occupant in the room, he stands over by the wall staring at me. With bewildered eyes, I take in his appearance. Tall and slim, he wears a black shirt, matching pants, and shoes. His skin is pale, and slightly messy hair falls over eyes with sleepless bruises beneath them. Eyes so blue they remind me of an ocean. There’s something strangely attractive about his face, but as I search for any hint he might hurt me, his eyes are vacant. So unsettlinglyempty,it’s like no one is there.

“Please,” I beg him, hoping he isn’t like the others. “Will you help me?”

He doesn’t answer, but his eyes drift to the door. His entire body stiffens as he jerks his head sharply to the left.Be quiet.

My heart sinks, and my eyes dart around the room in panic. The only bed is the one I’m sitting on. Wrought iron with white sheets. Near the end of the bed are an old chest of drawers and a desk with a matching chair. The walls are gray, and the floor wooden.The only bit of light comes from a tiny window on the other side of the room. I spot another door slightly beyond where the young man stands, and I edge around him to peek inside. He doesn’t move as I observe the tiny space. It’s a small bathroom. Dank and smelling musty, there’s an old-fashioned toilet with a dangly chain, a large tub, and a sink with a small mirror above it.

Stumbling back into the room, my chest squeezes. I’mtrapped. Running over to the window, I rip back the curtains. We’re higher than I thought, trees thick below. A long fall, the drop bone breaking. Not that I’ll be able to get past the jagged nails that have been hammered into the frame to stop it from opening.

“No.” Panic sets in, and I’m crippled under the intensity. The only way out is the way I came in—

A hand suddenly settles over my collar, and I whirl around. The man drops his hand and takes a step back. I can’t be sure if he’s trying to calm me, but whatever it is, doesn’t work. I’m scared. No,terrified.

“Please. Let me go home. I can’t be here. Do you understand?”

His shoulders lift and fall in a silent sigh, and I know it. Know inside my aching heart I’m not getting out of here. My thoughts drift to Father Aaron’s black car, the same one I kept seeing following me. Did he plan this? Waited for the perfect moment to strike?

If it’s true, why pick me up outside of school with so many witnesses? In front of Adam? Surely, he realizes this is kidnapping. But it hits me, and my knees buckle. Collapsing to the floor, I stare ahead. I got into Father Aaron’s car myself. No one saw him physically force me inside. It’d been soeasyfor him to trick me, and I believed him when he said Gran was at his house, because maybe he knew I wouldn’t ever disobey her. The mention of her name is a crack of a whip.

As tears of frustration, anger and fear sting my cheeks, I stare up at the man again. He silently watches my tears drip from my face and onto the floor. He opens his mouth to say something but closes it again. Backing away, he sits on the chair by the desk. Putting a shaky hand over my mouth, bile crawls up my throat. If it weren’t for the sudden snap of a lock behind me, I might’ve vomited. I lurch to my feet as Father Aaron strides inside.

“Ava.” His grin is still intact, as if he’s dropped the reserved act he had at church and is finally revealing the real man he is. Someone obviously insane. “I have a gift for you.”

Something is slung across his forearm that he gingerly unfolds and holds out before him—a long, white dress. The shape is simple, but the cream ribbon dangling around its tiny waist reminds me of something a doll might wear. Innocent, pristine, and pure.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” There’s an admiring note in his tone, excitement shining in his eyes. “It’s just for you.”

My head shakes, and I instinctively grab my school blouse, as if the light blue cotton is armor. “I don’t want it.”

I know, even before the words have left my mouth, that I’ve made a mistake. Father Aaron’s left eye twitches and his smile slowly drops. “Excuse me?”

“I don’twantnew clothes. I just want to go—”

“Home?” He sounds mocking. Disgruntled. I stupidly nod, though a part of me knows I’m treading on dangerous ground.

Surging forward, I cry out when he catches me by the wrist and pulls me so hard, I slam into his chest. His rich scent assaults me, and I can only eye the dark cotton of his shirt, blurred by a sheet of fresh tears.

“Thisis your home now,” he sneers, using the same tone he uses on Sundays to drill his point that we’re all damned sinners no matter what we do. “You.” I follow his line of vision to where the young man is sitting watching us. “Hold her.”

He remains seated, expression blank, though his eyes ruin the façade. Burning with an emotion that doesn’t take me long to name—defiance.

“Now!” Father Aaron barks, his grip tightening over my forearm, now trembling with barely suppressed rage. There’s a sadistic thrill to his tone, almost as if he’s excited about being challenged.A muscle works in the young man’s jaw as he eventually gets up. Father Aaron lets go of me, though I don’t have long to stagger back before a pair of cold hands take over and grab my shoulders. “Her blouse. Take it off.”

“No!” I shriek, not that either pay attention to me.

“Do it,” Father Aaron orders. “You know I can’t. Not yet.”

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