Page 40 of His to Keep

“Let him kill me!” I suddenly yell. “I don’t care!”

“Keep your voice down!” he growls at me. “Don’t ruin this.”

“You’ve already ruined it.”

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “The thought of him doing anything to you makes me sick. But if it keeps you alive...”

“No.” I stand up, unable to believe he’s saying this to me now. “I know what you’re doing.” My voice quivers, my heart beating fast as I pace the room. “You’re trying to put me off you, but it’s not going to work. What this is between us is unexplainable. Stupid and absolutely reckless. It’s happened so fast, and it’s confusing to us both. But kissing me and touching me and then saying I’m still to be your father’s is cruel! Do you even like me? Or am I just a whore like your mother calls me? How John sees me?”

“I donotthink you’re a whore!” His expression darkens. “And I wasn’t trying to put you off me, but if that’s what you want, then maybe this will. If letting him fuck you means you’ll live and stay with me, then yes, you’re his!”

His words shake me to the core, and I wish I hadn’t reacted at all. That we hadn’t had this argument that’s shown the rot in the seeds we’ve sowed. Maybe the feelings aren’t as strong for him as they are for me. I’mfallingfor him, I know it, and it means nothing. I’ll still be Father Aaron’s.

“Ava.” Callum breaks my trail of thought. A frown indents his brow, and guilt swarms in his eyes. “You know I don’t want him anywhere near you. I just don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

I nod, even though I’m still unnerved by what he said. But in his strange way, he’s trying to keep me safe. I think. “I know.”

“I keep saying it, but this really has to be the last time we do this. Before it goes any further.”

“I know.”

But I don’t, and I never will.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Days later, I come down with a fever. Father Aaron storms into the bedroom to demand why we haven’t come down for Christmas lunch. It’s Christmas, and I didn’t know.

I’d been feeling sick for the past couple of days, my body achy and exhausted, and when I woke this morning, I felt even worse, my lungs tight and my head thumping. Though, in a way, I’m glad I’m sick. I don’t have to think about missing Christmas. I had no idea. Father Aaron didn’t decorate his house with any sort of festive cheer.

Christmases at home were always memorable. Even the ones spent without Grandpa, Gran was always lovely on that day. It could’ve been because she enjoyed a few glasses of sherry, but either way, I always had a pleasant time. She liked it most when my father arrived, arms loaded with gifts, to spend Christmas with us. Unlike Momma’s, his presents were childish, suitable for a ten-year-old girl. As if in his head, I were still that young. When he had one too many drinks, he’d slur his guilt of failing as a father.

Now, I’m so sick I can barely open my eyes. When Father Aaron sees me in bed wrapped in blankets and shivering despite my raging high temperature, he acts cold and indifferent. Like me being sick is a hindrance he doesn’t want to deal with. As I cough and sneeze, he turns to Callum. “It’s the flu. She’ll be fine in a week or two.”

The flu. I haven’t had one this vicious in all my life, and I’m slightly afraid. The last time I was sick was when I was a child. When Grandpa cradled me in his arms while Gran spoon-fed me hot soup. Tears sting my eyes, wishing I had them both here now to make me feel better. My temples throb, and I groan into the pillow, which isn’t a good idea being so congested and brings on another coughing fit.

Disgusted, Father Aaron steps back as if I have a deadly disease. And God, how I wish I did, so I could kill him.

“She needs a doctor.” Callum glares at his father, who only glowers at him back.

“All sheneedsis Tylenol. There’s a blizzard outside. We were lucky to get back in it today.” I guess he’s referring to going into town for Christmas service to appease the parishioners. Since the last snowfall, the weather’s only gotten worse. The wind howling outside, which does seem like there’s a snowstorm out there.

“What if she gets worse?”

“Then she can havemore,” he replies coolly, leaving the room and slamming the door after him.

Sometime later, Callum wakes me to give me medicine. After washing pills down with water, I can barely mutter a thank you before I’m asleep again. I only wake when my lungs squeeze too tight, and I’m gasping for air. Or when I have a terrible dream, and I jerk awake screaming and yelling out, drenched in a pool of sweat. Callum’s always there to hold me. Rubbing circles on my back and then smoothing down my hair. He does it until I calm down enough to fall back asleep, where I’d then feel the softest of kisses graze my forehead.

“Don’t leave me,” I heard him say one time, not entirely sure when.I’m not leaving,I tried to say back, not sure if I said it or just think I did. Everything’s so confusing. “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have gone near you—you’re being punished because of me.”

I want to console him, to tell him it isn’t true, and people get sick all the time. But I don’t have the strength to. One night, as I’m burning up, not knowing how long I’ve been like this, I wake to find Callum not in the room with me. I’m too hot, parched for a drink, my nightdress clinging to me.

“Callum?” I rasp, throat killing me to even swallow. I get no reply. He isn’t in the bathroom, and the bedroom door is wide open.

It takes energy that I don’t have to push the sheets off and get out of bed. A wave of nausea hits me as I shuffle out of the hallway, body so weak, I realize it’s the first time I’ve done it on my own since the first day I came here and tried to escape. The hallway is dark and empty, and it seems like I’m floating as I go to the stairs. Music comes from below, and is thatscreaming? Am I dreaming?

Grabbing the banister once I get to the stairs, my head spins, making me see double of everything. That’s when a flash of white appears downstairs. Someone running and screaming. Is it Penny?

A figure in black dashes past also, and as I go to take a step forward to see who, my foot slips beneath me, and I lose my balance. Before I know it, I’m tumbling down the stairs, hitting my head when I reach the bottom with a thunderous loud bang. Someone yells my name, but I’m gone before I see who it is.

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