When he leaves, slamming the door behind him, I stare after him. His footsteps quiet and disappear, and the girl I share a wall with cries quietly on the other side. A chill sinks into my bones, and I yank up the blanket, wrapping it around me and trying to understand everything that just happened.
He gave. I shake my head. He didn’t take anything from me. Not like I expected. Not like in the past. Adam had pushed me, showed me the extent of his control, but instead of taking advantage, he gave.
I lie back and stare at the beams in the ceiling, though Adam plays like a movie before my eyes. When a scream cuts across the hall and dies out, I try to shake myself out of it. This place is hell, and Adam is just another one of its devils.
Maybe he gave tonight, but he’s a taker. They all are. It’s just another mindfuck. He doesn’t have to do these things to me, to anyone. He enjoys it. He’s a sadist just like all the rest. I close my eyes and curl into a ball.
My mind repeats the sins of this place, of Adam. But my body is forever changed and so, I fear, is my heart.
Chapter 26
Adam
Sunday’s church service begins with the usual prayer and exhortation for the Holy Ghost to inhabit the space as the Prophet takes the stage. The sanctuary is bedecked in Christmas finery, huge garlands hanging from each level of balconies and draped across the front of the stage. Heavenly Ministries spares no expense for the season, setting up a live manger scene out front that runs around the clock every day, replete with a crying or sleeping baby.
The seasonal décor only reminds me of the impending winter solstice. Preparations are underway, but three weeks isn’t much time. Newell was half-assing it, but I can’t do the same. My father expects me to fail, to go small. I intend to knock his fucking block off with the spectacle. Not that it will bring me much comfort. But, for once, I have something in common with normal father-son relationships. Or, at least I think it’s normal to want to blow up the old man’s shitty expectations. Maybe it’s twisted, too.
Delilah kneels in her customary spot, eyes down, hands folded. Ghostly in her white gown, she seems to hesitate between this world and the next. An ephemeral spirit, one I will slowly darken with each touch of my hand, each word from my lips. I am the poison that will drain her spirit, the wolf that will rend her limb from limb.
Those cold facts didn’t stop me from tasting her last night. I shift from one foot to the other as my cock wakes up. She does that to me, just the thought of her, the way she looks on her knees. It took all my self-control to tear myself away from her after I feasted on her cunt. I made it home, only to jerk it for all of thirty seconds before spending on my stomach as I lay in bed, the video of me between her legs on replay. I wish I still had her taste on my lips. But I’d get my wish this evening.
“—in the coming war.” I cock my head as my father goes off script.
“You see, there is a war coming, my friends. One that we haven’t prepared for. But it’s one we must win.”
Noah elbows me and mouths what the fuck?
I shrug. This is new. The teleprompter is stopped on the words “We must pray to our Heavenly Father for a prosperous…”
Those words don’t come from Dad’s mouth.
“The fallen of this world will seek to destroy us. The good people here—the heathens out there want you dead.”
Some voices of agreement rise from the packed house. The rest of them are silent, staring wide-eyed as my father preaches the end times.
“Terrorists, feminists, Jews, atheists, Muslims, illegal immigrants, socialists, Black Lives Matter, communists, baby-killers, the godless who are so depraved they won’t even say the words ‘Merry Christmas’ anymore, and even worse, transgenders who mutilate themselves and want to do the same to your children, the gays who prey on the weak—”
More angry shouts echo in the sanctuary, and the hackles on my neck rise.
“All of these are forces of evil. Every single one of them wants to hurt us. To hurt you.” He points to the congregation. “Bobby Williams. Your daughter, Ivy. Right now, there are men out in the fallen world who covet her. Who look at her 15-year-old body and think lascivious thoughts.”
I stifle a dry laugh. My father has coveted Bobby’s daughter since she was twelve.
He points to another congregant. “Penny Barnes, you’re a widow raising three kids. How can a single mother possibly be able to fight off the demons of this world when she’s out there alone?”