There’s a long silence before he lies on the bed beside me, and we both gaze at the ceiling quietly. Eventually, he reaches over and grabs my hands, wrapping his fingers around mine, and I hold his firmly because if this is what he needs, then this is what I’ll give him.
For a while, it’s peaceful, and I’m just dozing off when he speaks in a tone so low, I barely hear him. “This place is evil, baby doll. So evil.”
A chill raises goosebumps on my skin, and turning to my side, I gaze at his solemn expression in the moonlight. “That’s why we’re getting out of here.”
“Yeah,” he says and my heart lurches in my chest because he doesn’t sound convinced, and I need him to be on board.
I can’t stay here, and in this, I’m resolved whether Enzo or even Cole agree. “Enzo, what are you not telling me? We are leaving, right?”
“Yeah, but at what cost?” he says so softly I almost can’t hear him.
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing, baby doll. Go to sleep.”
“Enzo,” I start, but he rolls over and pulls my back to his front, effectively ending the conversation when he wraps his arms around me.
“Sleep,” he orders, and I roll my eyes but obey.
???
Enzo is gone when I wake in the morning, and I make my way to breakfast and eat quickly, not bothering to sit down. The events of yesterday have me jumping in my skin, and I don’t trust myself around anyone else right now.
After, I grimly follow the group toward the building where Shepherd holds his daily sermon and half wonder if maybe the hole wasn’t preferable to listening to his bullshit. I choose a seat at the end of an aisle, next to strangers, and gaze before me blankly. I have to make this look good because Shepherd and his minions may be watching, and I don’t want to come up short.
Cole and Marie sit down in front of me, and I frown. The room seats like 200 people; they seriously can’t find somewhere else to sit? Enzo is nowhere to be found, which I discover as I search the faces around me, and circle my necklace obsessively, worry making my stomach tight. I don’t know what he’s up against or what he’s doing, but it’s eating at his soul, and I’m worried about him. I’m also concerned about myself. The longer we’re here, the more I can feel my end racing toward me.
The room is nearly full when the noise drops and Shepherd steps out of one of the side doors and strides to the podium. As soon as he appears, I sink in my seat, hoping he won’t spot me in the crowd. He wears his usual jovial look, and I’m hoping this means the sermon will be rainbows and unicorns today instead of mayhem and sin.
“Greetings, flock,” he calls out in his strong voice.
“Greetings, Shepherd of the flock,” comes back in unison, and I shiver because the combined response is still creepy as fuck.
“Today, we mourn the loss of some of our flock who were taken down by evil. Where did this evil come from, you ask? It comes from all of us. From every one of you who has doubt in your soul. From those who sneak behind God and commit sin. For every one of you who doesn’t believe,” he shouts, his fist striking the lectern.
Several folks flinch at the movement, and I’m ashamed to say that includes me. His vitriol is a trigger of bad things to come, and my hands become sweaty at the thought. When I glance around, people are staring at him wide-eyed, some murmuring, others hanging on his every word.
“I am tired of trying to save people who don’t want to save themselves,” he shouts again. “If you’re not here to rebuild this world, to eradicate it of sin, then leave! There’s the door. Get the fuck out!”
Silence greets his words, shock on the faces of many, and Cole shifts in front of me. Marie reaches out and he grabs her hand. My eyes track the movement and fixate because I don’t blame her for being afraid, but a kernel of resentment wells in me that I don’t get to be comforted once again. I don’t get to be the one that he holds in a horrible moment.
“Bring out the sinners,” Shepherd says, interrupting my thoughts.
David stands and walks to a door, opening it and shooing out several people. To my horror, they’re young kids, early to late teens. One girl, with pale blonde hair and a pretty face, sobs quietly as her counterparts, two boys, try to be stoic although it’s easy to see the terror in their eyes.
Fuck me, but my heart sinks to my toes. These are just babies, and they don’t deserve whatever Shepherd is about to inflict on them.
“These children of God were found fornicating. Whores and defilers,” he screams, spit flying from his mouth.
The other girl wails, and I cringe at the sound as she drops to her knees and sobs. The girl beside her bends down and wraps her arms around her shoulders, the sight so pathetic I have to look away.
Shepherd, observing their terror, walks over to the girl and rubs his hand along her head. My skin crawls at the action, especially when her tiny body shudders under his touch.
Movement to the right brings my attention to Enzo, who exited another door at the front, where he stands with his hands crossed over his chest and a blank expression. So, this is what Enzo’s role is, henchman?
Shit, no wonder he’s been decidedly mercurial. This isn’t him. It can’t be. He’s doing what he has to do to survive, just like the rest of us.
Right?