Luke's Rogue Bride

by Rayanna Jamison

  And suddenly he knew.

  A call to his father confirmed his worst fears. The Atwoods were gone, and had been for several days. How had he not known this, he chided himself angrily. You’re the freaking bishop, and those people are your in-laws. It was true the Atwoods were not as involved in the community as most, and they tended to keep to themselves, but really. How could he not have noticed?

  And the clincher, how could Carolyn not have told him? It was plain to see that she had known all week, and she had said nothing. The realization had the hair on the back of his neck standing on end as he turned towards the airport. His heart was in his throat and his stomach was filled with dread.

  He was going back to Filmore. He didn’t know what was going to happen. He had no idea what sorts of things he would find there this time. The possibilities for disaster were endless. No matter what the outcome, one thing was for sure. For Carolyn, the day would end with a blistered backside, and if that was the worst thing that happened, they should all consider themselves lucky.

  Chapter 14

  Carolyn’s breathing grew shallow and ragged as the dreary outskirts of her hometown came into view. What had she been thinking? That she was strong enough to come back here at all, much less when there was a good chance she would run into the prophet? Even the cab driver had looked at her strangely when she named her destination. But she had flashed Luke’s credit card at him and promised a generous tip so he hadn’t said another word about it.

  As promised, he stopped right outside the gate—outsiders weren’t welcomed in Filmore—and that was just fine with most of them. She was lucky she had even convinced him to go that far.

  Her breath caught in her throat. Everything in her screamed for her to hightail it back to Green Valley before anyone even realized she was gone… but she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. This was something she had to do for Maddie, but also for herself.

  With shaking hands, she ran the credit card, including the promised tip. With a nod of thanks to the kind driver, she clutched her purse to her chest and exited the safe confines of the cab, slowly shutting the door behind her.

  At first, she stayed frozen in place, watching as the car drove down the highway until it was no longer visible from where she stood. Then with every ounce of resolve she could muster, she pulled her skirt down, tugging it so that it covered her knees, and buttoned the top buttons of her blouse, leaving no part of her chest exposed, straightened her back, and marched inside.

  Filmore hadn’t really changed. Unfinished houses still graced both sides of dusty dirt roads. Yards cluttered with kids, weeds, and now forbidden bicycles were a gloomy sight. The kids killed her. Girls dressed in long itchy dresses made of thick fabric in dark colors had braids running down their back to the prophet’s specifications. She met each of their eyes as she walked past, knowing full well what they must think of her with her short blonde locks and colorful skirt. She had been one of them once upon a time. She wanted to save them, to gather up each one and tell them to run and never come back. She could feel their eyes on her as she made her way down the dusty main road towards the church.

  Being in Filmore was excruciating on its own, but she wasn’t prepared for her body’s reaction when she turned the corner that brought the church into view. The “church” was a large old warehouse building that had been rebuilt. For something that was supposed to be a cornerstone of their community, and the reason behind everything they did, the prophet had never treated the old building like it was as important as he claimed it was. While the church in Green Valley was immaculate with its fresh white paint every year, well maintained yard and stained glass windows, this church had seen better days. The outside was corrugated metal, in a bright Forest green of all colors, and the roof was flat. Truthfully it looked like a glorified shipping container, except that it was massive. And it had to be with so many wives and children, the congregation equaled well over five thousand and grew daily. The whole thing was coated in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs and was desperately in need of a power washing. That had always been her father’s job, and she wondered idly if nobody had done it in his absence. It certainly appeared that way. The churchyard, which had once been kept up by the prophet’s many wives, was now overgrown with weeds and ivy. The picnic tables that once sat under a large oak tree in the front appeared to have been flipped in a storm, never to be righted.

  Carolyn took in each dreary detail, focusing on facts rather than the feelings that being back were evoking as she marched through the overgrown grass and up the cement steps, praying her family was inside.

  The heavy old door creaked and groaned as she pulled it open, marching through the dusty foyer and into the oversized sanctuary. Thankfully, they were there. She blinked in shock as she stared at them, feeling immediately like she had walked through a portal and back in time. Gone were her mothers’ bright dresses and colorful aprons. Already they had been replaced by long, high necked dresses in a dreary shade of dark gray. Her father’s usual attire of a tailored business suit had been replaced by what were considered work clothes in Filmore; Wrangler jeans and a denim shirt, along with Romeos and a cowboy hat to protect him from the sun.

  However dismaying it all was, it was Maddie who broke her heart. In Green Valley, Maddie had been free to live as any other teenager in America, to an extent. Her long blonde hair had hung down her back in curls, and her clothing of choice had been modest but fun. She had taken the standard and made it her own with hairstyles and accessories, all things which were forbidden here in Filmore. Maddie looked miserable. Already her hair had been fashioned to hang neatly down her neck in the required braid, taking away any semblance of individuality from the girl. Because things like free thinking and self-expression were gifts of temptation from the devil himself. Her dress was a dark brown, a color that had been used to deem girls unworthy, to show that they were in need of or under punishment from the prophet.

  Carolyn had worn brown a lot.

  She had managed to contain her raging emotions until her eyes cast upon the hideous brown fabric and her stomach lurched at the memory. Rage overcame her and she was no longer in control of her actions as she raced down the church aisle towards her sister.

  “No!” she screamed, tearing madly at the fabric when she reached her, not bothering to announce herself or her arrival to her family. “No!” she screamed again, catching the fabric at the top of the puffed sleeve, and pulling it away from her sister’s body. She was completely on autopilot, not even fully aware of her actions until she was holding the ripped sleeve in her hands and staring at her sister’s bare arm in confusion. The first detail that came into focus was her sister’s eyes meeting hers.

  Maddie’s eyes were heavy, laden with sadness and understanding. She knew exactly what had happened to cause such a reaction.

  What she didn’t know was why Carolyn was here. The exchange that passed between them was an unspoken one, as sisters were known to have. But that short silent exchange was all the confirmation Carolyn needed that coming had been the right thing to do. She would not leave without her sister. This was no place for a young woman, especially one like Maddie, who had spent her adolescence in a world much different than this one. The promise that passed between them was also silent, but that didn’t make it any less real.

  “Caro? What are you doing here?” Heddy’s voice shook Carolyn into the present, and she turned towards her parents, who were standing in a semicircle around her and Maddie, looking at her as if she had turned into a little green Martian before their very eyes.

  “I…I…” she stammered, her mouth suddenly dry as she searched the recesses of her brain for a suitable explanation, and came up short. “I don’t know. I barely remember getting here, to be honest. I saw the news, and I just came.” All of it was true, but she didn’t mention the fact that she planned on absconding with her little sister, because it just wasn’t the time for that quite yet.

  “The news?” All four of them stared at her blank
ly, and she belatedly recalled that television was forbidden in Filmore. Radio was also frowned upon, because, of course, it was. It made it that much easier for the prophet to sneak back into town and nobody was the wiser.

  Which meant that bearing the bad news was all on her. She opened her mouth, but the words stuck in her parched throat. Her eyes swelled with tears, and tried to force the truth to past her lips, but saying it would make it real. Her heart raced as the truth finally hit her. She was back in Filmore, and the prophet would be here soon, if he wasn’t already.

  “Carolyn?” Heddy and Myra swarmed her, taking her cold hands in their warm ones, and frowning with concern as they questioned her.

  “Caro, baby, are you okay?”

  “What’s wrong? Is it Lucas? What is it, baby? What did you see on the news?”

  “That would be me, I presume.” The familiar voice chilled her to the core, making her blood run cold. She saw the shock register on her parents’ faces as they too recognized the voice from their past.

  Raymond Ellis.

  The prophet.

  In the flesh.

  Even in his shock, her father sprang into action, turning around to face him while simultaneously pulling Carolyn behind him so that she was hidden from sight. Whether it was for her sake or his, she didn’t know, but she appreciated the gesture. Her mothers quickly flanked him, one on each side, shoving Maddie behind them as well. Carolyn didn’t realize she was shaking until Maddie reached out and took her hand, holding it tightly. Carolyn took a deep breath and held it as the reality of the situation she was in hit her. There were only a few yards of space separating her from the prophet, but this time, she was surrounded by her family’s love and protection. She soaked it in, letting it strengthen her, even as she stayed hidden behind her father. Feeling strong was one thing. Inviting trouble was another.

  “Franklin Atwood.” The prophet’s voice echoed in the empty church. “We meet again.”

  “Raymond Ellis,” her father countered. “It’s a surprise to see you here.”

  “It shouldn’t be. It was in the prophecy that I would come back to rule my kingdom one day. Man’s laws are no match for the ways of the Lord. Oh, and that’s Prophet to you.”

  Carolyn had to bite her tongue to keep from scoffing aloud at the depth of this man’s lunacy and delusion. Although it was correct that Prophet was what they knew him by. Most days, she would have been hard pressed to tell you his given name, she heard it so rarely, and calling him by it was considered an unforgivable sin. By himself, of course.

  She silently cheered when her father refused to be intimidated by the monster who had ruled them all for so long. “Actually, Ray,” he said, letting the sarcasm flow into every nuance of his tone, “that’s prophet to you.”

  “So I hear. But really, Franklin, who do you think you’re fooling? You and I both know you couldn’t lead your way out of a paper bag. And even if you could, it doesn’t matter. These are my people, and this is my church.”

  “Were your people. Was your church. Their eyes have been opened now, Raymond. They can clearly see now that the road you led them down was one of corruption and self-service. They don’t want you, and even if they did, it’s only a matter of time before the FBI gets here and swarms the place. You’re a dead man, Ellis.”

  “Corruption? Self-service? That’s rich, Franklin, coming from you. You were only too happy to look the other way if it would advance you in the kingdom, weren’t you?” There was a pause and Carolyn could see the prophet’s famous sickly sweet smile in her mind. Her stomach clenched with anger. “Hello, Heddy, Myra. So good to see you again. Is that Maddie behind you? She’s grown up lovely I see. I’ll make a special place for her in my kingdom.”

  “Like hell you will!” Her father’s voice was cold. “You’re going back to prison, Ellis. They’ll keep you company while the devil is busy preparing a special place in his kingdom just for you.”

  “I’m not going back. This world has no hold on me. Their weapons have no effect on me, and their walls won’t contain me. All my time there has done is build me up and prepared me to reign supreme. No man can touch me now. I am the almighty and powerful prophet. The Lord is for me, who can be against me? He shall turn my enemies to dust beneath my feet.”

  Her father let out a low whistle. “They got you on some good drugs in there, or what? You’re going down, Ellis. There’s a new prophet in town. Your people see you clearly now, for the weak, insecure, manipulative worm that you are.” Her father spoke slowly, and she felt the circle around her shift as he dug in his pocket for his phone. “They haven’t found you yet, Ellis. I’ll just have to give them a little help.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Oh, but I would. You see, my time away changed me, Raymond. You no longer have a hold on me.”

  “That won’t matter if you’re dead.” The voice that came out of Ellis was cold and distant- the words causing her heart to stop beating. Her mothers yelled, throwing themselves backwards across her and Maddie, and for the first time, she got a clear view of the man she knew as the prophet.

  There was a gun in his hand, but that wasn’t what she focused on. He had changed in prison. His skin, always pale had taken on a sickly gray pallor, and his eyes looked empty, as if the person hiding behind them was devoid of a soul. His face was sunken and his teeth yellow—gone was the full of personality man who had kept them all under his spell. In his place was a ghost, a mere shell of a man. His suit that he must have exchanged out his prison jumpsuit for before heading to the church, hung on him. Carolyn stifled a laugh as she realized that if he removed his belt now, his pants would fall off. But her laugh only lasted a second, it died on her lips when his beady gaze came to rest on her. His tongue flicked over his lower lip, wetting it, as he looked at her.

  “Carolyn Atwood. We meet again.”

  Her knees were shaking, as she stood behind Heddy who was now on the ground checking on her father who had been clocked in the head with the butt end of the gun. She wondered idly if it was just for show, and didn’t have any bullets in it. Guns were not forbidden in Filmore, all the leaders and enforcers carried them, but they were never to be used beyond protection. She had never seen the prophet with one, and she doubted he knew how to use it. She checked her fear, and smiled with surprise when she realized that he was right there in front of her, holding a gun, and she was not afraid. She was on the right side of the law, and she would win again, just like she had before. She was much stronger now.

  She was strong enough to ignore him. She didn’t need to engage him, and risk falling prey to his mind games and manipulation. Never taking her eyes off him, she stooped to her knees, pulling Maddie down with her as she checked on her father.

  “I’m fine,” he whispered, even as he winced. “Just call the police.”

  Nodding, she pulled her phone out from her purse, and swiped the screen to unlock it. Nothing happened. It was completely dead. “Give me your phone,” she whispered urgently to Maddie.

  Her sister shook her head. “All of our phones are back at the house. Father wanted us to practice relying less on electronics as a good example to the community.”

  “Oh yeah?” Carolyn bit back, scowling at her father. “How did that work out for you?” And if you don’t have your phone, what were you grabbing for when he hit you?”

  “My phone.” Her father winced as he answered. “I forgot.”

  Heaving a sigh, she bit her tongue. This wasn’t the time to lecture her father about the fact that limiting electronics and media had never been about being closer to God without distractions as he had claimed. It had been about control. Everything had been.

  What do I do now? She whispered to herself. Her father was bleeding, her mothers and sister were crying, and she was face to face with the man who had made her life a living hell for years. He was walking towards her, and he had a gun.

  “A lot of outsiders heading into Filmore today,” the cabbie muttered when Luke s
tated his destination.

  “Blonde woman? Short hair, red lips, big floral skirt?” He didn’t know for sure that that is what Caro had been wearing, but it was always a safe bet.

  “White as a sheet, but determined. I tried to discourage her from going into a place like that all alone, but she promised me a big tip to shut my mouth, so that’s what I did.” The cabbie nodded, glancing back at him in the rearview mirror. “You know her?”

  “My wife,” Luke said, by way of explanation. It was all he had right now. Luckily, the man accepted it with a nod.

  “Any other fares into Filmore today that seemed unusual?” Luke asked biding his time. It was of course a long shot, but it never hurt to ask.

  “You asking about that escaped convict?” All-knowing eyes met his in the mirror, and he nodded his assent. “No, Sir.” The cabbie shook his head slowly. “That APB went out and I memorized that face, so I wouldn’t forget it. Ain’t no pedophile getting in my cab. No, Sir. Besides that, he was smart enough to break out of maximum security prison. He’s not dumb enough to risk getting caught before he does whatever it is he wants to do. But I do think that he will head here. You’re right about that.”

  The cab rolled to a stop and Lucas looked up in surprise. They were outside the main gate into Filmore. He slipped the cabbie a bill, including a second generous tip, and got out, stretching his legs as he prepared for the battle that he knew would await him inside.

  “Be careful,” the cabbie whispered as he closed the door. “And Godspeed.”

  It was lucky that Lucas had spent time in Filmore. He knew exactly where he was going as he walked down the dusty streets towards the church that no outsider would have ever known was a church. It was a straight stretch through the middle of town to the church, and a short walk… if Luke hadn’t decided to take a detour.