by S. M. Shade
A blond head peeks in my door. “Abraham, is this a bad time?” Eric asks.
“It’s a fine time, Brother Eric. Please have a seat.”
“Thank you. I just need a minute. It’s about Troy.” Hmm, he appears nervous and jumpy. It’s obvious that he fears me, but I don’t believe he reveres me as the others do.
“Are you questioning my decision to punish the sodomite?” I inquire, impassively.
“No! Of course not!” Paling, he fidgets with his collar. “I only wondered if you intend for him to die of his wounds.” He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, swallowing audibly.
“No, Eric, I don’t. My intention is to save him and show him the error of his ways before it’s too late.”
His face relaxes in relief, and he absently swipes the hair out of his eyes. His voice is scarcely above a whisper. “May I suggest having the doc take a look at him? If the wounds become infected, he may not survive long enough for you to get through to him.” He glances at me apprehensively, awaiting my reaction.
“Well, we can’t have that. Ask Dr. Mike to examine him, but he’s not to be given any form of pain reliever. He’s meant to suffer for his disgusting sins.”
“Of course.” Eric rises quickly. “Thank you.”
“Brother Eric?” He turns and tries to hide his dismayed expression. He can’t get away from me fast enough. “The Lord’s work is not always pleasant, but we must persevere. Do not waste your pity and compassion on this abomination. Do not let him bring you down with him,” I warn.
“A-Abraham,” he stammers. “I-I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“And you haven’t. Still, I need to be confident that you’re loyal, both to God and to me.”
“I am! I swear my loyalty to both.”
“Then all is well. Are you aware of what the bible says about homosexuality, Eric?”
“It’s a sin.”
“Leviticus 20:13, ‘If a man also lie with mankind, as he lieth with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; they shall surely be put to death; their blood shall be upon them.’ While I am optimistic that God brought Troy to us to be saved, we will deliver the Lord’s justice if we find he’s beyond our help. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Abraham.”
“Since you’re so concerned with his welfare, the final act shall fall to you, should he prove to be beyond redemption. I think stoning him would be a fitting way to accomplish the deed. Don’t you agree?”
“Whatever you think is best,” he whispers, horrified.
“God will let me know when the time comes. You may go now.”
“Have a good day, Abraham.”
“And you. Oh, Eric?” He turns back, warily. “You should spend more time in bible study.”
“Yes, I will,” he promises and practically runs from the room.
Perhaps I accepted Eric too quickly when we met. It seems he may require some time to reflect and study—in the stable.
Troy
My back has healed, though it was more than a week before I could wear a shirt or pants again. They left us well enough alone and allowed Micah to treat my wounds and take care of me. Though he still refuses to kneel, he’s stopped cursing them now that we’ve seen what they’re capable of doing to us.
Jennifer is now Sister Jennifer, and lives in the house with them. I don’t fault her for it. She’s just a different type of prisoner. Our days are humdrum and routine. Get up, eat, wash, read. They have started allowing us to walk around the property, escorted by Cole and Steve.
Of course, we spend a lot of time just talking. The time is endless, and Micah and I know one another’s lives inside and out.
“You’re different,” Micah mutters, as we lounge on the bean bag chairs.
“So are you. You don’t fight them anymore.”
“It was stupid.”
“Mmm,” I hum noncommittally.
“But you never joke anymore, never try to give me any shit.”
“You worried that they broke me?”
He shrugs. “I hope that’s not the case.”
“Aw, I didn’t know you cared,” I reply, trying to sound lighthearted.
“Shut up.” He glances at me, and it’s apparent something is on his mind. “What they did to you…I should have stopped them. I could hear you screaming.” His voice cracks.
“Stop. You’d have been tied up alongside me. It’s not your fault. That was the only smart thing you’ve done this year. They would’ve killed you.”
He shakes his head. He’s really upset. I realize he isn’t exactly the hugging type, but I give him a quick squeeze anyway. “Let it go,” I advise. “I’m fine.”
Before he can answer, the doors open and Abraham strolls in. “Still showing homosexual tendencies, I see.” He’s followed by Steve, and they’re both armed. “I suppose you require a little wooden reminder.”
My entire body trembles as he grasps my arm. I can’t take that again. “No, please. It was just a hug. I didn’t do anything!”
Steve blocks Micah from intervening, and he looks as devastated as I feel. “Leave him alone! I hugged him! It should be me!” he yells. Abraham ignores him as he escorts me outside. My insides have turned to water, and my leaden legs will barely support my weight.
Suddenly, I hear shouting followed by a gunshot. Oh fuck. Micah! Abraham raises his gun and calls out to Steve, but it’s Micah who rounds the corner with the rifle. Before he can fire, he’s tackled by Cole. Where the fuck did he come from? After slamming Micah’s head into the ground repeatedly, Cole wrenches the gun from him and pulls him to his knees. Abraham looks inside the stable.
“He killed Steve,” he announces. He circles Micah while he kneels in the gravel, blood pouring from his head and nose. “Well, you’re kneeling now, aren’t you, murderer?”
“You’re next,” Micah pants.
“Mic,” I plead.
“We were never going to survive these fucked-up lunatics, Troy,” he says with regret.
He’s right. Sooner or later, they’re going to kill us.
“Enough!” Abraham shouts, raising his gun. It happens so fast. Abraham fires the gun into the back of Micah’s head, and he falls to the ground.
“No!” I scream. The world wavers in and out of existence, and the ground rushes to meet me as my knees give way.
“Throw the body in the woods and take Troy back to the stable. There will be no more deviant behavior from him,” Abraham’s voice booms.
“No! Kill me! Please, Abraham! Kill me and be done with it!” I beg.
“Don’t be silly, God hasn’t finished with you yet.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
It’s nearly lunch time when Airen asks me to take a ride with him. “Where are we going?”
“I want to show you something.” His eyes are twinkling with mischief. What is he up to now?
“Okay.” We drive for about ten minutes before he turns onto a small gravel road, overgrown with weeds.
“Look to the right when we come over the hill.” He’s fidgeting with excitement like a little boy. It’s too cute for words. We make a slight turn and my breath catches. Sunflowers. They’re my absolute favorite flowers, and he’s brought me to a field overflowing with them.
“Airen, it’s beautiful,” I whisper, admiring the shifting canvas of yellows, browns, and greens.
“I thought you might like it.” I detect an undercurrent of nerves in his sweet smile. “Come with me, sweetheart.” Hand in hand we walk into the sea of sunflowers, stopping in a small clearing where a blanket and a bottle of wine await us.
“What is all this?” I exclaim in surprise. When I turn to face him, he’s on his knee, his ebony eyes fixed intently on mine. My heart drops into my feet, pinning me in place, as his name leaves my lips on a stunned gasp.
“Abigail, I love you with every inch of my heart. I want us to spend the rest of our lives together.” He produces a silver ring, and my tears overflow as I recognize it. I had commented on a se
t of rings once that when worn together create a figure eight, the sign of infinity. He remembered. “Will you wear this ring? Will you be my wife?”
His eyes never leave mine. My God, look at him! He’s breathtaking, kneeling among the sunflowers. Sunlight falls on his face, illuminating his beauty. He’s a god, a fantasy realized, he’s absolutely perfect, and he wants me.
“Yes,” I sob.
He slips the ring onto my finger. “Forever,” he whispers.
I drop to my knees and grasp his hair as I pull his lips to mine. He moans and crushes me against his chest while I try to pour all of the love and desire I feel for this man into a long, scorching kiss. He’s my whole world. My happily ever after I thought was unattainable. I’m deliriously happy and absolutely terrified. This beautiful man has possessed me in a way I never thought possible. My heart is his to cherish or destroy.
“I love you so much, Airen. It’s almost more than I can bear, but I can’t help it.”
“I don’t want you to help it. I know you’re scared, darlin’. You aren’t the only one. I’ve never felt this way about anyone.” His palms cup my face, his eyes bottomless pools of anguish as they stare into mine. “You could shatter me, Abby.”
God, I’m drowning in a turbulent sea of emotion. He loves me. He’s afraid of losing me. Silently, I pull his shirt over his head and unbutton his jeans. “Here?” he asks.
“Yes, I need you.”
Before I can breathe, I’m swept into his arms and lowered to the blanket. “I’m here, sweetheart.”
We make love in an endless field of sunflowers, permeated in their fragrance and serenaded by the melody of songbirds. Sunshine warms our bare bodies as a light breeze cools and caresses. It’s the sweetest experience I have ever known.
As we lie together in the afterglow, he places his hand beside mine to show he’s wearing an identical ring. Both are shaped like the letter S. “I have the mates to them. When we have our wedding ceremony and I place the second ring on your finger, the symbol will be complete, and you’ll be mine for infinity.”
“I’m already yours. I’ve been yours since your eyes met mine in that dark department store. He smiles when I bring his hand to my mouth and kiss his ring. “Forever,” I promise.
* * * *
Everyone seems to be happy about our engagement, though not particularly surprised. I must have been the only one who didn’t see it coming. Jayla is especially ecstatic.
“We have to find you a dress! Oh, what color will you wear?” she gushes, and I laugh at her exuberance.
“We don’t even know when we’ll have the ceremony yet, honey. I promise you can help me with it.”
“How are you going to get married without a minister?” Carson asks. “How could it be legal?”
“I was legally ordained,” Joseph volunteers.
“Really?” Jayla asks.
“Well, over the internet.” He shrugs and grins at me.
“I’d love for you to preside over the ceremony, Joseph. There isn’t a legal or illegal marriage anymore anyway. Since we aren’t religious, we can just swear our love to one another,” I suggest, glancing to see what Airen thinks of the idea.
“That’s perfect.” He kisses my cheek.
“You can write your own vows!” Jayla exclaims.
The fearful look on Airen’s face makes me chuckle softly. “We’ll see,” I reply.
We have harvested and preserved all of our fruits and vegetables. The freezer is packed with meat, and I feel pretty optimistic about the upcoming winter. The solar power has been a godsend. We can run the furnace so there is no longer a need for generators or electric heaters. Our small herd of goats furnish us with milk. Condensed and powdered milk just isn’t the same. We keep chickens to supply eggs and the occasional fried chicken dinner, and Airen’s fishing obsession means we’re never without a refrigerator full of fresh fish. We’re so much better off than last year.
Though we’re busy, Airen and I manage to sneak away to our summer home occasionally. “Mmm,” I hum, as I roll over and pull the sheet up to my chin. Airen flashes me a little half grin, and I watch his boxer briefs slide over those tan, muscular thighs as he dresses. I know I’m blatantly ogling him, but I can’t help myself. He’s spectacular.
“What?” He smirks, as if he’s never met a mirror.
“You’re gorgeous.”
“There’s no need for flattery, darlin’. If you want more, all you have to do is ask.”
God, he’s arrogant. “Like I’d have to ask.” I can feel his eyes on me when I rise and stroll to the bathroom, naked.
“You have such a great ass,” he says in a husky voice, grabbing me and pressing me against his body. His hands travel up and down my hips. The corners of his mouth turn down, and his eyes flit up to meet mine. “You’ve lost weight.”
I grin, taking it as a compliment. “Thank You.”
“Are you trying to get thinner? You really don’t need to, sweetheart. I love your body. Every inch of it,” he growls, his eyes sweeping over me from head to toe.
“I’ve just been busy, I suppose. Picking, canning—you know.”
“You need to take care of yourself too,” he lectures.
I agree, and he drops the subject. A sudden crack of thunder urges us to get moving, and we dress quickly, making it home just as the clouds burst.
The truth is I just haven’t been able to eat much the past few weeks. I don’t really know what’s wrong, but since I don’t feel sick, I’m not going to make an issue out of it. I’m happy to lose a few pounds. Unfortunately, Airen hasn’t forgotten. He’s paying too much attention to me at meal times, and I can see his disapproval when I stop eating after half a dozen bites. He walks into the bathroom and frowns at me when I step out of the shower.
“Abby!” he exclaims, his lips pressed together and his brow furrowed.
“What?”
“You have to start eating! I’ll bet you’ve lost ten pounds.”
A smile stretches across my face when I study my reflection in the mirror. “You don’t like it?” I ask, smoothing my hands over my flat belly.
He sighs. “I love you no matter how you look, sweetheart, but I don’t want you to starve yourself.”
“I’m not. I just haven’t had an appetite.”
Instantly troubled by my response, he goes into hovering grandmother mode, pressing the back of his hand against my forehead and asking, “Are you sick? Is your stomach bothering you?”
“No.”
“I want you to talk to Julie,” he insists.
“Air, I said I’m fine.”
“So, if I go make you a snack, you’ll eat it?” he presses stubbornly.
I hesitate, knowing I can’t right now. “I’m not hungry.”
He shakes his head, his dark eyes flashing in anger as he stalks from the room. Damn, what’s up his ass? Most men like their women thin. Besides, I’ve only dropped from a size ten jeans to a size eight, so I’m not exactly skinny. When he returns a few minutes later with Julie in tow, I sigh, exasperated with his overprotective tendencies. “Seriously, Airen?”
“Let us talk privately,” Julie insists. He doesn’t like it, but he acquiesces, shutting the door behind him.
“I’m sorry he bothered you, Julie. I’m fine.”
She smiles and nods. “Well, humor me then. It’s been a long time since I had a patient. How much weight have you lost?”
“About ten pounds,” I reluctantly admit.
“Are you trying to lose weight? Dieting? Getting more exercise?”
I shake my head. “I just can’t eat.”
“Does food make you nauseous?”
“No, I just feel full, like I’ll gag if I take another bite.”
“Has anything else changed? Bowel habits? Insomnia? Excessive sweating?”
I shake my head again.
“Are your period’s regular?”
“I only have a few per year because of my birth control pills, and I’m not
due to start until next month.”
“Let’s do a pregnancy test.”
“I’m on the pill,” I repeat, frowning.
“They could be expired, or perhaps you missed one. Have you taken any other medications lately?”
“Just ten days of Penicillin.” Her sharp glance sends a ball of ice rolling down my spine. “What? I had an ingrown hair that became infected, and the penicillin knocked it right out.”
“Antibiotics can interfere with birth control, Abby, and make it less effective.”
I shake my head stubbornly. “I’m not pregnant.”
“Well, I’m sure you can spare a little urine to set my mind at ease,” she replies.
“Fine,” I relent. I grasp her hand as she heads toward the supply closet. “Don’t let Airen see.” There’s no reason to scare the shit out of him for nothing.
“Doctor patient confidentiality,” she assures me. She returns with an EPT test, and I reluctantly take it to the bathroom. We have to wait a few minutes for the results.
“When this is negative, what then?” I ask.
“We’ll keep track of your weight and see if you keep losing. It could be hyperthyroidism or just a stubborn stomach virus. There’s no need to worry right now.”
“Tell that to Mr. Overprotective out there,” I mumble. The timer beeps, and Julie collects the EPT stick.
“Abby,” she whispers, taking a seat next to me. She holds the stick where I can see the tiny blue plus sign that seals my fate. “You’re pregnant, dear.”
No. Oh, fuck no. This can’t be happening. “It’s a false positive. Let’s take another one.”
After repeating the process, Julie places her hand on my arm. “Abby,” she says softly. I shake my head. “You are pregnant.”
“Don’t tell Airen,” I plead.
“I’m not going to tell anyone anything. You still have choices, dear. I can give you a pill to end the pregnancy if that’s what you want, but there can be complications. If that’s your decision, then it needs to be made sooner rather than later. If you decide to bring the baby to term, I’m confident I can deliver the child. It won’t be my first,” she says with a reassuring smile.
