by Vivian Lux
I hoped he knew I missed him more than I ever thought possible.
As the congregation sang, I raised my own voice. Closing my eyes, I let the melody lift me up, certain that this was the sign I had prayed for. My voice rose as I tried to drown out the sadness, and soon I was belting out the sweet words just like Claire had taught me. Just like I hadn't been able to that night at the Crown. I sang with all the hope I'd had and the grief I'd felt. I sang my love, lifting it up and then letting it go. The melody wrapped me up in its embrace and I sang as loud as I could.
And then stopped. Because the music had stopped.
And everyone was staring.
"Sister Walker." The Elder's nose was wrinkled like I had done something disgusting. "Vanity is a deadly sin."
My mouth fell open. "I wasn't... I'm not being vain, I just really like the song—"
"You put yourself above others, calling attention to yourself. Come forward."
I stuttered and looked around in horror. "To be Shamed? You can't be serious." Shocked gasps echoed off the metal walls and now I knew I would be Shamed for subordination as well as vanity, but I didn't care. This was insanity. I was only singing.
I looked to Levi in desperation. "Tell them! I was just singing the hymn! You're supposed to be my future husband, tell them this is crazy!"
"Vanity is a sin," he echoed in that same toneless voice he'd spoke in the night we met. I narrowed my eyes at him and then looked over to my own family. Rebecca and Joel were both looking down, not willing to meet my eyes. Miriam and Lydia were both staring at me with terror on their little faces. But my mother.
My mother was looking at me with such anger that it made me step back as if she'd reached out and struck me.
"Come forward," the Elder intoned again.
I tore my hopeful gaze away from my mother. She wouldn't help me. No one would. This was normal to them. Vanity was a sin, and those who sinned were punished in front of everyone to keep the rest of the congregation in line. Sinners had to submit and receive their punishment before they would be accepted back into the community.
But I would not submit.
"This is crazy." I held my head high as I shoved past Levi and his family. "All of this, it's nuts." I broke free of the crush and sprinted for the back entrance. My skirts tangled in my legs, slowing me down, making it easy for the Elders in the back to grab me. "What is wrong with you?" I shouted to my mother as they dragged me back up to the front, to the Elder waiting with the stick in hand. "Do something!" I begged as they lifted my skirts and bared my thighs.
My family, my future husband, my whole community, they all just sat there and watched as the Elder brought the slender reed down on my naked skin. I flinched and gritted my teeth to keep from crying out, then gave in and screamed.
I screamed after each one of the seven lashes. I let them hear my pain. I hoped like hell they felt it too.
But I did not let them see me cry.
Chapter Forty-Four
Rachel
I slumped woozily when they stood me back up again. Everything was hazy through the cloud of pain. It took a small shove from the Elder on my left to get me moving.
I shuffled automatically down the aisle and then stopped short.
On one side sat my family. On the other side sat the man I was supposed to marry.
I stood there wavering in place. I did not belong with either of them.
"Sit down," my father ordered.
Humiliated, I shoved my way back to my seat, deliberately knocking into Levi with my elbow. Then I turned and lifted my chin as high as I could before sinking down slowly, hissing through my teeth. The raw, red lash marks that striped my thighs made sitting unbearable. I scooted down until I was at the very edge of my chair and kept my eyes shut through the rest of the meeting. When it was over and everyone rose, I stayed seated, refusing to move.
"Rachel."
I heard my father say my name, but I kept my eyes shut, hoping he would believe I was deep in prayer.
"Rachel!" my mother snapped.
I let my eyes flutter open but didn't turn to look at her. The meeting house had cleared out. Only my parents and Levi's parents remained, and all four of them were watching me as if they were considering an exorcism.
"We were under the impression," my father began. "That your time in the secular world was spent spreading God's word."
"Why would you think that? You never once told me that's what you wanted. You never even checked in to see if I was doing okay..." I started to say.
But my father spoke right over me like I hadn't even said a word. "We did not want to believe that you had fallen into secular ways. But your vanity and the stubborn pride you exhibited today show that you have."
"Seriously?
He ignored that too. I may as well have not even been in the room, because he turned to Levi's father with an obsequious smile that made my blood run cold. "We are grateful that, in spite of this, you are still willing to go through with this. We believe that it's probably best for Rachel's eternal soul if we hold this wedding soon."
"We agree," Levi's father said, glaring at Levi for some reason. "How about tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow?" I echoed. The word clunked in my head like a prison door sliding into place. "You want me to marry Levi... tomorrow?" I stared at the man in question, who looked just as blindsided as I was. Desperately, I appealed to my father with my eyes. I had returned to make their lives better, but now? Now they seemed intent on ruining mine completely. But he wasn't even looking at me. His gaze was fixed at some place in the distance, as if he was peering off into a future that only he could see. I wracked my brain for something, anything that would stall this. "Can I take a moment? To uh... pray on it?"
Levi seemed to seize on this idea. "My wife is right," he said with the most fervor I'd ever heard him be able to muster up. "I'd like to take a walk and pray on this." He glanced at me and seemed to understand my unsaid entreaty. "In solitude of course. To better hear God's plan revealed to me."
I nodded fiercely, then winced as the motion made my injured thighs brush against my seat. A burst of white-hot hate propelled me to my feet. I had to buy myself time. For what, I didn't know yet but I knew I just... needed... time. "You understand, of course," I said, all sweetness and smiles.
My mother inhaled sharply and then looked at my glowering father. "Come now. Don't you remember how nervous I was the day before our wedding? I think solitary prayer would be a wise action."
I breathed a silent thank you for her sudden compassion. "Thank you," I said quickly before my father could change his mind, and fled from the meeting house.
Outside in the heavy, soupy air, I gulped in a breath, but it didn't clear my head. My heavy braid seemed to be tugging insistently on my head, weighing me down. Stumbling on my injured legs, my only thought was to get as far away from the meeting house as I could. I winced in pain as I hurried away, my tears blinding me, so I had no idea where I was headed. I just knew I need to run, and so that's what I did, looping around down to the creek. Once under the trees and away from the prying eyes of the rest of the community, I slowed with my heart hammering in my ears.
The trickle of the creek reminded me so sharply of my little house with Everly that I started crying harder. Sobbing blindly, I rushed away from the memory of what I'd had and thrown away and ran full tilt toward the pastures and into the shadow of the big gray barn. Gasping, I sagged against the cool walls and dug my fists into my eyes, angrily wiping away the tears. "Goddammit," I raged. "Fuck! Fucking shit!" I cursed as loud as I dared. But it came out in only a whisper because I knew someone had to be watching. Listening.
In the next breath, my fears were confirmed. I heard the mutter of voices and then a thud as if something had hit the wall.
Then the unmistakable noise of a passionate gasp.
Slowly I rose up onto my tiptoes and peered into the gloom of the barn.
Two men were inside wrestling.
No. No
t wrestling.
Kissing.
I held my breath, hardly daring to move a muscle as I watched the two men clutch and strain, grasping and tearing at each other’s clothes in a rough embrace. Snatches of words, of desperate promises, floated out through the cracks in the barn walls. I heard "...tomorrow." I heard. "...doesn't change anything." I knelt down - slowly - to listen at the crack because there was something about that voice that sounded familiar.
Then the other voice, a different voice spoke so clearly it may have well have been right in my ear. "No, Levi. It's too dangerous."
I clapped my hand over my mouth to stifle my shocked gasp. Then I heard my future husband's wretched, pleading, "No!"
"This has to be the last time," the other voice intoned, and then his words were swallowed by the sound of another desperate, ragged kiss.
All the strength left my body and I slumped heavily against the side of the barn as it suddenly became crystal clear to me why Levi had wanted to marry me. I would be a human shield for his love, which was expressly forbidden by the Chosen. Levi was gay, and I was the perfect cover. Years could go by and no one would question what happened in our bedroom. No one would whisper and wonder if we had consummated the marriage.
After all, no one would ever expect a broken woman like me to get pregnant.
Horror punched me in the gut. Not because Levi was gay. But because I was facing down a life of never being touched. Never being loved.
Never being allowed to sing more loudly than a whisper.
I'd resigned myself to coming back to the Chosen. But I couldn't face a life without any chance of love.
I stood up. I wasn't going to do it.
I was going to find Beau. And then I was going to get down on my knees and beg for his forgiveness. If I had to go all the way to New York City, so be it.
I finally knew where I belonged.
Chapter Forty-Five
Beau
The bright lights of the TV studio were like the blazing sun overhead.
It was the fifth day of our whirlwind New York City tour. After four productive days in the studio, the label's publicity machine had kicked in and we found ourselves getting primped and powdered for interviews.
Just like the old days.
Except this time, we had an overexcited Claire in tow. My sister, drunk on the limelight she was so jealous not to share with us all those years ago, was tripping all over herself trying to get a word in edgewise during the morning talk show appearance.
Unfortunately for her, Jonah-the-overachiever was in full-schmooze-mode. He could charm talk show hosts with one hand tied behind his back, and these two were no different from the rest of them.
Poor Claire. You could almost see the frustrated steam rising off her head. I almost burst out laughing.
And then they started asking about our love lives.
"Tell us about what's changed most for everyone during the hiatus. Jonah, I hear you're engaged?"
My older brother's fake smile faded and a real one took its place. "That's right. Ruby wants a fall wedding, so we're looking at next September. Before the school year starts though."
"Oh!" This seemed to surprise the female host. "Is she a student?"
"A teacher." Jonah beamed with pride. "Kindergarten, actually. Which is good, because she's teaching me some tricks on dealing with this lot." He glared at us and gave an exaggerated eyeroll.
So many things had changed. But Jonah's exasperated schtick during interviews never did.
"And my girl is a nurse," Gabe interjected. "So when I inevitably beat up Jonah for saying things like that." He glared back pointedly. "She can stitch him back up, good as new."
"That's right." The male host turned to Gabe. "You're dating the woman who served as your nurse during your recovery, correct?"
"Everly." Gabe nodded, suddenly all serious. "She's the best thing that ever happened to me." He looked far away for a second, and then remembered himself and where he was. "This band being a distant second."
Both hosts chuckled. I chuckled right along with them, the years of practice kicking in to keep my face neutral, even as inside I wanted to run screaming from the room.
Because I knew the question would come to me soon. And what would I say?
The feeling that nothing had changed, that the last two years never happened, kept forcing me to remember that they had happened. And I was a fool. A stupid, cowardly fool for not demanding that the limo bus stop at the Chosen compound before we left town. I should have found Rachel and demanded to hear her tell me it was over to my face. I shouldn't have just slunk away with my tail between my legs. I should have fought for her. I fucking loved her.
And I probably always would.
Now the question was, did I have the guts to say that into a TV camera? It wasn't like she'd see it.
Except maybe, somehow, she might.
"And Finn." The female interviewer recrossed her legs demurely. "How about you? Anyone special?"
It was just the kind of question nosy interviewers would ask us when we were kids, hoping to get some kind of precociously adorable quote. And Finn knew it, too. I fully expected him to roll his eyes, but he checked himself and just gave a mildly disappointed laugh. "Nah, nobody wants to deal with me."
"Oh I know that's not true," the female host interjected, giving him a decidedly appraising look.
He raised one eyebrow at her. Then, keeping his voice carefully neutral, he said, "I'm just grateful for the chance to play music with my family, and when this is all over, I'm going to go hide in the woods away from people for the rest of my life." He leaned forward, giving the host the full benefit of his quizzical eyebrow. "Seriously, how do you New Yorkers deal with all the people around you all the time?"
The host looked like she wanted to leap onto Finn and lick his face. Claire cleared her throat. "I’m single too," she piped up, her little sister syndrome kicking into high gear. "And loving it. All I need are my girls." She leaned forward, trying to break into the one-sided staring contest the female host was having with Finn, who was now studying his feet. "Isn't that right? We don't need men!"
The male host stepped in. I braced myself. "And of course, Beau. The Quiet One." I smiled and nodded in acknowledgment of my old moniker. "Don't think that by keeping silent we're going to forget you're here!" Chuckles all around. "Is there anyone special in your life?"
I leaned forward. "Yes, there is," I said immediately.
I felt my siblings turn to stare at me, but I ignored their shock. "And I love her very much." I took a deep breath. "And she's trying to figure some things out right now, but I hope that someday our paths will cross again."
Chapter Forty-Six
Rachel
For the second time in a week, I was leaving in the middle of the night.
My legs throbbed with each thumping heartbeat, and with each one, I got angrier and angrier. I'd pushed through the pain, letting it propel me the dark four miles to the Greyhound station on the outskirts of Crown Creek. And with the last bit of money I'd somehow had the foresight to secret away from my parents and the greedy, grubbing hands of the Elders, I'd bought a one-way ticket to New York City.
Now I was on a slightly stinky, and dizzy-making bus, bumping and jostling my way through the night. My entire life, I had never left Crown Creek. Now, each passing mile was the farthest I had ever been from home. But I was too exhausted to think about this for very long. The bus's sway was lulling me as the last bits of adrenaline ebbed away, leaving me desperately sleepy.
Click.
My eyes snapped back open. There was that noise again. The man in the seat diagonally ahead of me had spent the past twenty minutes playing with a deadly looking folding knife. He'd flick it open and then twirl it lazily in his fingers before, click, he snapped it back shut again.
I stiffened and sat up straighter, glancing over at him warily. His wildly unkempt gray hair was corralled underneath a battered leather cap and he wore the leather vest
I'd come to associate with the men who drank all day at the Crown Tavern, leered at me when Beau wasn't looking, and then headed out to their shiny motorcycles to shatter the peace and quiet with their loud engines. I quailed against the window, hoping he hadn't seen me looking at him.
I shifted in my seat, trying to find a comfortable way to hold my injured legs. As I moved around, I hissed as I inadvertently sat on my braid yet again, yanking my head back. The sting of it getting torn out at the roots along my forehead brought tears to my eyes and for a second I just wanted to give in to the tears. To curl up into a ball and feel sorry for myself. "Goddammit," I moaned, hugging my arms around my chest. But swearing held no power anymore. I reached back and lifted my heavy braid again in sudden irritation. I'd worn this braid every day of my life. It was a mark that set me apart from the world. It told everyone in Crown Creek that I was Chosen, that I belonged to that weird, secretive cult they'd all heard about. I stiffened just thinking of the word, having spent a lifetime being conditioned to reject it. But isn't that exactly what the Chosen was? A cult that brainwashed its believers into accepting corporal punishment for the sin of... .singing?
I yanked the tie off the end of the braid and then hastily combed my fingers through my hair, letting it fall loosely around me. I didn't want to ever be marked as Chosen again. Without the heavy braid tugging at my scalp, I felt freer. A headache I'd been living with my whole life suddenly eased.
But the bus was overly warm. And my hair clung to me as hot and itchy as a wool blanket. It hung down in front of my face when I leaned forward, a curtain to hide me from the world.
I didn't want to be hidden anymore.
