A Ruling Passion

by Judith Michael

  Her nipples were hard and her breasts heavy; she ached between her legs. She was terrified someone would see them; she was terrified of her body. Her heart pounded, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Tangled threads of bright color swam and surged in the darkness.

  And Lily ran.

  She ran frantically, trying to outrun her body, but she was not used to exercise and soon she slowed and stopped, leaning against a tree, panting. She began to cry. Gus found her that way, her head back against the tree trunk, tears covering her face.

  "Don't do that," he said. "I didn't mean it. I mean, of course I meant I love you—you've got to believe I love you—but I didn't mean to make you cry. I forgot, you know, that I haven't any right to say those things to you. It was the forest, I guess, and the mountains —I love them, you saw that right away, and diey make me say things I shouldn't—and then there's all this beauty; you know what that does to me, too. So I forgot I shouldn't even be talking to you, much less touching you; you're so far above me, I haven't any right—"

  'Tou do!" Lily cried, gulping through her tears. "You have every right to say anything you want; I'm not above you, what are you talking about? We're two people who... care about... each other..." She began to make small whimpering sounds. "Can we go back to the car?"

  "Sure. It's a litde ways off; do you want... ?" He held out his hand. Lily hesitated, then took it, and they walked hand in hand through the forest. Like Hansel and Gretel, she thought. She giggled a little wildly and forced herself to stop, and then walked quiedy beside Gus, back to the turnoff where he had left the car.

  "Shall I take you home?" he asked.

  "Yes. Please."

  He drove back the way they had come, to Thornton Gap and down from the mountains to the highway to Culpeper. His face was set; he was fi-owning and silent. Lily was sure he was angry, and she was as afi^aid of his anger as she was of herself. What had she wanted, up there on the mountain? His arms around her, yes, but also his mouth on hers, his body crushing hers. She had wanted him to make love to her.

  V irginal Lilith Grace, chosen by God to survive, to be special and to do good, had wanted a man to make love to her.

  She must not be very special if she wanted sex like everyone else. If God had known she was like that, he never would have helped her walk away unscathed from that terrible plane crash.

  Rudy had told her to stay a virgin. Sybiile had told her she was chosen to do great things: to preach, to lead a huge congregation, to bring Graceville to fruition.

  Sitting in Gus's car, Lily began to cry again. If she was ordinary, what would she do with her life? She didn't know how to do anything but preach.

  "Ifs all right," he said angrily "We'll forget it."

  And then she was terrified all over again. Darlin£f Lily.. . sweet little girl. .. love ... She thought she would die if she never heard Gus say that again. She huddled in the corner of the seat, confused and lost, wishing Sybiile were there. But she couldn't talk to Sybiile; how could she? She couldn't talk to anyone.

  "Lily," Gus said hoarsely as he stopped the car in front of her house. He was frowning deeply. "I won't call you for a litde while, okay? We'll think about things. I love you and I really respect you and I want you to be happy and do your preaching because people need you." He put his hand under her chin and brought her tear-stained face up so she was looking at him through wide, helpless eyes. "We'll figure out something so we can be happy. Remember the mountain and all that beauty. And I'll talk to you on Wednesday. Okay?"

  After a moment, Lily nodded. "Thank you," she whispered, and fled from his car.

  But she did not go to the studio on Wednesday. For the first time since she had begun preaching, she telephoned from home and told the receptionist that she was sick and could not tape "At Home with Reverend Grace." Gus showed a rerun, with an announcement that Reverend Grace had been called away to help a church in trouble, and would be back the following week. That alerted Sybiile, forcing her out of the grip of rage that had held her since Saturday, when she had gone to pick up Chad for dinner. On Thursday morning she phoned Lily at home. "Whafs wrong with you? Have you seen a doctor?"

  "No." Lily's voice was thin. "I just don't feel well. Sort of sick all over. I'm sorry, Sybiile, I know I should have come in, but I couldn't face it. I'm sorry I disappointed you."

  "You disappointed a few million people. You have a responsibility to them, Lily."

  "I know. If s just... I feel so sick and I've got a headache and I feel like I'd throw up if I tried to talk. I just want to sleep all the time."

  "I'm sending you a doctor. His name is—"

  "No! I don't want a doctor! Sybiile, just leave me alone!"

  Sybille's head snapped around as if she had been slapped. '^'Who do you think you're talkin£f to?"

  "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Lily was sniffling. "I didn't mean... I just want to be left alone. I'll be fine; I just need to sleep. I don't want anybody poking me. I mean..." She burst into sobs.

  Sybille gripped the telephone. There was too much going on; she had too much to worry about. The Bakker scandal was growing, not fading; the media were like wolves, baying at the door of every evangelist; Floyd Bassington grated on her nerves, but she couldn't get rid of him yet. But all that faded before the enormity of the scene on Nick's terrace, burned into her memory. It was like a wound that made everything she did hurt. And now Lily. What the hell was wrong with her, that she had to choose this week to mess up Sybille's life even more? The silence dragged out. "Have you written your sermon for Sunday?" she asked at last.

  "No. I don't... I don't know if FU be there."

  'Tou'll be there!" Sybille screamed. She leaped to her feet. 'Tou'll be there if I have to drag you by your hair! You've got a job to do, and you'll fucking do it, is that clear or do I have to repeat it?"

  Lily hung up.

  Sybille held the receiver away from her, staring at it, then flung it to the floor. It dragged the telephone with it, and the crash reverberated in the office. No one came, not her assistant, not her secretary. They were used to sounds of breakage from her office.

  She dragged the telephone to her desk, made sure it was still working, and called Gus to her office. When he walked in, she was standing behind the desk. '"What's wrong with Lily?"

  He looked surprised. "I thought you'd know. She called yesterday, said she was sick and couldn't tape the show."

  She sat down, pointing to a chair, and Gus took it. "She didn't call me. How was her sermon last Sunday?"

  "Terrific. Same as always. I wondered where you were."

  "Something came up; I knew you could handle the show. Have you talked to her since then?"

  Gus looked even more surprised. "I thought you would have."

  "I didn't ask for comments; just answer my question."

  "Right. Sure. Uh, no, I haven't, uh, talked to her."

  Sybille looked at him with narrowed eyes. "What does that mean?"

  "Uh, nothing."

  Anger boiled through her. "God damn it, you're dancing around,

  dying to tell me something. Well, what the hell is it?" She watched him nibble on a fingernail. "I'm waiting!" she said.

  He shrugged. "If you want to know... I've seen her a few times. Dinner, walks in the woods, you know, romantic things. She likes me. So much she got sick."

  "You son of a bitch."

  He shrugged again. "She was lonely, you know that? She's just a baby, Syb; she doesn't know a fucking thing."

  "You son of a bitch."

  "For Christ's sake, I was just keeping her company. Somebody had to."

  "Did you screw her?"

  "Are you kidding? The reason she's all cut up is she wants it but she thinks ifd be wrong or sinful or dangerous or whatever. We didn't do anything. I held her hand."

  "Did you talk about me?"

  "Some. Sure. We talked about lots of things."

  Sybille thought of them talking about her, laughing at her, plotting against her. No wonder Lily h
ad talked back to her—and hung up on her! She thought she didn't need Sybille; she had a man.

  And Valerie had Nick. And Valerie had Chad. And Valerie had everything.

  She felt she was about to explode. Too much was happening. Why wouldn't they all go away and leave her alone so she could get things organized her own way again?

  Lily will. She'll go away, she'll leave you if you don't do something. She'll be taken away by this stupid bastard who thinks he can get her with his prick after all the years I've worked on making her what she is.

  She poured a glass of water from the decanter on her desk, spilling some of it until she managed to get her hand still, and sipped it, letting Gus wait while she tried to concentrate on what to do. He was probably right: Lily had made herself sick because she wanted sex and was scared to death of it. But there was something else that Gus didn't know, because he was too taken up with himself The real reason Lily got sick was because she loved Sybille more than anyone and she couldn't stand having secrets from her. Gus had talked her into having a secret, and it had made her sick.

  Well, then, Gus would have to make her sicker. Because the more sick Gus made her, the more quickly she'd come back to Sybille. Who else did she have to come to? It might seem to some people that Lily was

  taking the first step toward shifting her allegiance, but Sybille knew better. Lily was waiting for a reason to come home. And that was what Sybille had to arrange. Lily had to be driven back to her arms.

  "I think you should see her again," she said smoothly to Gus. "You're absolutely right; she's been lonely and I haven't paid enough attention to her. Anyway, it's time she had a man; she's too innocent to handle half the questions that come in her mail."

  Gus stared at her. "You're not serious."

  "I'm always serious when I talk about Lily. Go to her house. Make her let you in. She may seem upset, but that won't last, not if you're any good. I know Lily better than she knows herself: she loves to give in to someone stronger. You should have a fine time. And then you come back to me and, if you've earned it, I'll have something for you."

  His gaze was fixed on her. "Like what?"

  "I was thinking of station manager of KQYO-TV in Los Angeles."

  "How would that work?" he asked, scowling. "Why would they hire me?"

  "I'd hire you. I bought it a few months ago."

  A slow smile spread over Gus's face. He stood and rotated his shoulders, loosening them up. "If you give me the day off, I might drive out to the country. It's kind of romantic out there, around Cul-peper; lots of beauty around, you know."

  Lily was lying on a chaise on the patio behind her house when Gus arrived. It was midafternoon, and shimmering waves of heat lapped at her; she felt she was dissolving into the sun. When he stood over her, casting a shadow across her face, she opened her eyes in confusion, thinking a cloud had come up. She could not see his face, only his silhouette, but she knew who it was. "You said you wouldn't call," she said, knowing how foolish that sounded.

  "I didn't." He knelt beside her. "Don't be angry with me. I had to talk to you to say I'm sorry. It drove me crazy, you crying in my car; I kept thinking about it and couldn't sleep."

  Lily closed her eyes and said nothing. Her breathing was shallow and quick and she was so hot in the sun she thought she would faint.

  "Lily, talk to me," Gus begged. "Don't ignore me. You'll make me feel you don't like me. I want your friendship." He paused. "I thought, you know, I didn't need anybody, but you made me feel different about that. I need you, Lily, you caring about me and me caring about you. I want to be good to you, you know, because I don't think people really care about you the way I do. I mean, they love you in their

  letters and in church, but they don't care about you, like do you have nice clothes or good food or do you have somebody to keep you warm at night—"

  "No!" Lily opened her eyes and found herself looking into his, a few inches away. "Please stop! I can't talk to you!"

  "It's okay, don't talk, I'll talk."

  "No, I get so confused..." She tried to sit up, but Gus leaned forward suddenly and kissed her. His lips were soft on hers, like the touch of a flower, and she was so surprised she lay stiU, and even when he pressed harder she did not move, because there was still a gentleness in his closed lips that was exacdy what she imagined when she lay hot and twisting in bed, trying not to think about him. They stayed that way for a long time, lips touching, her eyes closed, and then Gus raised his head, and Lily felt cold, even in the hot sun.

  "You're so beautiftil," Gus said. "Beautiftil and wonderful and lovable... like an angel..."

  Lily put up her arms. She had not planned to do that, but they came up and Gus leaned forward again and her arms went around him. He slipped one hand under her head and kissed her, and this time he opened her lips with his and, very slowly, his tongue invaded her mouth.

  Lily tensed, but Gus was holding her head still, and his tongue was sweet, not disgusting as she'd always thought tongues would be; it moved gendy in her mouth, stroking her tongue in a different kind of kiss, not demanding, not forceful, just soft and safe. And as she relaxed under its hypnotic rhythm, Gus's hand accidentally brushed her breast, hesitantly came back to it, and rested on it. He cupped his fingers around it and held it more tightly, and then he was caressing it, rubbing the nipple as it grew hard and upright, teasing it between his fingers. And then his hand moved to her other breast.

  Lily was wearing a cotton blouse, but she felt naked. His hand burned into her, turning her to fire; the fire burned between her legs and she pressed her thighs together, trying to hold it in, but she was so open, everything was running out of her; she was open, and waiting.

  Gus's hand tightened beneath her head, and his other hand moved away from her breast, down her body, not so slowly now, along her skirt and then under it. He lifted her skirt, baring her legs to the hot sun, while his fingers slid upward, between her tight-pressed thighs, until they reached her heavy, aching center, and without a pause plunged inside.

  Lily's eyes flew open. "No!" she cried against Gus's mouth. She felt

  as if an iron rod was inside her, moving around, hurting her. "No, stop, I don't —" She twisted her head, to break free of his mouth, but he pressed harder, holding her head. She arched her back, and flung her body wildly from side to side, like a horse trying to throw a rider. "Stop!" The word was a strangled cry beneath the clamp of his mouth. "Let me go!"

  That was the moment when he might have stopped, if he had not remembered what Sybille had said. She^s always ready to give in to someone stronger. So he shook his head. Any minute, he thought, she'll give in. She really wanted it; that's what Sybille had meant. "It's all right," he muttered against her mouth. "... all right... all right... all right..." He tore open his pants and shoved them down while holding Lily's head and keeping his mouth fastened on hers. She was still fighting him and he worked his finger harder inside her; how come she didn't know that he was stronger than her?

  Lily bit his lip, and tasted his blood. ^'Let me go!"

  "Damn bitch—!" he burst out and gripped the back of her neck so she could not move. She was dizzy; circles of blinding color whirled behind her closed eyes; and silently, fiercely, she fought. Just as silendy, Gus held her down. And in that brief time that he waited for her to give in, he lost the moment when he might have stopped. Crazed with the twisting and arching of her slender body, her wet smoothness sucking against his finger, and the sun pounding down on him, on his perspiration-soaked shirt and his bare buttocks, he climbed on top of her, shoving her legs apart, and rammed his swollen, throbbing prick all the way into her.

  In the summer stillness of the afternoon, Lily screamed.

  Chapter 27

  ■ m / ybille was asleep when her doorbell rang, and it

  V.^_^K^ rang several times before she heard it. The butler

  ^1 ^K and housekeeper were on vacation, leaving her

  ^ ^^r alone in the house, and she lay in bed for anot
her

  minute, thinking she'd ignore it. It was probably

  Bassington; he'd pulled this once before: arrived at midnight for a

  quick toss in bed because he hadn't been able to sleep. She shook her

  head. Let him ring; she couldn't stand the thought of him.

  But the bell kept ringing, a desperate peal that grated on Sybille's nerves, and finally she pulled on a robe and went downstairs. She looked through the library curtains, to glimpse whoever was standing there.

  Lily. Wrapped in a long raincoat. On a clear, hot night in July. "Come in," Sybille said, pushing wide the door. Lily walked stiffly into the entrance hall, as if she were in a trance. Her eyes were red and swollen; her mouth was raw. "My God, whafs happened?" Sybille cried. "Lily! What happened?"

  "Gus," Lily whispered. And she burst into tears. ^^Gus ? Gus Emery ? He raped you ?"

  Lily nodded, once. And dien she crumpled to die floor.

  "Oh, for Christ's sake," Sybille burst out. Why couldn't people do things the way they were supposed to.> Lily was supposed to have given in, hot and eager. Gus was supposed to arouse her to passion, not beat her up and rape her. It was supposed to be a simple seduction that would send Lily to Sybille for comfort and advice, especially after Gus left town for Los Angeles, deserting her. It was not supposed to be a messy rape with emotions Sybille wasn't prepared to deal with, beginning with tears and fainting. You'd think they were in a silent film from the twenties.

  "Lily," Sybille said, kneeling beside her. "I can't carry you; you'll have to walk."

  In a moment, Lily stirred. She opened her eyes. "What?" she asked.

  Sybille helped her stand, and guided her, passive and stumbling, into the darkened living room. "Give me your coat," she said. Lily shook her head. Sybille shrugged and sat her on one of the sofas. Then she went around the room, turning on all the lamps.

  "Too bright," Lily whispered.

  Sybille turned off half the lamps and sat on the arm of the sofa. 'What happened?"

  "He..." She could not say the word. "He forced me. I fought with him, I really did, Sybille... I just wasn't strong enough. But the worst thing..." She turned her head away. "The worst thing is, just before that... and the other day too... I wanted him to make love to me. I didn't want to when he started... when he put his hand... when I knew..." Her teeth were chattering, and she clenched them shut for a minute and clasped her hands tightly in her lap. "But that doesn't matter, it doesn't matter, and what matters is that, earlier, / wanted him to make love to me.^'