Creed

by Trisha Leaver

  I fumbled with the wrapping paper, my eyes closing briefly as I braced myself for the first sparkle of the ring he was undoubtedly going to make me wear. The ring that would further mark me as his and a possession of this crazy town filled with equally crazy people. I carefully peeled back the tissue paper and stared down at what looked like skin.

  Twenty-Four

  My eyes faded in and out of focus as the finger took shape. A bloody, human finger. The stump was ragged, the tiniest bit of white bone showing through the mangled flesh. Fresh blood coated the satin bottom of the jewelry box, seeping into the white tissue paper it was cradled in, dying it red.

  I gasped and dropped the box. The finger rolled out, sliding across the floor, leaving a thin trail of blood behind. I pulled a hand to my mouth in an attempt to keep the contents of my stomach from spewing out.

  “Whose finger is that?” I choked out.

  Elijah chuckled. “You don’t honestly need me to answer that, do you?” His tone was so even, so balanced, that he sounded more like the manager of a Taco Bell than the psychopath I knew he was. “You’re obviously a smart girl. You’ve managed to convince my son to do your bidding and allowed him to take a beating that was rightfully yours.”

  “She didn’t do anything,” Joseph interrupted. He wedged his body between me and his father. There was barely an inch of space between us, but Joseph took up every bit of it, pressing me into his back, protecting me. “She has nothing to do with me leaving. Nothing to do with me or Mom or Aunt Mary. You leave her out of this.”

  “Don’t patronize me, Joseph. I know exactly what you’ve been doing, both of you.”

  I peered around Joseph’s shoulder, forcing myself to look down at the finger. What had he meant by “you don’t need me to answer that”? I squinted, suddenly realizing there was a mark on the finger I hadn’t seen when it was in the box. A tiny black mark. A tattoo.

  I inhaled sharply, staring at it. The barest hint of ink took shape, the black marks stroking downward three times. I inched closer, tears streaming down my face as the tiny Roman numeral three came into view.

  “Oh my God. Oh my God!” I shrieked.

  I wracked my brain, tried frantically to remember if the ink on Luke’s tattoo was that dark, if the lines were that narrow. I could see his hands clear as day—the calloused palms and the cracked knuckles from playing ball in the cold. I could trace every seam of his fingers and knew that the pinky on his left hand was bent at the tip, broken courtesy of an offensive guard two seasons ago. And the middle finger on his left hand … that one was inked with a tattoo.

  “This is … this is Luke’s?” I was barely able to get the words out. Spots flashed before my eyes as I fought to breathe.

  A twisted smirk spread across Elijah’s face. He was happy, enjoying every second of my agony. All this time I’d thought Luke and Mike were tucked safely away in that shack, and now I knew the truth. He’d found them, tortured them, and that knowledge was splintering me into a thousand different pieces all at once.

  “What did you do?” I scrambled out from behind Joseph and hurled myself at Elijah, tearing into him like I was possessed.

  Elijah stumbled backward, stunned, and I lunged at him again, intent on getting my nails into the soft spot on his neck, into his jugular. I was going to kill him. Screw saving Eden. I was going to kill Elijah Hawkins here and now, and then I was going to walk out of here.

  “I warned you!” Elijah yelled as he grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled me off him. He yanked my head back so that I was looking at him. His breath was hot as he pressed his face next to mine, his mouth touching my ear. “I told you to do exactly as I said. When you disobey me, there are consequences.”

  His voice lowered as his disgusting, sour breath poured out over me. He kicked Luke’s finger closer to me, forcing me to look at it. “We don’t desecrate our bodies here. They are our temples, and this mark, this disfigurement, was a sin. It had to be removed or he had no chance of salvation. Trust me, he will thank me for this one day. Both of you will.”

  My mind flashed frantically to Luke’s initials inked on my tailbone. I’d gotten that tattoo four months ago when we were drunk and feeling invincible. We’d driven two hours to Canada and ended up in some sketchy tattoo parlor that didn’t think twice about verifying our fake IDs. Luke held my hand as the needle dug into my skin again and again, branding us as belonging to each other. Exactly how did Elijah plan on getting rid of that?

  I clawed at Elijah with both hands, tried to fend him off despite his hand fisted in my hair. In one swift motion, he released his hold on me and gave me a hard shove. I landed on the floor, my elbow breaking my fall.

  Joseph ran for me, my name —my real name—tumbling from his lips. Elijah hauled off and slapped him, sending Joseph stumbling backward, away from me.

  “Stay out of this, Joseph,” he ordered, then crouched down next to me, his lips inches from mine as he jerked my chin up, forcing me to hear, to digest, each word he said. “You listen carefully, because I will not remind you again. You will not cross me. You will not disobey me, and you will not refuse me. If you do, I promise someone you love will suffer. At the end of the day, you will be safe and warm in my care. You will be guided by me. Your salvation will come through me. It is that boy who will pay. Have I made myself clear?”

  When I didn’t answer, he shook me hard. “I asked you a question, Rebekah. I expect an answer.”

  Joseph crawled up next to me, his hand cradling the side of his face. “Stop it!”

  “Or what, Joseph?” The veins in Elijah’s forehead pulsed as he dared his son to do anything but back down. “You want to try something? Go ahead. Do it. But rest assured, I know all your weaknesses. I know exactly how to get you to do what I want.”

  I’d been here less than a day, and even I could read be-tween Elijah’s twisted lines. He’d figured out why Joseph had come back, why he’d brought me back. Eden.

  “Perhaps a little persuasion is needed where you are concerned as well,” Elijah said as he stood up. “You’re sister is young, Joseph. She has so much life ahead of her, a life that could be perfectly comfortable here. But that’s up to you.”

  “Don’t you touch her,” Joseph growled, the panic he’d kept so well hidden flaming in his eyes. He looked helpless, and I found myself wondering how many beatings he’d taken for Eden, how many times he’d bared his own flesh to spare hers.

  “Your aunt, your mother, even this girl here has paid the price for your indiscretions. Shall we make Eden pay as well? Because it will be your hands that bear her blood and your soul that is condemned, not mine. I don’t kill my followers. They choose their own fate, and in turn, their own punishment.”

  I wanted nothing more than for Joseph to hit Elijah, to knock him on the ground and pummel him. But I knew he wouldn’t. He had at least fifty pounds on his father and was a good three inches taller, not to mention younger and stronger. There was nothing stopping him from knocking Elijah out right now, except for the threat to Eden.

  Elijah smoothed out the wrinkles on the front of his shirt and shot a look of disgust in Joseph’s direction. “You’re lucky, son. This town has been run by our family for generations, and if you weren’t next in line to take over … ”

  He paused and looked at me, his eyes carrying a promise that made my skin crawl. “Tread lightly, Joseph, because once this girl here gives me another son to fashion in my own likeness, I will have no need for you.” A smug smile crept across his face. “No wonder your boyfriend is so worried about you. You’re a very stupid girl.”

  I swiped at the tears slipping down my cheeks, horrible images flickering in my mind. Luke tied up. Luke without a finger. Luke bleeding and worrying about me. Mike screaming for help. Joseph struggling to stand up straight as his father took a belt to his back. And me stuck here forever.

  “Shut up!” I yelled.

/>   Elijah chuckled once more as reached for the doorknob “This time I took one marred finger. Next time I’ll take his hand. Keep disobeying me, Rebekah, and soon I’ll have his life.”

  Twenty-Five

  I stood there staring up at the golden cross glinting in the fading daylight. It flashed like a beacon against the dusk. I rubbed my upper arms briskly, hoping to ward off the chill that was quickly making its way through my thin cotton shirt. No use; the bitter cold had settled into my bones the second I saw Luke’s finger.

  My head was throbbing and my mind was one steady stream of incoherent thoughts. Truth was, I couldn’t remember a damn thing about the past few hours. I remembered the jewelry box, Elijah laughing, and Luke’s finger, but nothing else. I’d gone numb, placed one foot in front of the other, and walked toward the front door of the chapel, staring into a future that looked bleaker by the moment.

  I gripped the railing by the outside steps, its frigid metal bringing me back to the present. Elijah was standing at the top of the steps, smiling and clapping an older man on the back. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they looked at ease with each other, grinning as they spoke.

  “It’s going to be okay, Dee,” Joseph whispered.

  His hand brushed against mine, and I pulled away. “Leave me alone.”

  I blamed Joseph for this. If he hadn’t run off. If he hadn’t set off the alarms. If he hadn’t approached us that morning. If he hadn’t been so intent on saving his sister. All these what ifs leading me back to where I was … stuck. “This is your fault, you know. Your stupid, idiotic, selfish plan has ruined all our lives.”

  A car pulled alongside the chapel, and Joseph tensed beside me. I ignored the man exiting the driver’s side and followed Joseph’s gaze to the passenger side, my eyes trailing from the man’s polished boots to his crisp pants to the gun holstered at his side. I kept going, my heart catching in my throat when I saw his shiny silver badge.

  A tiny bit of hope surfaced as I took in his brown uniform. The Hoopers must have sensed something was wrong when I didn’t call last night and notified the police. Or maybe somebody passing by heard the sirens or saw our mangled car and called it in. Perhaps Mike had gotten away. Propelled by my own stupid optimism, I lunged forward. If I could only get his attention.

  Joseph gripped my forearm, hard. I was about to shake him off when the look on his face stopped me cold.

  “What?” I asked.

  A tight nod of his head told me I wasn’t seeing what I thought I was. “My uncles,” he said.

  “Jared. Jacob. So good of you to come,” Elijah called out, his voice loud and startling as if he intended it to carry my way. “As you know, this is a very important day for both me and our family.”

  Joseph released my arm and moved so I’d have a clear view of his uncles. “They’re not here to help you, Dee. They’re not here to help any of us.”

  Both men bowed their heads. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world, Elijah,” the officer said as he pulled a large envelope from the inside of his jacket. The second man followed suit, producing a smaller one from his briefcase. He was dressed impeccably, in a suit and a pale blue shirt. He looked more like a banker than a small-town councilman.

  “Never late with your share, are you, brothers?”

  Elijah hugged them both and motioned to two women and half a dozen kids standing on the chapel’s front lawn. The kids came rushing forward, chanting the word “Daddy” as they each found some part of the men to cling to. Their wives followed behind quietly. I watched as each man carefully extricated a hand and held it out to his wife. The look of complete adoration and utter happiness on the women’s faces made me sick.

  “Brothers,” I groaned. They weren’t my hope. They were another dead end.

  Elijah turned back to face us, and the sheriff’s eyes traveled past him and landed on me. Every muscle in my body tensed as the man’s smile widened. Apparently, he approved of Elijah’s choice of brides. Well, screw him.

  “Rebekah, it’s time,” Elijah said, beckoning me forward.

  I swallowed hard rather than say something that would get Luke hurt even more.

  Elijah opened the doors wide and the entire congregation turned to see me. I quickly ran through the math in my head as I walked down the center aisle, impressed that I still had the presence of mind to do simple calculations. There were twenty pews, ten on each side. I counted the heads of the people in the row to my left. Eight—nine if you counted the infant bundled into his mother’s arms.

  My mind quickly flashed back to the signs in the maintenance shed. One fifty? No, one forty-nine. Minus Joseph’s mom made it one-forty eight. Elijah could fit the whole damn town in this chapel, and judging from the cramped space, he’d done just that.

  “Your seat, my dear,” Elijah said as he guided me down into the hard wooden pew. “I’ll be introducing you shortly, so keep in mind everything we discussed. This would be a very bad time for you to become defiant. Bad for you; worse for your friends. Understood?”

  I nodded mechanically as he walked away, then looked up and down both sides of the room for an exit. Other than the door we’d come through, I found nothing. Not that I’d have a prayer of getting out of here anyway. Not with a hundred and forty-eight eerily faithful servants blocking my way.

  The front of the sanctuary held a long table. Scattered across it were a few leather-bound books, three pillar candles, and a book of matches. Off to the side was a podium with a plaque bolted to its front. I had to squint to make out the words past, present, and future.

  I watched as Elijah’s brother, the councilman, walked up and began lighting the candles one at a time. He’d changed his clothes. Gone was the fancy suit and tie; in its place were the same plain black pants and white shirt everybody else was wearing. I swiveled around and searched the congregation for the sheriff. He was heading down the center aisle. No gun, no uniform, just the same ugly, Purity Springs-issued prison suit.

  Joseph slipped into the row across the aisle, looking past me to wink at his sister. His face was tense, his eyes dark as he mouthed the words “I’m sorry” to me. I looked away. He wasn’t sorry. He was guilty, and I wasn’t about to help ease his conscience.

  Elijah tapped on the altar. That tiny noise sent the room into complete silence, and he dropped his head in prayer. I watched as everybody followed suit, their heads dipping down and their lips whispering in unison. Chills raced up my arms as the hushed voices closed in around me. I kept my eyes on Eden, frantically trying to figure out what she was chanting.

  Joseph coughed, and I looked up to see Elijah staring down at me. I smiled, playing along, and he returned his attention back to his congregation.

  “You look afraid. Are you?”

  I turned toward Eden’s whispered words. Her huge eyes looked worried, her fingers rubbing the same satin-lined pocket as before.

  I looked up to make sure Elijah was fully immersed in his prophesying duties before I whispered back, “A little. Are you?”

  Sitting there, watching her rub that small spot of fabric like a child, I began to understand why Joseph was willing to risk his life for her. Eden didn’t stand a chance, and with their mother gone, Joseph was her only hope.

  Eden kept her eyes focused forward as she quickly shook her head. “No, I’m not scared. Most of the time I’m just lonely.” Her fingers disappeared into the pocket of her skirt and she pulled out what looked like a piece of dried corn husk.

  “Whatcha got there?” I whispered.

  “Joseph made it for me,” Eden said shyly. Her eyes lit up. It was the tiniest flicker of adoration, and it only lasted a second, but it was enough for me to know she worshipped her brother. “We’re not supposed to have toys, but Joseph said every little girl needs a doll.”

  She inched the small figure closer to me, holding it out as if giving me permission to inspect it.
I turned my head slightly and caught a glimpse of Joseph. He bowed his head, motioning for me to do the same. He had no idea what his sister and I were talking about, and that made his gentle nod in our direction that much sweeter.

  “Can I see it?” I asked.

  Eden laid the doll down on the pew between us, rearranging her skirt to keep it hidden. I ran my fingers across the ball at the top. It was dry, the husks aging and beginning to peel away. Joseph had used ink to fashion eyes. There was a mouth, too, but it was nearly gone, faded from use. Around the doll was a scrap of white fabric. It was nothing more than a rectangle with a notch cut out for the head and a piece of twine cinched around what was supposed to be a waist, but it served its purpose.

  “I have more,” she said as she pulled out two more pieces of fabric—light blue and black. I couldn’t help but smile. Joseph had made her a doll, complete with an interchangeable wardrobe.

  Eden caught my expression and nudged the doll in my direction. “She makes you happy.”

  It wasn’t the doll so much as it was Joseph. Despite who his father was and all he’d been forced to endure, he could still be kind and gentle when it came to his sister. “Yes. She’s very pretty.”

  “Then you keep her,” Eden said.

  “I couldn’t,” I responded, thinking I would rather die than take this girl’s only toy. “Joseph made her for you. She belongs with you.”

  “He can make me another.” Eden picked the doll up and felt around my skirt until she found the pocket. Her fingers worked quickly, and before I could argue, she had the doll safely tucked inside.

  I didn’t know what to say. Thank you didn’t seem to be enough. She was a little girl with no mother and a head-case for a father; the only good thing in her life was Joseph, and he was forced to risk his own safety to make her a doll. I never imagined I’d think it, but even my past paled in comparison to this.