Chapter 6
I can’t believe he touched me like that. I can’t believe even more that he’d do it while I’m sleeping!
Just the feeling of his hot cum on me makes me squirm, and I don’t think it’s in a good way. Everything about me feels violated right now.
Sitting at this stupid dinner table, looking at him over the plates of steak and potatoes with a salad and wine, I’m even more disturbed that he’d try to wine and dine me after literally masturbating over my sleeping body! And touching me!
Everything in me is on high alert. It’s so quiet in here, you could nearly hear a pin drop. The only noise is the sound of silverware scraping the plates.
He choked me in that bedroom. He fucking choked me. And what I hate the most is that even though it was non-consensual, I…
I liked it. I liked him touching me, even though everything in my mind is screaming that this is repulsive. This is wrong .
And when he invites me for dinner, I’m even more disturbed. How could he think that’s appropriate after violating me like that?
Yet I can’t deny that I’m starving. I can’t even remember the last time I ate. Before my work shift? That was over a day ago.
Sitting at the dining table, a fork to my right and a glass of wine to my left, I’m disgusted to find my steak has already been cut like I’m a child and there’s no knife to be seen. I’d been hoping I could sneak it away as a weapon, but he was smart about keeping it from me.
“I’m happy you’re here,” Jacob says, seeming content as he faces me. The picture of ease, or delusion? “Now,” he says, bowing his head, “Let us pray.”
I merely stare. Fuck this.
His eyes briefly flick to me, and his jaw clenches and unclenches, before they close.
“Our Father in Heaven, we thank you for the privilege of providing us this food. We thank you for bringing Amy here, for her previous path was full of sin and destruction. Now, she sees the light.”
Listening to him, my stomach roils with nausea that makes bile rise in my throat.
Whatever light he offers, I want no part of it.
“Please, Lord Father, help guide us in your holy way. In Jesus Christ’s glorious name we pray,” Jacob finishes. “Amen.”
He picks up his fork and knife with a smile. I work to hide my own.
There’s a chance. There’s a fucking chance.
I tentatively take a bite of steak, surprised by how good it tastes. It’s medium rare, just how I like. How did he know? My eyes narrow slightly, but I work to keep my face neutral as Jacob takes a sip of wine.
He said he’s been watching me. Of course he knows what I like to eat.
The fact remains unsettling, however, and I swallow my food uneasily, wondering just what else he knows about me.
Does he know about Amelia?
I grit my teeth, reaching for another bite with my fork.
“How do you like the food, Amy?” Jacob asks, voice deceptively soft. I spare a glance up at him.
I fight to keep my voice level. “It’s fine.”
“It’s fine, Father Jacob,” he corrects, narrowing his gaze.
I clear my throat, gripping my fork tighter. I guess he’s some sort of unholy priest. “It’s fine, Father Jacob,” I force out.
A serial killer who poses as a priest…
Disgusting.
More nausea upsets my stomach when he says, “I’m extremely happy you’re here, Amy.”
His voice is so… soft. So tender and caring.
It’s a sharp contrast from the monster who killed a man right before my eyes just a day ago.
Why does he kill? I want to ask, but I’m scared of the answer.
I say nothing, and his glass cracks under the weight of his grip. The blood rushes from my face.
“It’s rude not to respond when someone is speaking to you, Amy.”
Like a switch flipped, his voice is like ice in the air freezing me down to my bones.
“S-sorry,” I stammer.
His fist bangs on the table. “Father Jacob!”
“Sorry, Father Jacob,” I whisper, startled by his outburst and switch of mood.
This seems to appease him, as he returns to eating like nothing happened. “Well then,” he says, “have you had a chance to read some of the texts I left in your room?”
I slowly now, my appetite gone. “Yes, Father Jacob.”
“And? What did you think?”
“I…” I trail off. If I tell him the truth, who knows what will happen? I could lie. “They were very enlightening, Father Jacob.”
“In what way?” he presses.
I pause, weighing my words. “They showed me a lot of your beliefs.” I’m struggling to get the words out; they taste thick and empty in my mouth.
Nonetheless, Jacob nods. “Mm. Tonight is the night you will repent, Amy. Likely for the first real time.”
Oh no. That means…
As if reading the horrified look on my face, he adds, “You must make a blood sacrifice. Nothing major, just one cut.” He tilts his head. “Perhaps more, considering the depth of your sin.”
I have to get out of here. No way am I letting him put a knife in me. Fuck that.
Without thinking, I shove away from the table. “May I return to my room?” I quickly add, careful not to forget, “Father Jacob.”
“You haven’t finished the meal I made you,” he retorts, voice souring immediately.
“I… I don’t have much of an appetite, Father.”
Jacob dabs his lips with a napkin. “The very idea of repenting disgusts you, doesn’t it? I was once like you. Before God spoke to me.” He smirks lightly. “Your first atonement should change things.”
Then he rises from the table, collecting our plates and frowning at the glassy mess he made.
“Come. Let’s get this over with,” he beckons, walking over to the kitchen to dispose of our dishes.Nearby, his dog Matt lays on the floor, ears down as if he, too, knows the fate awaiting me.
My body starts shaking, and the food I just ate threatens to come back up.
He’s going to slice into me.Holy fucking shit.
And I’m powerless to stop it. Unless I get his knife, or any weapon, I can’t do anything. Nothing to protect myself.
I have to get his knife.
My eyes flick down. It’s right there.
Before he comes back, I snatch up the knife and hide it within the waistband of my pants, beneath my tank top.
I’ll get him when he comes to me in bed again. Some sick fuck like him probably would repeat offend. Oh my God. I’m going to do this. I’m?—
“It seems you’re going to need to atone more than I thought,” Jacob says, already beside me.
His voice is deadly. If the tension in the room was thick before, it’s stifling now.
I’m such a fool.
He’s a practiced killer, not some newb. Of course my ‘stealthy’ moves were anything but, even when his back was turned.
“I-I’m sorry, Father,” I say, my voice but a whisper.
The knife feels white-hot where I’ve tucked it into my pants, practically searing me with a hiss of betrayal. I should have known better.
“Give me the knife,” Jacob sneers, all niceties gone now in the wake of what I’ve done.
I obey, numbly handing it over to him as my chest tightens. When my fingers graze his, a sense of hollowness envelopes me. Like the last of my hope just fled.
He raises the blade, narrowing his eyes at my clothes, and I suddenly feel bare before him in a way that’s less than inviting. A part of me wants to run, to hide, but another part of me demands I stand my ground and face this monster.
“Strip,” he commands, and my face pales.
He doesn’t mean… “What?” I whisper in terror, my voice quivering. “—Father Jacob.”
“Did I stutter? Take off your clothes.”
My body moves with no feeling. Like a robot, I do as he says, feeling that with every layer a strip of my self-esteem and confidence is taken away.
I leave on my bra and panties, refusing to let him defile me again. It’s the only protest I can muster, with him wielding a weapon against me.
Without warning, Jacob swipes our glasses off the table, sending it flying to the ground with sickening shatters and clinks.
“Lie on the table.”
It’s like I’m watching this from outside my body, frozen and unable to fight back.
The silverware digs into my skin as I obey, my chest beginning to rapidly rise and fall as it fully dawns on me what he could do in my vulnerable state.
“Don’t fucking move,” he seethes, coming to stand flush against my shins draped over the table. “I’m going to cleanse you, and you’re going to bear it. You have to be strong enough to bear it.” His voice is tender at the end, and I feel sick. How quickly he switches is giving me whiplash.
Slowly, reverently, Jacob splays his hand against my abdomen, his head bowed in prayer as he whispers under his breath to his unholy god. The sensation of him touching me makes all my hair stand on end and a disgusted feeling spread over my skin. But there’s something else—something intimate about this.
I haven’t had a man truly touch me in a long time. The club was different; some girls let the guys have their way with them, but no touching was my personal golden rule.
One Jacob is sorely, sorely breaking.
I hated being looked at like a piece of meat at Jinxed, but I always reminded myself I was doing it for my sister.
Yet now… now, I’m bearing through a whole new hell that I never asked for.
The way he looks at me when he finishes praying stirs something in me. Something I refuse to allow, to accept. This is a killer, a man who’d slaughter me if given the chance.
But I refuse to let that happen. I’ll fight, I decide, until I have no fight left.
And if that means going along with his wicked ways for a little while… so be it. I’ll do anything for my family.
His head raises. “For the Lord commanded an offering of blood for the payment of sin,” he croons, lowering the blade to my flesh.
The sting is slow at first, then fiery and quickly unbearable. I cry out, squirming to get away, but a strong hand holds me down. Jacob’s grip is bone-crushing as he keeps me in place, his blade digging jagged lines into my skin. I kick, I shriek, but the pain just keeps coming.
A sweat builds on my neck.
I have to stop this. I have to?—
“There.” Jacob lets me go, and I sag against the table as blood flows in rivulets down my sides, my stomach.
It’s deep enough to scar, deep enough to remind me of this moment for the rest of my life.
When I raise my eyes to his, he smiles.