Chapter 17
M y sister is a mess of blood, with half an arm missing and her leg gone from her mid-thigh down. Oh… my… God. I have no words for the horror-filled scene before me.
And so, I scream and scream, my hands moving to cover my mouth stuck in a terrible ‘O’.
“This is what happens when you don’t repent, Amy,” Jacob says, splaying his arms wide and doing a little circle around my sister on the ground. “You get punished. But I’ve spared her from God’s Judgment for now, if only to let her be here for the wedding.”
I have no words. I can’t. I?—
“Make no mistake, Amy, that you will be next if you don’t obey me properly as your holy husband,” Jacob sneers, dropping his arms and giving me a deadly look.
No. This can’t be real. I just saw her! I saw her not long ago, looking totally fine. Pale from chemo, but otherwise fine. There’s no way Amelia can come back from this.
“Please…” I say without thinking. “Please let her go. Let us go,” I whisper.
Jacob tsks. “Now, you know I’m not going to do that, Amy. Come now, we have a wedding to do!”
A wedding. How can he even think of that after what he’s done?
“I—”
“Keep in mind that if you say no…” Jacob drawls, ripping his blade from its sheath and holding it to Amelia’s throat after ripping her up by her hair, “I’ll have to kill her. Perhaps both of you.”
I can’t let him hurt my sister any more than he already has. Just the sight before me makes me physically ill. It’s taking everything in me not to throw up.
“Yes,” I whisper, everything in me screaming to run. “I will do it.”
No, my mind shrieks. You have to get out!
But there is no escaping. There’s no way out.
This is to be my life now if I don’t want me and my sister both to die.
And the child I carry inside me.
No, I decide. I have to live for them. If only to protect them from Jacob.
Jacob grabs my wrist and yanks me over to one of the posts holding up the barn’s ceiling. Using rope attached to the post, he binds me there, rendering me immobile.
“Now, you’re going to sit there like a good little lamb while I carry out the ceremony,” he quips, tone light, but I see the darkness in his gaze.
I’m dead if I don’t obey.
I’m fully convinced he will kill me now. After seeing my sister with limbs amputated and her already frail body in its current bloody state…
There’s nothing Jacob wouldn’t do, no threat—imaginary or otherwise—that he wouldn’t get rid of. All to have me.
He would kill for me. Maim for me. Torture for me.
And now he would be my husband.
“We are gathered here today to unite two souls in holy matrimony,” Jacob begins, plastering on a serene smile.
He’s the picture of ease as he goes through the motions of the ceremony, as if this is simply another day’s work for him. For me, it’s the end of everything as I know it.
“… And do you, Amy Dean, take Jacob Emery to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
I want to say no. I want to resist with every fiber of my being.
But as my sister stares at nothing, her breathing ragged, I have a feeling he would kill her if I refuse, if only to punish me.
“I…” I trail off, trying to force the words out. “I do,” I whisper in terror.
Jacob beams. “Then I pronounce you—us—husband and wife.”
He comes to stand before me, a mere foot away, and lowers his lips to just before mine. I want to shrink away, but I can’t move.
“You may now kiss the bride.”
And he does.
His lips meet mine with a passion that takes me off guard yet is so, so like the man I’ve made love to countless times now.
His tongue fights for entrance, which my body grants of its own accord.
My life has been forever altered.
I’m now bound in flesh and soul to a monster.
Dear God help me.
It’s been three days. Three days of hell, of not knowing what is in store for my sister.
Jacob refuses to let me see her, but I have a feeling he’s doing terrible things to her, torturing her, but I can’t seem to understand why.
He mentioned she threatened to go to the cops, and could anyone really blame her for that?
But to him, that’s enough to send him off the deep end. Her refusal to join us. At this point, I almost hope she will be put out of her misery. Why join a madman in his craziness?
I thought I was making my own decisions, but I almost feel like Jacob is a puppeteer and I’m a puppet; he’s pulling the strings.
I wanted my soul to be saved, but I feel like he’s only been bringing me closer to damnation.
The worst part is that I see no way out.
For either of us.
So, when Jacob is praying over dinner, I finally ask the question, “What have you done to her?”
I already know, I think, but I need to be certain…
He dabs his lips with a napkin, the lasagna on the table barely touched by my fork; I’ve just been moving my food around my plate, numb.
“What needed to be done. She had to be cleansed,” he says lowly, cutting into his lasagna and taking a bite.
“Does that mean she’s dead?” I whisper.
He gives me a level look, as if the idea of questioning him is ludicrous. “Why does it matter? She refuses to repent. It would be a blessing to her for her body to finish cleansing and purification.” His eyes narrow. “Perhaps you need to partake again, in cleansing another. Then you’ll understand the beauty of it like you should.”
The mere idea makes me sick. Bile rises in my throat that has nothing to do with the quality of the food before us.
Taking a sip of water, I force myself to breathe.
It’s true. I did help him with cleansing another. But the idea of doing that again?
You want to , a sinister part of me whispers. You want to do it again. To partake.
And yet I’m sure that voice belongs to the Devil.
“That’s what we’ll do tonight,” Jacob decides with a nod. “We’ll bring another into our flock, and if they refuse, they shall be purified.” His eyes gleam. “Think of it as a date,” he says with a wink.
He’s vile. Disturbing. Utterly wicked.
And he’s my husband.
My skin crawls with an unpleasant feeling that makes the hairs raise on my arms.
And when he brings me to his Mercedes, starting the car and driving us into the city, that feeling of dread only grows tenfold.
We’re getting closer and closer to taking another life. Because I know for a fact any sane person would say no to his offer.
I’m clearly an outlier. Something is deeply wrong with me. I should have let him kill me.
And yet, I didn’t. I was so determined to save my sister, to make sure her treatment was taken care of, and now that’s all a waste. Because she’s probably going to die, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
I feel so utterly helpless.
If there was only some way I could run…
Yet I have a feeling he’d find me wherever I went. But maybe… just maybe… I can try.
Maybe I can try tonight .
My mind says it’s worth it, but my heart says my sister still needs me. That if there’s any chance for her living, I shouldn’t anger Jacob.
But what if I reach the cops where my sister failed? What if they can help us?
My thoughts come to a screeching halt when the car rolls to a stop beneath a bridge that casts the surroundings in endless shadow. Around us, the city bustles with life, the sky a dark, hazy blueish black smattered in clouds that almost seem to glow.
No one even knows that this is happening. That someone is likely about to die. That a monster lays within the darkness in wait for his next victim.
Jacob turns to me in the car, his eyes assessing, prodding. It’s a look that could scorch into my very soul. Finally, he nods, seeming pleased with whatever he saw. “You’re ready. Let’s go.”
He grabs hold of my wrist when we exit the car, and with a grip like a vice, all hope of running ceases. He’s too strong. He’ll probably outrun me.
Not now, my mind whispers. Soon .
“The key to picking out the next sinner is to gauge how much they sin,” Jacob murmurs beside me as we begin walking to the seedier district of West Philly, different from where he picked me up in the South. “See how they interact with others. See if this is something they revel in, that they seem like they live for.”
I swallow, slowly nodding. “Okay…”
“I usually vie for prostitutes and strippers, but sometimes I go for heavy hitters like businesswomen obsessed with money and status.”
He lists his method of stalking like he’s simply discussing the weather, like it’s an ordinary thing to speak of. The more he talks, the more I feel sick.
“… And then you strike,” he whispers.
Jacob brings us to a halt near a strip club.
“I don’t want the cops to catch on that strippers are going missing,” he muses. “So let’s vie for a whore this time, a true one.”
His words are appalling. I know women like this; most of them are only doing it because they need the money desperately, like I did. He’s wrong; I wasn’t craving sin when I did what I did. I just wanted to help my family.
It’s like there’s a crack in his lies, in his methods, that just keeps on fracturing right before my eyes.
For a short time, I thought he could be a wise man of the cloth, but he’s really just a demon in disguise. He wasn’t spoken to by God; he was spoken to by darkness incarnate.
Spotting a blonde woman with blue eyes working a corner, Jacob smiles. “Ready?” he quips.
No , my mind screams. Never .
“Yes,” I whisper instead.
Because maybe while he’s distracted, I can run and get help.
I’ll just have to hope he doesn’t catch me.