Chapter 10 #2
“You know…” he went on, stepping closer. “You should tell Father here that marriage counseling’s a waste of time. Some women just need to learn their place, under their husband as the good lord intended. Holy woman, as you oughta’ know how to train her right.”
I kept my expression smooth and neutral.
“That’s not my role,” I said.
He tilted his head. “No?”
“No,” I repeated. “My role is to serve the church, not its patrons.”
His smile widened. “You look like you’d be good at serving. On your knees.”
The words slid where they were meant to, and my breath hitched. I felt the flicker of something dark and old stir inside me, and with it the instinct to play, bait, and dismantle him piece by fucking piece.
But I was not here for that…yet, and not him.
“I’ll pray for you,” I said instead, learning quickly that was the hillbilly way of saying, ‘Fuck you.’
That surprised him. I saw his amusement faltering just for a second before he smiled wider.
He scoffed. “Yeah. You do that. Pray for me at night on those porcelain little knees of yours.”
Behind him, Jedidiah stepped forward.
His eyes found me immediately.
Not in suspicion as I had expected, but in assessment. more concerned at the moment because of this arrogant asshole’s presence looming over me. Jedidiah didn’t like this man. There was something sharper beneath the look of concern and curiosity.
He looked at Jack, and his face soured.
I watched the moment it clicked, like a mask falling over his features, a red haze seeming to surround him.
The way Jed’s jaw tightened. The way his gaze flicked between us, my lowered eyes, my back against the corner wall, and Jack’s proximity with the smug curl of his mouth.
The air changed around us.
I straightened my posture, lifting my head just enough to meet Jedidiah’s steel blue eyes.
Only for a moment.
I hoped it was enough to let him see that I was fine and not like the fragile idiot cowering behind him.
Or that it was enough to let him know I had handled it myself and didn’t need the big brute trying to save a stranger again, only to fuck it up and make things worse.
Jack clapped his hands together in a prayer motion. “Well. That was enlightening, Father.”
Jedidiah didn’t respond. Instead, he stepped forward, pushing Jack out of the way with gentle hands and placing himself deliberately between Jack and me.
“Ma’am,” he said calmly. “You can go.”
I inclined my head. “Yes, Father.”
As I passed him, close enough to feel the heat of his presence, I heard his breath hitch. What I didn’t expect was for my own to match it. I smiled to myself as I walked away.
“C’mon, Holy man. Let’s finish this.”
Miranda scampered out of the way quickly as the door shut, and she tried to keep herself by my side.
“Hey, you. Are ya new here?”
Her grating, shrill voice got on my nerves instantly, and not just her atrocious accent. There was something about her fragility and bending nature that made me uncomfortable.
Maybe it was because I was a lot like her.
“What’s up with your eyes?”
Greaaaat. Nothing like small-town racism at its finest. I gave her the benefit of the doubt.
“I was born in Kabukicho, Japan. I am not from America, much less your town of Monticello.”
Her face went crimson. “Sorry. My Ma always told me to keep my questions to myself. It’s just you’re different, and that’s really nice around here. My name is Miranda, and you?”
I mimicked her smile. “Say—uh—Ayakashi.”
Ayakashi is what Jedidiah called me in my dream. It means a vengeful spirit, like an Oni.
Looking back, I smiled for real. Jedidiah Franklin was about to find out just how vengeful I could be.
“Have you met anybody else? Monticello is pretty big for a small town. We got The Cross’s, Jerry and Dawn…real sweet people. We also have the Valors. Though I suppose it was just Beatrice out there now, her sons had grown up and left her.”
She paused, making a sad face.
“One died, bless his heart, and her husband. But then she’s got Callaghan, but he done ran off and got married movin’ where the wife lived.
Up near my place, there are a lot of us.
You should come by. My son would like ya.
He’s a good boy. Only eight, but he knows the whole world, I swear.
He just looks at you with his pretty gray eyes, and it’s like a storybook unfolding. Then we have—”
“Miranda. Our acolyte needs to resume her duties, and your husband is waiting on you, dear. Best you head out for the night. God bless.”
Gloria saved me from Miranda’s good intentions that left my head spinning: too many people and too much information.
“Oh! Of course, sorry. Anyways, nice meetin’ ya…aya…kaki…God Bless.”
She ran off, and Gloria shook her head.
“That girl is trouble. You’d best find your friends elsewhere.”
I frowned and watched the pretty blonde get into the truck outside, already hearing the man inside yelling at her.
Poor thing…Hopefully, she will be freed one day, too.
Life had many cages.
Some were seen.
Some were not.
Father Jedidiah came out of his office like a man resurfacing from deep water.
His shoulders were bunched tight, while his collar sat too close to his throat. Whatever Miranda and Jack had talked about left behind something that clung to him.
It looked like grief, guilt, and a responsibility he was struggling to hold on to. His aura was off. The usual bright ray was clouded like an invisible residue he hadn’t had time to wash off before encountering something unexpected.
Me.
He stopped short when he saw me again, truly looking at me like it was the first time.
I was standing exactly where I should have been now, under the watchful hawk eye of Gloria. She stuck me near the sacristy table. My hands were folded, my eyes lowered, and my posture was composed. I was the picture of quiet service.
The way he hesitated, inhaling my scent, pretending it was the candles around us. It was weirdly unnerving.
He didn’t recognize me.
He couldn’t. I even raised the tone of my voice, making it much higher than the normal husky edge.
He never saw my face…well, not for a long time. Would he remember the broken woman I used to be? I was covered in ruined makeup, come, and blood. Surely he wouldn’t recognize me, and there was no way he could remember my presence or my purpose.
“Excuse me,” he said politely, standing beside me, and dusting off a candle near me.
I looked up then, startled just enough to seem natural.
“Yes, Father, can I be of assistance?”
His eyes searched my face openly now. No more indulgence, and luckily not familiar. This was more of a cataloging, like he was trying to place me in a mental ledger that had no entry for my name.
“Sorry, I…You’re…?” he prompted.
“An acolyte, Father,” I said softly, as if embarrassed he had to ask, secretly reveling in knowing it was not what he meant. “I’ll be assisting with the sacred duties.”
He paused, and I tried not to laugh at his puzzled expression.
“I don’t recall meeting you,” he said.
“No,” I replied gently. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”
That unsettled him more than if he had remembered incorrectly. I saw it in the way his brow furrowed, and the way his gaze flicked briefly down the hall. He was waiting for someone else to be here to confirm my existence.
Nothing happens off Daddy’s watch, huh?
“And your name is?”
“Ayakashi,” I said slowly, savoring the expressions painting his pale features.
He blinked, mulling over my name and likely trying to understand its meaning.
“That’s…unique,” he said carefully, and I laughed, unable to help myself. Yes, yes, Americans always thought my name and my language were funny. Hell, even my look was weird, but I was beyond caring.
“I’ve been told that—” I started.
“And beautiful,” he said, his words catching me off guard.
He glanced at my vestments, simple, correct, and already approved. Everything about me fit in this little church, except the fact that it was me. That was the problem. I didn’t fit anywhere.
“Who assigned you?” he said.
“Bishop Matthews, of course.”
The name landed exactly where I had wanted. His expression changed, not dramatically, but subtly. The authority rearranged the room into nice, neat rows before us.
“I wasn’t informed.”
“I imagine he thought it unnecessary for my duration here,” I said. “I was told to be…unobtrusive and obey every command. After all, we are to follow our own path, right, Father?”
His mouth tightened at that.
“You were listening outside my office.”
I lowered my eyes immediately. Shit, I wasn’t prepared for the priest to be so ballsy and call me out.
He was careful with his words with Miranda and even more so with Jack.
Was that only for the patrons, and was he actually an asshole to his staff?
It explained why the chirping cow, Gloria, was such a hard ass.
“I was preparing the corridor for evening prayers.”
“I see. Even still, you heard raised voices.”
“Yes.”
“And you stayed.”
“I didn’t think it was my place to leave,” I said. “Unless I was dismissed, of course. Gloria assigned my station, and I didn’t want to disobey.”
That stopped him.
Obedience. Is that what the sweet little priest wanted from his slaves?
The silence stretched, and I wished I could read his mind.
“You shouldn’t involve yourself in pastoral matters. ‘Let your foot be seldom in your neighbor’s house,’ ” he said at last.
“Lest he have his fill of you and hate you.” I finished for him. “I wouldn’t dare. I only observe, Father.”
His gaze sharpened. “Observation can still be intrusion.”
“Sometimes,” I agreed. “Other times, it’s witness.”
Another pause.
He rubbed his thumb briefly against the edge of his rosary, a nervous habit he likely didn’t realize he had, which was funny because I did the same thing.
“Why did you choose to serve?” he said, suddenly catching me off guard.
Ah…The question beneath the question.
I considered him for a moment, how tired he looked, how tightly wound he was after dealing with the trainwreck couple, and how deeply he believed restraint was the same as righteousness.
“Because I respond well to structure,” I said. “Clear expectations and clear boundaries. I can better my path to God by offering my services to his men.”
His eyes flicked up to me, and the blue seemed to swirl like an ocean.
“I find comfort,” I continued. “In being told what is permitted…and what is not.”
That made the oceany-pools smolder.
He inhaled slowly. “Service isn’t about submission, Ayakashi.”
“No,” I said quickly. “It’s about devotion.”
He didn’t answer, just stared at me.
“I like knowing my role,” I added. “Where I’m meant to stand. When I’m meant to speak, when silence is required, I am a good servant of God and of God’s teachers.”
He watched me now with something closer to caution.
“You speak very…deliberately,” he said.
“I try to be mindful,” I replied. “Words matter. Especially here.”
“Yes,” he said. “They do.”
The hall felt suddenly too narrow and too intimate.
This is what you’re here for, dummy.
He cleared his throat. “You should return to your assigned duties.”
“Of course,” I replied. “Unless you require my personal assistance. ‘Let the one who is taught the word share all good things with the one who teaches.’ ”
His jaw tightened.
“No,” he said firmly. “I don’t. There is plenty of time for teaching you, child.”
I inclined my head obediently, matching the drones I binge-watched on TV.
“As you wish, Father.”
I turned to go.
“Ayakashi,” he said.
I stopped, but didn’t face him. “Yes, Father?”
He hesitated, and I savored it.
“You’ll need to check in with me before remaining near counseling sessions. Their lives are private, and the space is sacred.”
“Of course,” I said softly. “I wouldn’t want to be somewhere I’m not permitted. I know my place and do not intend to try to save someone unwilling.” When I finally looked back at him, our eyes met.
I looked long enough to see the confusion there, enough to know he felt it too. It was that faint, unsettling sense that something had entered his world without permission, fully sanctioned, and impossible to remove without consequence.
Then I walked away.
Behind me, Father Jedidiah stood very still, trying to remember a meeting that had never happened, already questioning his own certainty and making me glow from the inside out with joy.
Oh, ōkami. Prayer may be silent, but I can’t wait to hear your devilish cries as you succumb to me.