5. Chapter 4
Chapter 4
Eden
E ach drop of pounding rain against my skin is like tiny needles. My shirt, soaked through, clings to me, leaving nothing to the imagination. I hug myself tightly, feeling their eyes on me again, the shame burning hotter than the cold that’s making me shiver uncontrollably. Mud cakes my legs, stinging the fresh scabs that line my arms, each one a harsh reminder of what was exposed. Every step is a struggle, each one pulling me further from the safety of home and deeper into the realization that my parents will believe whatever lies Aiden feeds them.
They always do.
The anger in my chest tightens, making it harder to breathe, harder to think of anything but getting away from this nightmare.
"I fucking hate him," I hiss, wondering how I can go home and not kill my brother.
For as long as I can remember, Aiden has made it his life's mission to torment me. He was always second best before I left for college. Since I got back, he’s twisted their disappointment in me into something vile, turning them against me at a time I needed them most.
Slipping on mud as I walk, I try and think of something positive.
Nothing but negativity festers within me.
"I am going to fucking murder-"
Seeing headlights up ahead, I stop in my tracks, weighing out the pros and cons of the situation.
Either I stop this car and risk getting murdered, or I somehow try and find another way home before nightfall.
Seems like my odds are 50/50.
Running out into the middle of the road, I wave my scarred arms, no doubt looking like a crazed lunatic or some sort of swamp monster covered head-to-toe in mud and grime. The black 4Runner rolls to a stop before me, but the windows are too tinted for me to see inside. I stumble haphazardly toward the driver's side door which is now opening.
Grabbing the door, I gasp, unable to think up a valid excuse believable enough for the situation I’m currently in.
"I’m sorry-" I begin, but my words catch in my throat. Roman's wide eyes meet mine, both of us stuck in a state of surprise.
When I asked God for grace earlier, this is not what I’d meant. At that moment, divine intervention seemed so cruel.
Wishing now, more than ever, that I could crawl into a hole. Becoming much more aware of my exposed body, I can feel my nipples peeking through the soaking wet material of my top. I immediately move to wrap my arms around my middle.
"Father- "
Without a word, he steps away from the running vehicle, ignoring the rain that soaks through his clothes. The flannel and black shirt instantly begin to cling to his muscular frame. His large hand grips my elbow and firmly guides me toward the passenger side door.
"Father, wait-"
"Get in, Eden," He snaps, his tone rigid as he flings the passenger side door open. Rain rolls down his face.
I swallow hard, deciding not to argue as I slide into the passenger seat. The scent of car leather and a hint of spice fills the interior. I watch him move around to the driver’s side, his anger palpable. He slams his door shut and grips the steering wheel tightly, his frustration evident even without words
Shaking from the cold, I run my hands through my hair, mortified by how indecent I am in his presence.
"Who did that?" He questions, keeping his focus out the window, the rain slamming down on the glass. He moves his hand to the center of the dash and turns on the heat.
Feeling the gust of warm air, I settle into the seat. Keeping a safe distance from him, I angle my legs toward the window, staying silent as I try to come up with a lie to cover this up.
"I'm not asking again. Who did it?" He moves his eyes to me, staying focused on my face. I can sense his rage is palpable enough to keep him from glancing down at the cuts I know he’s seen on my arms by now.
"No one-"
He grabs the bottom of my shirt, his warm fingers brushing against my skin. My eyes widen as he points to the nail marks on my side, dark pink and rough scars beginning to form as my body still works to heal from the night I’d prefer to forget.
Looking him over, warmth floods my cheeks, traveling down my body, inconveniently settling between my legs as much as I wish it didn't.
"Who did that? Was it your brother's friends-"
"That wasn't from today," I mutter, fighting back the urge to cry.
Clenching his jaw, he yanks his hand away, pressing his fingertips over his closed eyelids.
"Why the hell are you even up here?"
"Why are you?" I push, pissed by the authority in his tone.
"Your father said you were going to some lookout spot with your brother. I like being alone with my thoughts after Mass and wanted to see if it was worth the drive. Your turn," He hisses.
"Aiden... I drove Aiden and two of his friends up here to... smoke, after Mass.”
"Who were the other two?" He questions, not letting me finish.
"Zack and Nathan."
"From the congregation?" He bites out.
Nodding, I force myself to continue.
"They placed a bet to see if Zack could see what was under my sweater," I sob, opening and closing my hands. "He was being kind, and ripped it off when I least expected it-"
"Stop talking," Roman hisses, his knuckles white from how hard he’s gripping the steering wheel.
Several seconds pass, his focus on anything but me .
Eventually, his gaze finds its way to my arms. I expect to see judgment written across his face, but his expression is something I can’t quite decipher. Something like understanding mixed with sorrow.
"How long?"
"Three months," I admit, feeling as if this is the first time I've actually been honest with a confession.
"And the nail marks?" He questions. "When did you get those?"
I bite my lip as I swallow down my pride.
"Three months, two weeks, and one day," I say coldly.
He looks back out the window before putting the 4Runner in drive and pulling away from The Overlook.
The sound of the rain drowns out the silence between us.
I didn’t have to give Roman too much direction to get me home. My family name is well-known enough in this town, making it common knowledge where we lived. As we enter the gated community, I give him the pin, and the gate swings open. He parks the car a few blocks away from my house. The heavy rain makes it impossible for anyone to be out. He turns off the ignition and shifts his focus towards me.
"Thank you, but I need to clarify, my brother-"
"Should tread carefully," Roman hisses, my excuse silenced.
Shaking my head, I narrow my eyes.
"Aiden is easily influenced- "
"Is that not who the Devil preys on most?" Roman questions, the divide between the two of us prevalent in these moments.
He believes faith is the only path. I believe –well, I don’t even know what I believe in but it hasn’t been anything since that night.
"You can't blame the Devil when everyone has free will. Everyone has a choice in the sins they commit," I hiss, waving my arm in his face. "The Devil didn't make me cut my skin to cope with –”
"Do you enjoy pain?" Roman asks, his hand curling around my wrist. Watching him study the cuts, I shake my head.
"I enjoy forgetting."
He glances up, his eyes piercing through me for a moment before he responds.
"You think this will make you forget?" He drags his finger down my wrist. My breath catches in my lungs, my body betraying me with a dull throb between my legs.
Fuck, what am I doing?
My house is just a few blocks away, I could just leave-
"I'll take other suggestions," I blurt out. His expression turns dark, something that sounds like a low growl rumbles in his throat.
Unlike Zack, Roman doesn’t treat me like I’m his prey. The way he looks at me comes from some other place.
Perhaps desire?
Maybe hate?
He glances down at my pants pocket, the small blade wrapped in thin cloth sticking out. When I see that he’s noticed it, I quickly reach down to conceal it .
"You keep it with you?" He questions.
"No I-"
Grabbing the cloth, he unfolds it before me. He nestles the blade in his palm, pinching its dull side while keeping my wrist firmly at my side with his free hand.
"Pain can be released from the body in many different ways. Some see pain as God's greatest test for strength," He pushes, holding the blade close to my wrist, my eyes growing wide.
"What are you doing-"
"Your plan was to lock yourself in your room and do this to yourself wasn't it?" He asks. "Tell me, do you feel relief in this moment?"
Watching him gravitate the blade closer, I turn my head away. He grabs my chin between his fingers, forcing me to look back.
"Watch," He urges, touching the point to my wrist. "If this is really how you think your pain should be handled, you won't mind watching."
I yank the blade away from him and lean over the center console, my anger wrapping around me like a protective blanket as I get in Rowan’s face.
"Fuck you," I hiss. "You're no better than them-"
His voice cuts me off in a low growl.
"Lay back," He snaps, no gentleness in his command.
"What?"
Pushing me back down into the seat, he reaches over me and grabs the lever to move the backrest towards the back seat. His face is inches from mine as I lay back, almost completely horizontal by the time he releases the lever .
"Relax, Eden," He snaps, looking me over up and down. "You asked for a suggestion, now I'm giving you one."
Feeling his body loom over me, I wait for the sudden urge to run away, but my body loosens instead, desire unraveling the tightness that had been constricting the center of my chest for far too long.
What the hell is happening?
"Give me your hand," He demands, my head already shaking.
"I'm not-"
Grabbing my hand gently, he moves it toward my stomach, letting it settle above my waistband. He cups the side of my face, elbow resting on the center console for support.
"Some think pain helps the soul heal," He whispers. "Others like me think this is a better approach."
With his free hand, he urges my hand below my waistband. My heart beats out of my chest as my fingers graze my underwear, the feeling of his breath brushing my face only adding to the growing need between my legs.
"You committed a sin, you confessed, now recite your Hail Mary to me as part of your penance," He demands.
"What are you doing, Roman?' I question, his hand continuing to guide mine.
"You need relief," He whispers. "So touch yourself while telling me your prayer."
Startled by his words, I stop myself from pulling away, wondering if this is some cruel joke.
"I'm not-"
"Do it, or I will do it for you."
Feeling another wave of desire course through my center, I bite my bottom lip hard, feeling the blood seep into my mouth. Roman focuses on the red painting my lips. Reaching his free hand up, he uses his thumb to untuck my lip from between my teeth. My morals fade away as his hand and mine slip beneath my underwear and touch soft skin.
"Start here," He growls, grazing my clit with his fingers that are still wrapped around my own. My center drips with anticipation from the single touch.
His breath brushes the side of my face as he pulls his lips to my ear. My face becomes scolding hot from the touch.
"Now, say your prayer."
I try and rationalize what’s happening. I turn my head so I can meet his eyes and find his expression void of playfulness. Slickness coats my inner thighs, the need to feel his touch breaking all the resolve I have left.
"H-Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus-"
His hand guides my shaky fingers toward the sensitive bundle of nerves, exploring the area in small, circular motions. A breathless moan escapes me as his body inches closer to me.
"Just like that," He praises, looking over my bleeding lip. "Keep going."
"Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners-"
"You'll need all the prayers she can provide so long as you are with me-"
His words stop short as he pushes his fingers inside me. Another heady moan falls from my lips, the feel of him undeniably pleasurable. I clutch his flannel shirt as he slips in and out with ease, the sound of my wetness adding to my arousal. As he moves, so do I, focusing on my swollen clit as he continues to pump his fingers deeper and faster. I squeeze my eyes shut as I try to control the sounds threatening to escape from me. Something warm and wet brushes across my lips. My eyes shoot open as Roman licks my bloodied bottom lip clean.
"Finish your prayer while my fingers are buried inside you," He demands.
How the fuck am I going to do that?
How do I ever stand a chance to move past this?
Why do I not want to forget this?
"Now and at the hour of our death, a-amen-"
He moves faster, curling his fingers, touching a spot inside me that sends ripples of pleasure through my lower stomach. I spread my legs wider, feeling the brush of his knuckle at my entrance as he buries his fingers even deeper. He grabs my chin, getting me to focus on him.
"I want to hear it," He urges. "I want to hear your pleasure," He pushes, pumping in and out of me, demanding my release.
Tugging on his flannel to get him closer to me, I can’t help but let a soft cry of pleasure slip past my lips. My hips buck up into his touch. That night with him is the last thing on my mind.
Feeling his nose touch mine, I’m guided by lust as my hand reaches out to touch the impressive bulge between his legs, wanting to bring him the same pleasure I’m feeling now.
I gently graze the part of him straining against his pants, but he quickly grabs my wrist, slowly easing his fingers free from me.
"Lesson over," He whispers, putting my hand back in my lap. Speechless, I watch as he brings his glistening fingers coated in my wetness to his mouth.
He takes in every drop of me, letting his eyes close as he devours the taste. I remain awestruck, somewhat seduced by how erotically captivating I find him to be in this moment.
The cross pressed to my chest feels like it’s burning my skin as he lowers his hand away from his mouth. Feeling empty and needy, I consider grabbing his hand and putting it back where it was. A throbbing ache tells me this hunger for more of him won’t go away anytime soon.
Roman helps me get the car seat upright before creating some space between us. My cheeks are flush, my gaze catching on the large bulge still threatening to burst from his pants. A spark of satisfaction zaps through me knowing he was just as affected by this as I was.
"I-I."
"You're my altar server," He says, changing the subject as if he didn't just finger fuck me seconds ago. "You start your service hours tomorrow." He shamelessly readjusts the strain in his pants, keeping his eyes locked on mine the entire time.
"You just-"
"And I'll do it again. That’s the last time that blade is touching your skin," He seethes, something sinful creeping into my mind.
"You swore an oath to God-"
"I am no stranger to temptation, Eden," He says. "And while my devotion to God is unwavering, I fear you just might become my greatest sin."
Still trying to process everything that just happened, my body yearns to feel his touch again, needing more. The last thing on my mind is cutting. The craving to release myself in a different way awakens something hungry inside me I’ve never felt before. But it feels delicious and sinful, and I want to let it out to play with Roman.
"And if I refuse?" I question.
A smirk curls along his lips, his words send a wave of pleasure through me.
"I suppose that will make it more fun for me."
Turning toward me, he lowers his eyes. "I'm sure you know I can keep a secret?" He questions. "Because no one else other than me is touching you like that again."
Saying nothing else, he moves the 4Runner from where we were parked and drives towards my house. My center is still warm and throbbing with need, barely satiated.
For the first time in months, the desire for pleasure has outweighed the need for pain.
How the hell do I come back from this?
1 Corinthians 10:13: "No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it."