31. Wedding Bells
Wedding Bells
Isla
I've dreamt of my wedding day no less than a million times.
Every single time, no matter who I was meeting at the end of the aisle, a few things were always the exact same.
Dress? Barely there. Just a cascade of thick lace with the little straps falling off my shoulders.
The music would only be the seagulls and the rush of the ocean waves coming in and out. In the distance, as we said our vows, the sun would be setting on the skyline, casting brilliant shades of orange and pink across every guest, the dewy warmth of late summer making everyone feel just a littlefreer, just a little more at one with the world around them as we celebrate finding love in a worldfullof hatred.
Whether the person across from me, holding my hands delicately, was a man, a woman, neither or both, those elements always remained the same.
The last one, the one I still can't bear to accept isn't happening, is the glittering presence of Belissenda.
No matter who wasin front ofme, she was always supposed to be beside me. We were supposed to have conjoined bachelorette parties because, obviously ,we'd be getting married around the same time.
For the last ten years, we'd been planning the rest of our lives,likewe knew from thesecondwe met that our futures were somehow entwined.Ifshewere anyone else, I would havethought instantly thatwe belonged together.
AndI guess, in a sense, we do.
But even from the first time we accidentally stumbled into each other in a nasty bar bathroom, we've been sisters. Connecteddownto our very souls, the fiber of our beings designed side by side in the life before this, knowing we'd find each other when it was time.
And yet...
She's not fucking here.
Instead, I'm surrounded by strangers; the only familiar faces those whose features are vaguely reflected in my own face.
My bridesmaids in their deep blue dresses, the navy and yellow florals surrounding us, coating the world in a picture the furthest from my mind imaginable.
It's not that it's ugly by any means; of course, it isn't. Carmen wouldn't allow her daughter's wedding to be anything but a beautiful spectacle. Even now, she sits on the front row, dabbing at nonexistent tears in her glittering gown that's closer to white than yellow.
Well, it doesn't matter anyway. You can't wear white, can you?
If this wedding was anything more than a sham, she wouldn't be here in the first place, much less making comments during dress shopping about what colors are appropriate.
Anything but white , she told the stylist. Even when he met my eyes with sympathy and disbelief, the most I could conjure was an eye roll. I haven't cared about Carmen's opinion since I was a teenager, but somehow, her words still sting that part of me that wishes my mom was like everyone else's.
Across from me, his face red from the freezing wind, Silas seems as convinced by this charade as I feel, looking at me with an expression that can only be amusement. His black tux stands out against the deep blue ones standing beside him, his bloodshot eyes traveling over my form like he's already considering all the ways he could defile it.
Over my dead fucking body.
If I'm lucky, this scrawny bitch will never even get a chance to get his hands on my body. But here I am, signing up to be his wife and hoping that the half-assed plan I threw together will somehow be enough to keep me safe from his advances.
Over the last few weeks, it's been easy enough to avoid his wandering hands.
Not before the wedding night, my father had told him. Not that anyone was under the impression I was entering into this marriage as a virginal bride. I'm pretty sure I was still dripping with Eamon's cum when I texted Carmen that I was ready to repent and do what God wanted me to do.
If I'mbeinghonest with myself, I was always going to find a way to get here. Once Eamon told me what kind of fate awaited women like me in the family, I knew I couldn't sleep until I found this farmland.I kept the knowledge in the back of my head, waiting for a momentI coulduse it and meetbothEamon's and my goals.
But after Al told me that they'd still been watching Bel, after everything they'd already put her through, there was no stopping me. This is where I was always meant to be. Head to head with a piece of shit who would be only too happy to break me like a prized horse. Something my parents and my past betrotheds had never been able to do. But he's got another thing coming if he thinks I'm as breakable as every other woman he's victimized.
If anything, he should be afraid of me.
And soon enough, he will be.
But, for now, I'll stand, cheeks fucking burning in the frigid cold of this no man's land, my feet squished into these boots as a pastor drones on about the promise of a holy matrimony, of the peace in finding your other half.
I can't bring myself to think of my real other half. Of the life with him I might never be able to live if my plan doesn't work out perfectly. I never told him as much, but he has to know that he is my reason for existing.
His sweet, loving and soft face flashesin my mind, those bright white straight teeth and boyish grin. This suicide mission might very well be the last thing I do; I can't imagine the Sanctum takes lightly to their own kind turning on them, but if it means he completes the mission he started decades ago, I'll happily die with that.
For the last century, Eamon has set aside his own needs and wants, locking away everythingthat heis to be what others need him to be.
When he finally told me the story of Arthur, everything suddenly made sense.His desperate need to protect the innocent no matter the cost, the drive to cleave the Sanctum's influence from this world... how could I not fight for him the way he's fought for so many others?
If I could close my eyes and imagine this moment differently, there's no doubt he'd be the person standing across from me, his devilish smirk as he looks at me, a grin full of the knowledge of what kind of debauchery we'd get up to the moment he doesn't have an audience.
Looking at the bloodshot, dully brown eyes looking at me hungrily, I escape into my mind, robotically repeating the words the priest had practiced with me earlier. My chest aches, giving these hollow vows to a man who could never be worthy of them while I know the man who is must be going crazy searching for me.
My family kept me from almost every form of communication with the outside world, only letting me post the pictures on Instagram to give Carmen the ammunition to brag in her social clubs. I couldn't even text Bel—due to herbadinfluence and enabling my sin.Ihad to just hope thatshe or one of her boys would stumble across it . The most important person for the last decade of my life, and they had her reduced to nothing more than a relic of my sordid past, like she isn't the person who stepped into the role of being my only family when none of these assholes could.
If I know Bel, and obviously I do, she has to be spiraling.I can only hope that Fritz and Cas aredoing their jobs of keeping her in line whilealsoensuring Eamon knows that something is going on.There was no point in searching for his social media, because the big dumb animal has none. And if I were caught privately messaging another man... I shudder to think of the kinds of rituals I might be subjected to for my wedding ceremony.
"And by the power invested in me by the one and only, the light and the way, the lord God Christ, I pronounce you husband and wife," the pastor finally says.
Silas reaches for me, one hand clawing into my neck while the other wraps around my waist, his sweaty—even in this weather— palms keeping me captivewhilehis greasy lips press against mine.
The crowd around us cheers, somewhere between 50-100 unfamiliar voices radiating around me as I finally fulfill my psycho grandfather's wishes. Just a little bit longer now.
I know what awaits me.
Over the last few weeks, they've gently broached the topic of my responsibility of bearing children. I'm not on birth control, I've told them— which is true. I have no need for it— alsotrue, just not for the reason they believe.
Silas's side of the aisle jeers, their objectification clear with every passing second, while my side continues the charade.If I weren't locked into the character I need to play, I'd be screaming at every motherfucker in this crowd that dares speak about me likemy duty is tobe the sexual receptacle for the scrawny piece of shit in front of me.But, as it is, I'mstuck being passive for justalittle whilelonger.
Walking back down the aisle with a false grin anda ridiculously largebouquet in hand, I stop, giving Carmen a light kiss on the cheek, followed by my father as I continue on down the aisle, my whole family cheering for the prodigal daughter brought back into the fold and shown the light.
Cousinsand auntsand uncles bestow kisses upon my brow, not expecting me to stay because our honeymoon is several hours travel away, and they'd hate to keep us from consummating our holy nuptials.
A silent groan nearly escapes me when my grandma chastely kisses my brow, blessing me to be fertile and him virile. I gag at the thought of his spend getting anywhere near my body and shake it down, knowing the end of this goddamn charade is coming quickly, whether by Eamon's actions or my own.
The ride into theisolation of the cabinis silent, the rumble of our Volvo beneath us the only sound as we drift deeper into the BFE of the snowy mountains around us.
Thankfully, Silas knows better than tomake conversationwith me, occasionally humming along to the disc stuck in the car. Ihaven't a cluewhat it is, but the same 12 songs play on repeat at least three times before I lose my mind, taking the disc from the drive and throwing it into the back seat, causing him to look at me with an annoyed sneer.
Eamon would have thrown it out the window. He would understand the annoyance that drove me to this point. He'd even laugh about it, revel in the reaction such a silly thing gave me before teasing me and playing something equally obnoxious.
The world passes by us in pitch black, the only color for hours coming from the radio. Every time Silas turns the radio up, I respond by turning it back down, not willing to listen to his fucking EDM nightmare fuel music.
All too soon, we come up on a cabin.
My heart starts pounding behind my ribcage.
I can't guarantee that the other women like me are here, but there'sa crawling in my skin, a coldness within my blood that tells me I'm exactly where I'm meant to be as Silas unloads our bags, trudging through the tightly packed snow towards the building that would be my prison.
Dropping our bags at the front door, he uses his fingerprints on a scanner, and I distantly wonder if the scanner needs blood pumping through those fingers for it to work or if it's a digital print reader only.
He whistles a merry tune as the door opens, and every light in the little cabin comes to life. Nausea fills my stomach as I grab my single suitcase and follow him into the house.
This is what I'm here for, and I can't back down now.Hemight try to play charming, do it right the first timehetakes liberties with my body, but I already know what kind of end greets me in these four walls if Eamon doesn't get the convoluted message I sent him.
Silas places his bags on the tattered brown couch, the leather kicking up dust as he sets his hideous velour suitcases on it. His eyes find mine, and I can only hope they read as impassive and not the bone-deep terror Ireally feel beingtrapped out in the middle of nowhere with this man.
With every step he takes toward me, my instincts beg me to flee. But where would I go? This is the end of the line. Either I die here, in my family's home, surrendering to what they always planned for me, or I fight back and hope this asshole isn't as strong as me.
I wrack my brain, wishing Eamon told me anything about his family, but the name doesn't even register. He must not bevery important, which isexactlywhy they'd set him up with me. My bloodline is vital. His is not. He's just a warm body they know won't be afraid of getting rough with me if I fight back.
"There's no need to make this any harder," hefinallytells me, my fear at his approaching form becoming clear. "This marriage can't be considered real until it's been consummated."
I can't help it. A laugh bubbles out of my throat. "Real?" I ask him, "You have coke and lipstick smeared across your collar. Don't preach to me about our marriage being real."
"Well, I don't know about you, wife, " him using the word makes me nauseous. "but I went to confession just before we shared our vows. I am perfectly pure and ready to make my new bride mine."
Not a single oneof our family members followed us out here to the honeymoon cabin, but I'mnot dumb enough to believe that he doesn't have backup ready to corral me should I fight against his authority as my new husband.
"I'm just really not in the mood," I aim for nonchalance rather than disgust, but I know I've fallen short when his lip starts to curl, his red eyes narrowingat me. "So exhausted after a big day, you know."
"You're my bride," he tells me. "Whether you're in the mood or not, you were promised to me, and I intend to take what's mine."
Fear clogs my throat, but this reaction is what I'm here for. If he can't control me on his own—which obviously this little pussy can't— he's going to have to take me down to where they keep the rest of the women like me.
Silas takes a step toward me, and against my will, my eyes start to water. I know that I'll survive whatever punishment he has in store for me, but survivalafter that kind of pain isn't something I would wish on anyone else. I'm alone in a way I've never been before, withmiles of darkness between me and the nearest person who might help.
And yet, I feel a peace I've never felt before.
Eamon has to be here somewhere. Maybe it's wishful thinking; it wouldn't be the first time I prayed for someone to save me from this goddamned family. But I can feel it, deep in my stomach. He's here somewhere. Waiting for the right moment. He knows me inside and out, just as I know him. And he knows I wouldn't put us both in this position unless it meant countless others could be freed from the horror of this place.
With another heavy step, Silas' hands deceptively cradle my jaw, the sensation of his clammy skin on mine making me sick. As he leans in for a kiss, instinct pulls me back, grimacing from his proximity.
The kind mask he's worn up until this point threatens to slip, "Wife," he spits the word, the toxicity of it poisoning us both. "We've made vows. I think it's time you lived up to your side of the bargain."
Revulsion, visceral and instinctual, pulls me away from his grip as he tries to keep his hands firmly planted on me. My hatred of his touch doesn't give him any pause. Quite the opposite, as his fingers dig painfully into my skin as he drags me against him.
A reflection of red out in the snow brings me the first touch of peace I've felt in weeks. I watch those eyes, praying for an inkling of recognition, but they never move. Never so much as blink as I watch them in the night. Defeat heavies my bones as I realize whatever red lights I see out there couldn'tpossiblybe what I want them to be.
Maybe they're an owl, or a fucking rat for all I know. But if they were the person I need them to be,surelyhe would have made himself known by now. I close my eyes and send out a signal, knowing it's probably futile, and I'm trying to communicate with a woodland creature. But if I don't do this beforeI disappearinto the abyss Silas is trying to drag me towards, I'll never forgive myself. Nothing matters except me, right now, fighting tooth and nail to give the women I know we'll find soon an escape from this pain.
With all of his strength, Silas knocks us into a table with a globe attached to it, jostling us both. No matter how wildly I fight against him, he still retains strength as he pulls me closer to the bookshelf against the wall.My gaze searches the back windows that open up to the vast forest behind us again, hoping tomaybecatch one last glimpse of those red lights to pretend it's the man I've been waiting to come save me for thelastmonth.
For the last decade, if I'm being honest with myself.
But the lights are gone.
If Eamon ever planned on coming to find me after I left him alone in that hotel room, he's too late now.
A clanking and hollow ring fills the cabin, freezing Silas and I both in our steps.