Chapter 6 Scarlett #2
I remember the first time I had seen him do it.
I had been lashed afterwards for looking at his face when it happened, but I had been too curious.
He shook like a leaf in the wind, made horrible sounds.
His face was always bright red and scrunched, like he was taking a poop.
I didn’t like the way it looked, but it was supposed to be nice for them or why else do it over and over again?
I was absolutely sure now that Azrael was young. Younger than Thomas, younger than a lot of the men that watched me in the Back Hall, I was sure of it.
Younger meant younger hands. It had to be better than the old, wrinkly, dry hands of the Leaders. They always scratched and bruised, but young hands? I bet they were soft. I bet his skin would slide against mine rather than catch. Maybe the bruises he left on me wouldn’t be as deep.
I stared at my own white shoes, tightly pressed together, my blue tights seen between the gap between my pencil skirt and the tops of my shoes.
I hated pencil skirts.
If I had it my way, I would wear a skirt that barely covered my butt.
I imagined having a knife strapped to the outside of my right thigh, one I could use to stab anyone who ever looked at me again.
I wouldn’t look pretty. I would look deadly.
I would be guided by the rage I should have felt.
I would be…I would be the snake in the garden.
But my biggest fear with that little thought was that, in the end, I would cower away from their gazes. How could I find the strength when I felt nothing at all?
I didn’t feel any pain or anger. I didn’t feel happiness or sadness. I felt nothing.
Just how they liked it.
When the sermon was over, Thomas stood and started for the back door. I followed one step behind only to stop abruptly when those black shoes came into view.
My heart did something I didn’t recognize this time around.
“What’s behind those doors?” Azrael asked, his voice and scent washing over me slowly. Like cold syrup over hot pancakes.
He should have already known what happened in the Back Hall, this must have just been a test. To see if Thomas would fold to any member or if he would follow all the rules like he was supposed to.
Thomas was quiet for quite some time before he spoke. “You should speak to my father if you want that information,” he explained. “You haven’t been here long. 52 Sundays a year and you’ve attended less than half.”
“12 to be exact,” I wanted to say.
“12 to be exact,” he said coolly. “Is there an amount I should attend before I become a part of this congregation?”
My heart did that strange thing again, skipping, as if it was suddenly a ticking clock, and I found myself, for the first time in a long time, tempted to break a rule. I wanted to look up with my eyes open.
I wanted to look up more than I wanted to breathe.
How did he know I would say that? Could he read my mind?
“Pick me,” I thought before I could stop myself.
“I can make you happy. I’ll be your forever Favorite.
” His sea was one I wanted to drown in. Even if he was worse than the others.
Even if he was more than cruel. If I drowned in the sea that was Azrael Thorin while his eyes burned into my skin, never to be looked at by Thomas or the Leaders again, I would gratefully inhale the salty water, even if I was damned to Hell for doing it.
“If you want to be a Leader, Azrael, prove that you are Leader worthy,” Thomas said coldly.
“We don’t allow just anyone to stand before our church, let alone some newcomer who has only deigned to show his face less than half of the Sundays in a year.
And just know that speaking to him rather than waiting for him to come to you will look bad on you. ”
He was right. Whenever Pastor Masters wanted to bring someone onto the Leader team, he confronted them about it.
I know because he and Thomas spoke openly about it in front of me.
The pros and cons. I knew a lot of their secrets.
I was invisible to them. Invisible to the world until I was wearing something they liked.
That’s why I needed Azrael to see me in less clothing because then he would see me, he would want me. Just like the others.
Thomas clicked his tongue, refusing to allow Azrael to respond, and started leading me away only for us to stop again.
Azrael’s feet were awfully close to Thomas’ now. What was going on? I wanted to see. I wanted to know.
“Don’t make an enemy out of me,” he hummed in a sing-song voice that made my chest fill. “You won’t like where that leads.”
Thomas must have been terrified because he didn’t answer right away. His legs moved strangely, as if he were adjusting himself, and I counted four entire Mississippi’s before he finally stepped up to Azrael. “Talk to him,” he ordered him, enunciating every word.
Thomas grabbed my arm and started dragging me away without another word.
I looked back at Azrael’s feet. I couldn’t help it.
His toes were turned towards us. He was watching us. Why wouldn’t he? It was a strange interaction, one meant to get under Thomas’ skin, for what? To see if he would crack?
Why was Azrael able to affect him that much after only attending for such a short time?
It was curious.
I foresaw a meeting with Pastor Masters in our near future.
“Look up.” I heard the whisper like a bird’s song through the raging sea. “Look up.” An order.
But I couldn’t. Didn’t the sea know? Much worse was out there than him. Much worse. The sea couldn’t destroy land. It would never have the strength.
~ ~ ~
We waited in Pastor Masters office for a while before the door finally opened.
“Thomas, the Leaders have become impatient.”
“I needed to speak with you first,” he replied, standing.
Because he didn’t need to deal with what they did when they became impatient. I could deal with the bruises though. Right now, I was more interested to know why we were here. I assumed it was because of our new member.
I remained where I was, standing in the corner. I wasn’t allowed to sit down, but I didn’t foresee this being a long conversation either.
“About what?”
“Azrael wants to speak with you about becoming a Leader and I don’t think you should allow him that access.”
“Because you’re threatened?”
“Because he seems a little less than reliable.”
The sound of Pastor Masters’ chair met my ears. “Azrael is exactly what we need in this church,” he responded after a pause of two Mississippi’s. “Perhaps it would do the other Leaders well to know that there are willing younger participants out there who are just as dedicated to God as we are.”
“Father—”
“The young ones are more willing to shift their perspectives,” he interrupted. “I’m going to speak with him, hear what he truly has to offer. I make no promises either way, but if he is willing to be more…dedicated then I see no reason why we can’t move him up.”
They were going to make him a permanent member. First a member of the congregation, then a Pillar, and maybe after that a Leader.
Eventually, it would be required of him to get a Favorite, and if he wasn’t sent here by the Elders, which was what I was starting to suspect with how he taunted Thomas, then he wouldn’t have the pull to choose me.
Despite the fact that I had felt no hope that I would get a small break from Thomas before we were to be married, I did feel a little like the cage door was being locked shut.
Nobody would ever be powerful enough to request me as their Favorite and win against him. I would only ever be his Favorite, his betrothed, his to share.
Forever.