Page 28 of Acts of Contrition
He nods and pulls something from his pocket, holding it out to me.
I take it, eyes widening. It’s Rick’s driver’s license, and it is covered in barely dried blood.
"Yes,” Thomas answers, his voice a deep rasp. “I only wear black when I need to hide the bloodstains." His intense green eyes stare down at me and it’s like I can read his mind.
He hasn’t looked at me sexually at all since he brought me down here, even when he got hard after tormenting me. Not even when he came on me. Now, it’s different. A part of me wants to cry, knowing the one thing that set him apart from everyone else I ever had to deal with, is now gone.
But he surprises me again as he turns away, walking to the door. As he opens it, he says, “Get some sleep. Sister Lisa will be in tomorrow to see you.”
I can barely sleep. My mind keeps whirling, wondering what the fuck happened. Does this ID mean he killed my bastard landlord? What will happen to the building now? The Thompsons can’t afford to move.
Eventually I drift off, only to be woken when my door opens.
The beautiful woman I used to see walking with Thomas when I was on the streets enters, followed by another woman, a bit older, with red hair. The woman I recall seeing has a brown paper shopping bag, while the other has a recyclable takeout tray that smells good.
“Good morning, did we wake you?” the pretty woman chirps. Her smile gives me the creeps. It’s plastic, as if her real expression would show not happiness, but some sort of malice.
“I, um, yes it’s okay,” I mumble, rubbing sleep from my eyes. “Can … may I use the bathroom?”
“Of course.” The woman with the red hair gestures to the bathroom and I rush in there.
No one has been to see me since Thomas brought me here. I know these two must be with this fucked up church too, but why are they here? I pee and brush my hair, wondering why I feel nothing except mild curiosity.
Maybe because it’s unlikely you’re going to be raped?
I sigh at my subconscious, but she’s right.
Exiting back into the main room of the basement, I see another man walk down the stairs, this one with a thick, dark beard, also wearing mostly white. In fact, only Thomas usually wears dark trousers it seems. Every time I saw any of them in public, the darkest color they wore was beige. Is there a reason, or is he a rebel?
The new man places a small end table with an empty cabinet beneath it next to my bed. He nods to the two women, calling the redhead, “Mother.” He doesn’t look at me. Is he not supposed to? Because I belong to Thomas? Or because I’m some Godforsaken heathen?
“I don’t believe we have formally met,” the one called “Mother” says, holding a hand out to me. “My name is Catherine, I am Father Oliver’s wife. Once you’re indoctrinated into the church completely, you may call me Mother. For now, Catherine will do.” She looks me up and down with an approving smile. “You’re beautiful; God and Thomas made an excellent choice.”
“It would’ve been nice if I got a choice,” I say before I can stop myself.
The pretty woman with the long brown hair and blue eyes glares at me. “The Divine Plan is beyond our wants and needs. I see Thomas still needs to work hard on you. You don’t even deserve any of this.”
“Sister Lisa,” Catherine scolds quietly. She continues to me, “Brother Thomas asked Lisa and I to bring you something to eat from outside, as a celebration of sorts, that one of the men forcing you to sin is out of the picture.”
She hands me the takeout tray; it’s from a local café I always wanted to try but could never afford.
“And these.” Lisa places the bag on the floor at my feet, as if I am not worthy of handing it to directly.
“May I look inside?” I ask, more interested in the bag than the food.
“Yes, but if what Lisa and I saw in your apartment is anything to go by, please ensure your food doesn’t go cold as you sort through these.” Catherine’s smile is sweet.
I peek in the bag and want to sob.
Books. Brand new books!
Some of them I had in my apartment, some I never read before.
Books!
Thomas told them to bring me books?
“You’re gonna have to forgive me but … I thought places like this didn’t like women to be well-read,” I say.
