Chapter Fourteen
Zedediah
Ilook over at Cat before service starts. She smiles, lowering her head, but I am still able to see the deep dent in the middle of her cheek. Who knew I had a thing for dimples? Watching her reaction makes my stomach do a somersault. It doesn’t matter that we’re not touching, her heat bleeds through the fabric between us, into my skin, into my veins. My jaw ticks. I don’t want anyone to look at her. Not like I do. The more I know her, the more I know she’s mine.
Chapel is silent except for the low murmur of Fenris’ voice echoing against the tall wooden beams lined up and down the auditorium. Judd and Beth walk toward the pulpit when they’re summoned, like lambs to the slaughter.
Her head is lowered, so Judd guides her to the spot beside him. Fenris’ eyes scan the congregation before continuing. “I come before you with a message given to me during prayer. God has made his will known to me.” He grins as he walks around the pulpit taking his steps in stride, moving down to where they stand. He places his hand on Judd’s shoulder and gives it a light squeeze. “Judd and Beth are meant to be together. Their path,their faith, and their hearts are intertwined in a way that only he can ordain.”
He pauses before walking over to Beth. I can tell by the lack of movement in her chest, she’s holding her breath. She forces a smile, but it’s glassy. Her stare reminds me of a deer staring down a rifle, meanwhile Judd looks like he’s won a prize. Fenris takes her hand, lowering his gaze to meet hers before speaking. “It is not for us to question his plan but to trust in it.”
He settles beside her. “I know this is as much a surprise to them, to everyone in this room, including me. But when god speaks, we are demanded to listen.”
He adjusts his stance again, angling his attention back toward the couple. “So, I say to you both, as god’s messenger and leader of our fellowships flock, god has called you to walk together in this journey as husband and wife.”
Light murmurs and celebratory claps erupt as I look at Catarina out of the corner of my eye. She’s quiet, like always, but I don’t need her to talk to tell me she’s uncomfortable. I see it in the way she’s squirming, her fingers are fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. So much so she’s unraveled a few threads.
Her body leans into mine so close I can smell her shampoo. Her voice is barely above a whisper. “Why?”
“God sent Fenris a messenger pigeon—” She cuts her eyes at me, not at all amused with my sense of humor. I clear my throat. “Because he wants it that way.”
She waits, and I know she’s wanting more. I nod toward the pulpit, signaling her to face forward so no one sees us speaking. “It’s about control, like everything else. Keeps everyone in line.” Cat’s eyebrows pinch together.
“The man in the front row, blue shirt, that’s Barrett. His daughter married Derek. It was a test to see if Barrett could control him.”
I hear her ask, barely above a whisper, “And?”
“Barrett sits in the front row now, and Derek is missing a finger.” I see her wide eyes when she turns her head, staring at me.
“What about them?” She nods in Luke and Letha’s direction. I guess Letha never found out the reason her husband had a small injury last week. I wasn’t sure if Cat had met Letha earlier this week. The women threw her a baby shower since she’s expecting their first child.
“When a girl’s stubborn, Fenris makes an example of her. Marrying her off to someone who’ll break her. Keep her in line.”
Fenris’ voice raises. “His blessing is upon them. Nothing is capable of severing what he has ordained!”
“She looks young.” Her fingers curl into a fist, gripping the lip of the pew. Her small knuckles are white tipped, and I don’t think she even realizes what she’s doing.
“Because she is.”
“How old is she?” she asks.
“Nineteen, I think.” The older the girls, the less desirable. Although, they’re all married by their twenty-first birthday. I never realized how confusing this could be, until now. She clenches her jaw before I see her throat bob as she swallows. Hard.
“So, my age.” Her voice is soft, but it feels like a hard punch to the chest. She turns around, facing the pulpit.
The words knock the air out of my lungs. I knew that, but, fuck. It registers in a completely different way now. I feel my skin lose all of its warmth as a chill courses through me. Fenris’ voice is just noise, barely audible over the pounding in my ears. She’s quiet for the remainder of the service. Which unsurprisingly, is about wives submitting to their husbands and husbands submitting to those god has commanded to lead, meaning himself. My mind flashes. Like someone pushed playon an old reel. The one from years ago that I’ve tried my hardest to bury.
I’m back in this auditorium, surrounded by the same congregation, breathing in the same stale air. But it’s my name bouncing across the wooden beams.
His words are a noose that is quickly tightening around my neck. I don’t move at first, thinking maybe I’ve misheard him. Then I feel her hand slipping into mine, our fingers locking together. I don’t realize the weight of what’s happening at first.
My feet falter, and I’m barely able to pull myself up to stand. The room begins to expand. It looks like it’s breathing, widening with every step I take. The old burgundy pews, the faces watching, the pulpit Fenris is standing behind. It all distorts like mirrors in a funhouse. His words barely register. “God has spoken. This union is his will, blessed are those who submit to his path to holiness.”
My father’s words were exactly the same then. But I didn’t feel holy. I felt sick. Jonah’s eyes found mine through the crowd, and the air that was filling my lungs, left in one sharp blow. The look on his face is burned into my memory. His jaw locked so tight it looked like it might crack. But his eyes are what haunt my dreams. The eyes that used to laugh when I couldn’t, were fixed on me like I’d driven the knife in myself, killing him.
Looking back, it’s because I had. I just didn’t know it.
Jonah, Lucy, and I were always close. We found solace in each other because the world we lived in offered so little. That meant different things for the three of us. I didn’t love Lucy the way Jonah did.
