Page 6 of His to Keep
I nod slowly, though I don’t remember her mentioning anything being wrong with it. I can’t imagine whatwouldbe. The old Buick was Grandpa’s, and she never let so much as a tire fall into disrepair, treating it with the same reverence as she does everything he owned. With absolute care. As the stone house fades into the distance in the car’s side mirror, I’m more uneasy by the second.
“Where do you live?” I hope it’s not far from here, but he doesn’t respond. A smile shapes his colorless lips instead, the effect more chilling than kind, and I’m not entirely sure heheardme.
Wiping my sweaty palms against the fabric of my skirt, I exhale anxiously as we turn off the main road and venture down a narrower lane. It’s darker along here—the feathery willow trees replaced with colossal oaks. Their twisted, sharp branches hang low and block out the sunlight. My nails dig into the seat as Father Aaron speeds around bends. My stomach somersaults, and just as I think we might crash, he takes a sudden turn off the road and journeys along a bumpy dirt track.
Fifteen minutes later, we come to a long drive overcome by weeds and last winter’s fallen debris. Among the dark green foliage of a forest, a building hides. A rundown Victorian house stands tall, face battered and weatherworn, the paint murky gray and peeling. The windows are narrow, and every shutter is tightly closed. I can almost picture the ominous shadows looming inside as if they’re pulled to shield the true darkness lurking in its depths.
After parking near the rickety porch, Father Aaron cuts the engine and unbuckles his belt. While I know I’m meant to copy his actions, I shrink back into my seat, eyeing the unwelcome house nervously.
“Take your belt off, Ava.” Father Aaron’s voice coils the knot tighter inside of me. Knowing I’m being ridiculous, I unclasp my belt. As soon as I open the door, a gust of wind knocks me back. Almost as if in warning—
“Come along,” he calls, already by the porch.
“S-Sorry,” I clamber to move, shutting the door behind me. The steps groan beneath my shoes as I climb the stairs of the porch. Putting his hand on my shoulder, the chill from Father Aaron’s fingers seeps through my cardigan and shirt, and my body violently shudders.
The front door is already ajar, and darkness shrouds it. Every bone in my body goes rigid, and once again, I hesitate. “Gran’s inside?”
“Ofcourse.” His eyebrow rises sardonically, and I feel stupid for asking. But why didn’t Gran tell me? Why did she leave the porch light on?
Shoving me forward, he forces me to step over the threshold of the house. We enter a dimly lit hallway with dark wooden floors and deep red wall paneling enhanced with golden accents. The inside is unexpected and odd, given how worn the outside appears. To the right is a carpeted staircase, and opposite, a dominating antique cabinet. The only light source comes from a lone candle that dances frantically in the breeze from the open door. It’s uninviting and gloomy, and I want more than anything to leave.
But Father Aaron jabs me in the back to keep moving. As I stumble inside, I peer down at the black and white photographs as we pass the cabinet, freaked out by the gaunt, unsmiling faces that stare back at me.
“In here.” He guides me into a large room—a lounge. While it’s not untidy or dirty, it’s not pleasanteither. It has two black couches on opposite ends of the room, and a sizable black and red rug in the center opposite a cold marble fireplace.
Father Aaron takes a seat on one of the couches, and instead of offering me to sit like one might a guest, he only stares in a way that makes me uncomfortable.
“Where’s Gran?”
My scalp prickles with unease when he doesn’t say anything right away. Why isn’t he telling Gran that I’m here?
“Do you want to know something, Ava?” he pierces the silence, cold eyes locked with mine. “Do you know lying is a sin?”
He lectures on the subject every Sunday—sins, avarice, and deception. “Yes, but I didn’t—”
“Lies are sins.” His eyes darken to a thundery shade of blue. “The Lord detests lying lips, but he delights in those who are truthful. And you have not been telling the truth, have you?” Tension hangs in the air, and I take a step back. What is he talking about?
“Can I see Gran now?” My legs tremble. “Please, I want to see her.”
He waves his hand, his top lip curling with annoyance. “Your Grandmother isn’t here.”
“What?” My heart slams painfully against my ribcage as I try to grasp onto what he’s saying. “But you said—”
“She’s not.”My head whirls. He lied?Why would he lie?
At that moment, two figures appear in the doorway. I turn quickly, hoping it’s Gran and Father Aaron’s joking, but a strange man and woman stand there instead.The woman is older, and I can’t help noticing how thin and pale she is beneath a black dress that hangs off her frame. The man is the same. Tall and skinny with a haggard, angular face, dark eyes glinting beneath stringy brown hair.
“This is Penny and John,” Father Aaron introduces, but I’m no longer listening. The thumps of my heart are too loud. “My family.”
“I-I need to go home.” I’m hyperventilating as the walls close in on me. These strangers are too. They slowly walk over to me while Father Aaron sits calmly, watching with a smirk I’ve never seen him wear before.
“Don’t fear, Ava. This is Divine Providence. You are where you’re meant to be.”
“No!” I scream when John grabs my arm. I’m pushed with force back into the hallway and ruthlessly dragged toward the staircase. The back of my throat seizes up, splitting open as I scream. Trying to hit, bite, and scratch the man, nothing I do delivers enough damage to free myself. He’s too strong and able to manipulate whatever I might do next.
“Get off me!” Pulling against him, I’m surprised when I do break free. But I lose my balance and drop to the floor, my hands and knees slamming into the wood. My eyes sting with tears as pain shoots up my thighs from my kneecaps.
“Pick her up,” Father Aaron sneers from behind, and I’m hauled to my feet.