Covet Not (43 page)

LXXX

Jared paced outside Shula’s
door. He stopped to press his forehead to the door. He didn’t feel worthy. He
walked back down the stairs.

He wasn’t
prepared to see a naked Raphe when he stepped into the kitchen. Raphe turned
when he heard him. “I’m making Jude some eggs. And giving them a bit of time.
Did you want any?”

Jared shook
his head. “Thank you, though.”

Raphe
shrugged. He studied Jared for a moment. “Did she kick you out so soon?”

Jared
bristled, suddenly unfairly angry at the mouthy fucker who has protected his
wife from homegrown ignorance. “I was too scared she might.”

Raphe wanted
to piss him off a bit. It didn’t take a genius to know that there would be
grand scale groveling that would need to take place. But he’d forgotten the
world Jared was raised in. He was likely conflicted between what he knew and
his instincts fighting him the opposite way. He turned back to the eggs, and
spoke impassively with no judgement. “Go grovel. Make her believe you are all
but a shell of a man without her. Leave her with no doubt.” Raphe turned around
and looked at the sad man leaning against the wall next to the stairs. “Go
overwhelm her. It’s subtle domination. With words. With your fingers, your
mouth, your
throbbing
manh…oh fuck
that
. Go overwhelm her with
your cock. Then once you’ve done that, start over and do it again. But this
time, worship her.”

Jared was
sure he would never get used to such frankness. It bothered him a little. He
felt like it tainted the sanctity of their union, but then, every word of
advice, even the crude ones were said out of respect. And he was right. He
wanted to do all those things. He took a step back on the stairs. He didn’t
know how to thank him. He smiled. “Then what do I do after the worshiping?”

Raphe turned,
eyes wide and mouth open, a retort so sharp and impressive, Jared was sure he’d
be impressed and scandalized. “Do I have to cry?” Jared gave him a wide grin.
With teeth.

Raphe slammed
down the spatula. “Go!”

Jared
chuckled and made his way back upstairs. He was slightly ashamed that he’d let
fear drive him.

He walked to
her door, and that’s when he heard it.

He’d heard
Shula cry before. He’d seen it, and even caused it. But it was never ever
anything as devastating as this. She couldn’t catch her breath.

She was
trying to muffle them, but mostly unsuccessful. Her pain was completely
unacceptable.

The line
between domination and cruelty was nearly nonexistent for him. Especially after
his behavior in the woods, and his lack of control in San Antonio, even though
the latter wasn’t as bad.

But he’d
never just left her.

He put his
palm on the door, terrified. But he pushed it open.

“It's me.
Just pretend it's fine. Pretend it's all fine. Please, I need you right now. I
ache for you. I can't do this for much longer. Just please belong to me. Please
be mine. Please let me have you. Please, Shula, please.” His voice cracked and
he inhaled wetly.

Even in her
pain, she couldn't deny Jared.

She turned
onto her back as he crawled onto the bed, and lifted himself up and moved the
bedding to the side.

She grabbed
his face as she lifted to find his mouth, and he hissed at the pain, but
accepted her kiss gratefully, like he'd forgotten it was an option.

She felt the
bandage. “What happened?”

“Father,” he
said simply.

“Are you here
to get me, then? You didn’t contact me last night, and I was worried.
Apparently, I was right to worry.” She felt the edges of the bandage to see how
much it covered.

“If you want
to come home with me,” he whispered against her neck. He felt unaccountably
vulnerable. “Or I’ll stay here with you. If you don’t want to be rid of me.”

His hands
roamed over her, lifting her shirt and marveling as she pressed herself to his
hands. “
You're shrapnel. I'd
need a lobotomy or a fucking priest to be rid of you.”

He bit at her
mouth. “
Tell me to leave
then. Tell me you don't want me. Make me believe it. Tell me I'm pathetic. Call
me a coward. A fool. Give me all your anger. Your disappointment. Your hurt.
Please, make me take it all. This is me scraping my knees raw crawling back to
you.
To worship you.”

He held her
close, and he let her own her tears. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be strong. I just
didn’t want you to be scared.”

“I was never
afraid. I was lost. I didn’t know until just now.”

“You were
strong the day we were married.”

“My lover was
death that day. Until you were.” She pressed her face to his cheek.

“You believed
I was your lover that day?”

“And my
death.” She held tight, never wanting to let go.

LXXXI

Jared woke to
find the bed empty, and the bathroom floor covered in Shula’s hair.

He leaned
against the doorframe and bit his lip, trying to prevent the ridiculous grin
trying to take over his face.

He didn’t
know how infinite desire could be.

LXXXII

Artemis was
born on the full moon. Sophia didn’t believe in much of anything, but she felt
Selene might be watching.

She met Jacob
and Miriam, and their children. They would have a new baby soon as well.

Sophia
introduced them to Shula, Clara, and Raphe, but Miriam had stepped out in a
dash, leaving her husband to apologize.

No one else
seemed to notice. Artemis had center stage.

LXXXIII

“She would have you in a
woman's gown if she had her way. Like you are an invalid and not on the mend.
But we know better, don't we?” Mrs. Lionel had wheeled James into his bedroom
along with the new live-in nurse. They both were able to heft him onto his bed
before Mrs. Lionel excused her.

Mrs. Lionel
could handle all of it, but needed help moving him from his bed to his chair
and vice versa. She didn't mind handling the bedpans, and catheters were quick
and easy. She allowed the nurse to set him up a fresh IV line every morning.

“Your
daughter is bald as an eagle with the brightest blue eyes I've ever seen. She
is beautiful, and has taken to the breast much like you did as a baby. She has
an unfortunate name, but I imagine you'll fix it when you're well.” Mrs. Lionel
made short work of his black dress pants and polo shirt. She knew he would
prefer denim, but they were difficult for her to maneuver.

She went to
the bathroom and warmed a bowl of water until it was uncomfortable to touch
because she knew it would cool quickly. She added a drop or two of liquid soap
and dissolved it. Mrs. Lionel wanted to avoid the lather.

She walked
out and put it on the bedside table and quickly dispensed of James' underwear.
She arranged his flaccid penis to the side reverently with a stroke of her
thumb along the head. “Oh you're in there, all right. I felt you plump up
against my palm.” She reached for the washrag and dipped it into the water, and
pressed it to the underside of his penis. “You silly boy. Always ready,” she
chuckled as she washed his penis slowly and meticulously. “That's it, make it
grow for me, so I can get every last bit clean. And look how big you've
gotten!” She patted his thigh proudly. “But don't worry, you'll always be a boy
to me.  I wonder if you remember me washing you as a boy. You were very young,
and you loved it when I bathed you. Sometimes I wondered if you got so dirty on
purpose.” Mrs. Lionel sighed happily as she cleaned him while the water was
still warm.

She refreshed
the water and soap grabbed another rag.

LXXXIV

Lucidity was a confusing
concept. Because when James was lucid, his life was clear and a nightmare. He
had memories of rushing water, of rivers, and of baths where the water never
ran clean.

He’d never
gotten clean. And now he never would.

“Father may
come to visit soon.” Sophia was looking out the screen door. She looked back at
James knowing that his gaze would be sharp on her.

She didn’t
bother hiding her accent anymore. It was likely one he hadn’t heard before.

She made sure
his attention was on her before she continued. While she knew he was still
there, she knew that with the damage he sustained, he might check out for a bit
while she spoke. She would make sure she spoke slowly and clearly. “I’m trying
to decide on letting the boys kill you or keep you like this.” She laughed to
herself. “Who am I kidding? I’m in no hurry to bury you.” She walked over and
knelt down and rested her chin on his knee. “It’s a shame really. If you
weren’t so cruel, I could love you. Not that I’m a saint. Obviously.” She
smiled at him. Then frowned. “When Man rejects God, it shouldn’t be because he
wants to replace Him.” She pressed her forehead against him. “It scares me to
think that if Selene was found, alive and well, and having a tantrum in another
man’s bed, that I would overlook the rest of your brutalities.”

She raised
her head and met the eyes boring into her. “But it’s inconsequential, isn’t it?
Selene is dead. I’d ask why and even how, but neither matters. Men like you are
numerous, but I’ve eaten them for lunch for far less. I’m used to immediate
satisfaction when exacting justice, but you are quite different.”

She was sad
for a moment, knowing she went too far by having Artemis. But she did her best
to keep everyone safe. “With you, I’d met my match. My conscience, while
pliable, existed, and that’s where we part ways unfortunately. 

But for you
though, I’ll ignore my conscience and keep you around a little longer.

An End

Eleven months
later.

A
beginning.

Poison Pen threw the paper
into the fire. He had a choice. His little paper was everywhere and it was only
a matter of time before it came back to bite him. There wouldn’t be any proof,
he made sure of it, but even an accusation would be damning.

If he was
going to stay and still inform the citizens of Texas, he would have to be
beyond careful. His treason could affect those close to him. And was he willing
to sacrifice them for the greater good?

But, he would
be sacrificing them if he never put out another issue of
Texas Truth
.

Still, a part
of him still believed he should take his family and leave Texas, especially
after the news he just received out of Utopia, Texas.

The youth in
Texas were mobilizing. There were handwritten and typed messages nailed to
trees, taped inside public bathroom stalls, hidden inside library books, and
posted haphazardly on university and seminary grounds. People had stories to
tell, and it was all snowballing into real and justified fear.

He’d started
this to make people more aware. It was working. But the more people aware, the
more danger everyone was in. He didn’t want to encourage civil disobedience
when it likely would lead to death or imprisonment. People would need to know.
And at this moment, he was the only one who could tell it.

So he would
tell it.

If
you’d like to subscribe to Poison Pen’s underground news, email me at
[email protected]
and put
‘Poison’ in the title. He’s going to let you know what’s happening in Texas and
prepare us for
Out of Chaos
next year.

I
also have a
group on
Facebook
dedicated to this universe.