“Annabel, wait.” She paused as I pushed from my seat and walked toward her, sipping my orange juice as I approached her. “We need to clear something up.”
Her eyebrows pulled together, and I knew her mind was replaying her walking into my bathroom, because her cheeks flushed and her gaze fell.
“What I meant to say was change your fucking clothes now.” I tilted the glass toward her, and she shrieked as the cold liquid soaked through her shirt onto her skin.
“You son of a bitch!”
Thirty minutes later, Annie came from her room in a sensible white button-up blouse and black pencil skirt. Her hair was curled perfectly down her back, and there were no traces of the bruise on her face.
We drove my car, a black 300S, to the church. It was just Annie and me. Amanda wasn’t very religious, and I preferred this time to be just the two of us. Church in the South was very much a social event, and our presence was always required to represent the Blakelys.
Annie’s fingers ran over the leather cover of her Bible as she stared out the window, watching the world going by, determined to give me the silent treatment. I reached up and turned down the volume of the radio.
“You want to talk about the elephant in the room?” I asked. She raised an eyebrow as her gaze fell to my lap.
“I’d hardly compare you to an elephant,” she deadpanned.
I laughed as I shook my head. “Now you’re just being cruel.”
“I learned from the master.” She blushed and turned her gaze back to her window as I turned the radio back up. We drove a few more blocks before turning into Holy Trinity’s gravel parking lot. I put the car in park and turned to Annie, who was still lost in thought.
“Hey.” I touched her leg, and she jumped. “You all right?”
“Yeah.” She tucked her hair behind her ear with a nervous smile. “I still don’t really like these places.” She shrugged, and I smiled sadly at her.
“This is a long way from the commune.”
Her eyes searched mine before she nodded.
“Good girl. Let’s go.” I got out of the car and rounded the front of the vehicle, pulling open Annie’s door. I held out my hand, and she slid her fingers against mine as I pulled her to her feet.
I put my hand on the small of her back as I guided her toward the door. We were greeted warmly by everyone we passed. Inside, the church was small but air-conditioned and well maintained. I preferred this to the megachurches you see on television. This was more personal, hands-on, although not to the degree I was used to.
Annie and I slid into the back pew as she clutched her Bible on her lap. “You forgot your book.”
“Never.” I tapped my finger on the side of my head and winked. She shook her head and suppressed a giggle as the other members found their seats. I cleared my throat to keep myself from laughing as I nodded hello to Shelly Kline. She’d had her eye on me for a year, and it took everything I had to avoid her advances.
“She likes you,” Annie whispered a little too loudly, and Ms. Baker turned around to give us a disapproving glare.
“She’s not my type.”
The service was short and to the point. The preacher spoke about sin and redemption. Before I knew it, we were back on the road speeding toward home.
“Do you believe all that?” Annie asked, and her gaze cut to me.
“Believe what?” I asked, my eyes focused on the road ahead.
“That sins can just be wiped away? That you can do anything you want, and there are no real consequences as long as you ask for forgiveness?”
There was a pregnant pause as I thought over her question. Was she asking for herself? Was she contemplating committing a sin, or was this about acts committed against her? “Some things are unforgivable, little one.”
Her eyes narrowed, and I felt her gaze burning into me. “Do you still…believe in God?”
I looked over at her angelic face, the innocence still lurking beneath her toughened outer shell. “Yes.” I reached for the radio and turned up the volume to end our conversation.
“She’s the one, Colin. She’s the one who came to me in my vision.” Taylor was wildly animated as he dug through the pile of papers on his desk, searching for something.
“You say that about all the new girls.” I tried not to sound bored, but this conversation was getting redundant, and I was growing tired of our monotonous routine. Taylor would bring a new family into our church and force them to live by his standards, only to molest and abuse their children.
“This one is a pretty little thing. You’ll like her. Her name is Annabel.”
He spent years trying to mold me into him, but he only succeeded in wearing away at my conscience until sick and twisted perversions were the only thing that made me feel at all. It didn’t matter to me in whose name I acted.