JACOB
Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed – not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence – continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling. Philippians 2:12
I woke the next morning by throwing myself out of bed. At first I thought it was guilt for what I’d done that abruptly pushed me from deep sleep into a seated position, but then a sound outside drew my attention, a light tapping that forced my bleary eyes to the window to peer out into the haze of the first light of morning sun.
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I squinted against the darkness still fighting the dawn, but with sleep weary eyes, seeing that clearly in the distance was impossible.
Throwing the blankets off, I pushed my legs over the side of the bed, shuffling just enough to press my bare feet to the cold wood floor. I scrubbed my hands over my face, pulling my palms down for my eyes to catch sight of the crucifix I’d never bothered to pick up from the floor when I’d returned from Eve’s room to go to bed.
A deep breath rushed out of me.
What more did I need as a sign of what I’d done wrong than an inverted cross planted firmly in the ground next to where I’d broken my vow to God?
The tapping sound from outside happened again, a little farther in the distance than it had been before. I wondered it was a bird or some other animal attempting to break into the bark of a tree to get at what little food could be found there.
Standing from the mattress, I padded barefoot across the floor, pulling the threadbare curtain aside to take a look.
I didn’t see an animal, but what I did find was my truck in its usual parking space, the passenger door wide open.
“Crap,” I muttered. I’d neglected to remember to run back outside and shut it after bringing Eve into the rectory. My battery was most likely dead from the interior light staying on all night. Another sign perhaps. One that signified that I was slipping quickly into the past where I was a man wrapped securely in blankets of sin.
I would have left the truck for later and gone back to bed if I hadn’t heard the tapping sound again. Concerned that an animal was rummaging through what little I had in the interior, I didn’t bother grabbing a shirt to cover my bare chest. I didn’t grab shoes or anything else, just walked the short halls to the door and threw it open in nothing but the black pajama pants I’d worn when I finally laid down to sleep.
My throat hurt from screaming at the bastard I left on the side of the road – or was it from praying last night until I’d run out of breath? I ignored the pain to stumble over twigs and rocks in the dirt driveway. Instantly regretting the decision not to grab shoes, I’d almost reached my truck when a particularly sharp rock caught me in the dead center of my foot.
I cursed under my breath and lifted my foot to inspect the damage.
“That looks like it hurt. I thought dad had taught you better than to wander outside without the proper clothes.”
Spinning in place, I almost lost my balance. Jericho leaned back against the trunk of a large tree, his arms crossed at his chest, his body covered in black pants and a black shirt.
“You ever wear anything other than black?” I asked, not sure why that was the first question out of my mouth. Even though I was surprised to find him standing there, I wasn’t shocked. After the events over the past few days it wasn’t hard to figure out that he’d been watching me longer than I’d known he was living close to my town.
“Do you?” he asked, a smirk pulling at his lips.
“I have a reason,” I reminded him.
That smirk broadened into a smile. “As do I, brother. As do I.”
Pausing, he said, “I hear you attempted to return Eve to me last night.”
“Yeah,” I bit out, “And I hear you had your family shoot at her until she had no choice but to run to save her life.”
He shrugged a negligible shoulder. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re never sure about anything.”
He laughed. “When can a man be sure about anything?”
“Why are you here, Jericho?”
Smiling just enough for the expression to be a threat, but not quite enough to reach his eyes, he didn’t move from where he leaned against the tree. The sun still hadn’t climbed over the horizon and he’d intentionally settled himself where he’d be concealed in shadow. Even if someone happened to walk by and look up the drive, it was doubtful they’d see him where he stood.
“I came by to deliver a gift.”
I reached up to run my hand through my hair, the anger and frustration I was feeling making it impossible not to move in some way. “Did you destroy the sanctuary again like some random teenager?”
“Not quite.”
Tired of his games, and tired of the non-answers he always gave, I turned as if I were walking back in the direction of the rectory. “Goodbye, Jericho. Do me a favor and stay the hell off parish property and out of my life.”
He allowed me to walk a few steps before calling out again. “Do you remember Ellen Baker?”
Stopped in my tracks by a name from my past, I didn’t bother turning back to him. “Of course, I remember her.” I’d been thinking about her the night before, but I didn’t tell him that. “Why?”
“I was thinking about her last night. Thinking about what we did to her down in that dusty basement beneath the church while preparing for a charity dinner.”
My curiosity got the better of me. I turned to lock my eyes with his. It was like looking in a mirror. Thirty-six years, eighteen of which were spent apart, and we still looked identical. He even had the same haircut as me.
“Okay. What’s your point?”
He grinned, his eyes darting out into the distance before they were directed back to mine. “Innocence always tastes so sweet, don’t you remember? How many virgins did we have notched on our bedposts by the time you left for college? Seventeen? Or was it eighteen? That number doesn’t even come close to the whores, but none of them really mattered. It was the innocent that we always focused on during the worst of our games.”
“I’m not that man anymore, Jericho. I don’t care what you’ve done with your life. I can’t help the people you’re still preying on. I have my own parish to run. And a woman sleeping inside that is so fucked up she doesn’t know her own name. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
Uncrossing his arms, he slipped his hands into his pockets, his face cast down so that he was looking at the ground beneath his feet. Regardless of where he looked, his voice still carried. “Have you enjoyed her yet? I seem to think you have.”
My thoughts rushed back to what I’d done to Eve against my bedroom wall, my guilt sweeping in to drown me for having enjoyed doing it. I didn’t sink so low as to use her to pleasure my own body, but watching the expressions of her face, knowing that the sounds crawling up her throat were because of me, it was a feeling I’d long forgotten in the years I’d been a priest.
Jericho’s gaze lifted to mine. “Have you yet supped on her sweet divinity? I can promise you there’s nothing else like it.”
“No,” I growled, anger a jagged pulse in my veins. “And I have no plans to take part in screwing her up anymore than you’ve already done.”
He tsked, a smile spreading across his face. “I think you’re lying, Jacob. You can tell me that all day long while you attempt to convince yourself, but the truth is obvious behind your eyes.”
I didn’t respond – couldn’t respond due the lump of rage threatening to choke me.
“Tell me, do you look at her and see all the little choir boys you’ve played with in your role as priest?”
My hands curled into fists. “I haven’t touched anybody.”
“Lying is a sin, you know?”
At that point, lying was the least of my sins. I’d convinced myself that touching Eve like I had was for her own good. It was only a means to an end. She needed relief after the night she had, and since I was responsible for the events of that night, I’d gone against my own beliefs to give her what she believed she needed.
After escorting her back to bed, I’d sat with her and run my fingers through her hair until I was sure she slept peacefully. Yes, I’d enjoyed what I’d done to her, and that was my cross to bear. But it wouldn’t happen again. I would make sure of it.
“I haven’t touched her,” I said again, adding strength to my voice now that I was fully awake and the fury I felt toward my brother was spreading its wings inside me and coming back to life. “And I haven’t touched any choir boys.”
He shrugged again before reaching up to scrub his hand over the back of his neck. Tilting his head to the left and right to relieve the muscles of his shoulders, he looked back at me, a smile pulling across his face. “How about your young parishioners? I can think of one that looked awfully happy to see you yesterday. The dear, sweet thing ran up to give you a hug just outside the church doors.”
My breath caught in my lungs to remember exactly who he was talking about.
“What have you done, Jericho?”
Laughing, he stared me directly in the face. “I’ve done nothing. I just thought it was sweet, the deep color of the blush that ran across her cheeks. From where I was standing, I would even venture to guess that the girl was in love. With a priest, no less.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the way she feels. She’s an innocent girl. Leave her alone.”
I couldn’t read his expression, but there was something in it I didn’t like. A shadow, or mockery of my calling, I wasn’t sure, but I wanted nothing more than to slap the look from his face.
“Tell me you haven’t wondered, brother. That you haven’t looked at the innocent girls sitting there listening to you preach about God, the ones kneeling before you to accept the body of Christ into their bodies, their lush little mouths sliding over your fingers, and remembered what it was like to show them what it meant to see the divine.”
Fear traced up my spine. Not for myself, but for the innocent people who were being dragged into the crosshairs of a man who was obviously lost to his insanity. “Why are you doing this?”
“Why not?” he asked, raising his hands up as if what he’d done to Eve meant nothing. As if his cryptic threat against Annabelle was just a simple joke between brothers. Pushing away from the tree, he took measured steps toward me, but stopped when he was still ten feet away.
“Try as much as you like, Jacob, hide behind your clerical collar, drop to your knees to beg forgiveness and pray to a God who isn’t listening. None of that will rid you of the man you really are deep down inside. We started our games together, but it was always you who played harder, who bit deeper into the hearts of the sweet women who invited us to their beds.”
He paused, his breath even while mine was a storm within my chest.
“Tell me, brother, are your prayers helping you? And who will God listen to when you pray for the strength to avoid Eve while I pray for your weakness so that you give in and remember exactly who you are?”
I couldn’t listen to him anymore. Just like the asshole I’d left bleeding on the side of the road, I wanted to rage against Jericho, wanted to slam my fist into his face so many times he would no longer look like my twin.
“Stay away from my parish. Stay away from my parishioners. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from Eve and from me.”
Soft laughter shook his shoulders. “Now, that I can’t help you with. Eve is only on loan. And time is moving quickly toward the moment I’ll be taking her back. Tick tock, Jacob.”
Stepping forward, I stopped myself before getting so close I’d be tempted to act on the violence churning inside me.
“You may have convinced Eve that I’m you. Hell, you may have convinced your entire family, but there are people who know I have a twin brother. There are people who can tell the police or whoever I end up dragging into this that you’ve been lurking around this church.”
“Are there?” he asked, the corner of his lips pulling up. “I guess that means I should be on my way then. I would hate for all of this to be for nothing.”
Turning away from me, he waved from over his shoulder as he casually strolled towards the woods that lined the property. “Take care, Jacob. I’m sure we’ll run into each other again soon.”
“No, we won’t,” I yelled back.
Stopping in place, he glanced at me from over his shoulder. “I won’t stop until you give in to the fear and trembling, brother. Fear,” he repeated, “and trembling. You’ll understand what I mean by that soon enough. The gift I left you is in Eve’s bedroom, by the way. You may want to get to it before she does. I don’t think she’ll appreciate it very much.”
With that, he walked off, becoming lost in shadow before disappearing into the woods entirely.
“Fuck,” I hissed, hating that I’d lost the ability to have anything more intelligent to say. Kicking at the rock that had pierced my foot when I first walked outside, I crossed the driveway to slam the door to my truck, and turned to walk back inside.
I didn’t appreciate hearing he’d been in Eve’s bedroom again, and I feared I’d find her in pain and struggling just like the last time. She couldn’t stay alone in her room any longer, which meant she’d have to stay in my room with me.
Eve being within easy reach wouldn’t make my life any easier.
Racing into the rectory, I grabbed a shirt and wound through the halls into the church, around the sanctuary and down the hall leading to Eve’s door. Fear was a tension over my bones, but I threw open the door, expecting…
Hell, I didn’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t what I found.
Eve slept peacefully in her bed, the first rays of morning light shining in through the window to illuminate her face. There were no new bruises that I could see and the blankets were pulled up snug to her chin.
Jericho must have left her alone for once.
Which meant there was something else in this room that he’d tucked away, a gift he intended for me to find before anybody else had the opportunity.
Moving quietly into the room, I was glad for my lack of shoes. It made it easier for me to creep around without making a sound, without waking up the young woman sleeping on the bed. Quickly scanning my eyes over the room, I didn’t see anything that was out of place, but while running my eyes past the small desk positioned beneath the crucifix on the wall, I caught sight of just the corner of a white envelope where it had been tucked inside a large Bible.
I glanced at Eve to ensure she was still sleeping before padding slowly over the floor. A board creaked beneath my foot. I stopped and waited to see if it was enough to wake her up. She didn’t stir in response to the sound so I kept going.
Reaching the desk, I slipped the envelope from the Bible, refusing to open it until I was out of the room and away from prying eyes. I closed the door behind me without letting it latch and walked at a brisk pace down the hall toward the rectory. Before I could make it through the sanctuary I was stopped in my path.
“Father Hayle? Do you have a minute to talk?”
I spun in place to lock eyes with Sister Agnes, one of the senior nuns that lived at the convent a few streets away. As soon as I saw the black of her habit, I remembered that I’d never heard what happened to Sister Joyce.
“Sister,” I said, inclining my head and stuffing the envelope discreetly into my pocket. “Can I help you with something?”
Her gaze trailed down my body and back up to my face. “Why are you running around in pajamas and no shoes, Father?” Her face turned toward the hall from where I’d just emerged. The last thing I needed was for her curiosity to lead her down that direction to find Eve sleeping naked in the recovery room.
Quickly, I marched forward and took her by the hand. “I’m sorry, Sister, I know it’s not proper for me to be running around half dressed. I’d rushed inside to make some coffee, but before I could walk into the kitchen, I thought I heard a noise. I was just checking that all the windows and doors to the church are locked.”
Her expression fell, her hand reaching up to clutch the rosary that hung from her neck. “Oh, yes. I heard about what happened to the statue of Mary. It’s horrible business, I tell you. Darn kids think it’s funny nowadays, but they have no idea how mean spirited their pranks are. Sister Eunice returned to the convent very much in distress for having seen it.”
I patted her hand. “It’s been taken care of. We were able to clean the statue,” I turned to show her, “and as you can see, it’s good as new.”
A small smile spread over her lips, but she was still upset. “Well, I’m glad to see that, Father, but I need to talk to you about other matters. Is there somewhere private we can talk?”
Glancing around the sanctuary, I noticed there was nobody else in the room. How much more private did she need it to be? Still, she was obviously concerned about something and I needed to get this conversation over with as quickly as possible before Eve woke up and came looking for me.
“We can talk in my office, if you like.”
“Yes, Father. That will work.”
I motioned with my arm. “Ladies first.”
She blushed, but tried to turn her head in time for me to miss it. I didn’t.
Sister Agnes did the sign of the cross as soon as she entered my office. Her eyes had gone straight to the crucifix on the wall opposite my desk. She kissed her rosary and walked to take a seat facing me.
Seated behind the desk, I could feel the edge of the envelope pressing against my leg, and the sharp corner of whatever was inside. I needed to get the Sister out of here. "What would you like to talk to me about?"
"Two things," she announced, her lips pulling into an apologetic line. "The first is about Sister Joyce. We contacted the hospital to see if she showed up to read to the children, and they told us she did. But nobody has seen her since that time. Do you know if she came back to the parish?"
"I don't think she did," I answered honestly, happy that, for once, I could say something without it being a lie. I was racking up the minor sins so fast that a few Hail Marys wasn't going to be enough to make up for them.
Plus, there was that slightly major one I still had to atone for, not to mention the inverted cross in the floor of my bedroom. Twelve years of my life were being washed away.
"Well, we've called the police so they can start looking for her. But we're asking around ourselves as well. Didn't the issue with the statue happen the morning after you saw her last?"
"It happened that night." My eyes blinked slowly as the reminder of that particular nightmare was slapped in my face. Through all the other chaos with Eve, I'd neglected to remember there was a missing nun and puddles of blood in the sanctuary.
Reaching up, I pinched the bridge of my nose.
"Are you okay, Father Hayle?"
"Yes," I groaned, pulling my hand from my face. "I'm just exhausted," I explained, glad that it wasn't a lie.
"Where were you the night Sister Joyce disappeared and the statue was violated?"
"Here," I answered honestly, even if I was leaving out the part where I was busy tending to a brainwashed naked woman. Technically it was a lie of omission, but I tried not to think about that.
"And what happened the following morning? When the desecrated statue was found?"
"I heard a scream coming from the sanctuary, so I ran in to investigate. It was the young initiate. I led her into the kitchen and then went outside-"
"I mean, what happened with Sister Eunice?"
My thoughts were immediately back in the front courtyard where my brother had scared that poor woman to the point of tears. In my rush to go tell Eve that I was taking her back to the compound, I hadn't given Eunice the time to calm down. I hadn't been the shepherd I should have been for all members of the church. "She saw the statue, which I assumed is what upset her so much."
I hadn't yet mentioned my brother because I didn't want the cops involved with Eve still in such a fragile state. The Diocese would discover she was staying at the church and demand she be taken to a hospital or a home for people in her less than healthy mental condition. Although, if the time came when I needed to involve the police, the young nun would be a witness to the fact that I have an identical twin who's been lurking around church property.
Sister Agnes frowned. "That sounds like very little for her to have reacted so poorly."
My eyebrows arched up my head. "What do you mean?"
"She's left God's service, Father. We're unsure where she's gone, but she left a note in her room explaining she'd changed her mind about taking her formal vows."
Crap. That only left the gardener, Mr. Whitaker as an eyewitness regarding my brother.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Sister. Perhaps there were other factors playing into her decision."
"Our life is not for everyone, Father. You know that as much as I."
Inclining my head in agreement, I moved my leg in an effort to get whatever was poking me from the envelope to shift. I only succeeded in making it press tighter against my leg. "Is there anything else, Sister?"
Her frown deepened. "Well, yes. There is the upsetting business of what occurred late yesterday afternoon."
Folding my hands over each other on the surface of my desk, I waited patiently for her to reveal whatever that upsetting business was.
"Where were you last night, Father? Not late, but around sunset?"
"Here." Another lie.
"Are you sure? You see, George Whitaker was in an unfortunate accident on his property."
My eyes widened. "What happened? Is he okay?"
"He's dead, Father."
My heart dropped into my stomach. George was the only man who could verify Jericho's existence beyond Eunice. Without either of them, I had no other person who could tell the police that Jericho was on church property.
"How did he die?"
"He was tending to his lawn and there was apparently an accident involving his lawn mower. Horrible business, really. When he was found, he was on the brink of death. Someone was sent to fetch you from the parish so you could pray over him, but nobody could find you."
"I was here," I lied, swallowing down the lump it left in my throat.
"Your truck wasn't, Father."
No. No it wasn't. But I couldn't tell her I was dropping a brainwashed woman off to the cult my twin brother was running only to find her getting raped on the side of the road where I proceeded to beat down her attacker.
"Oh, you know? That's right. I had a few errands to run. I'm sorry. I forgot that."
As if God himself were sitting in the room testing me for each lie that was easily falling from my lips, Sister Agnes' gaze dropped to my hands, her eyes widening instantly. "What happened to your hand? You're injured."
I followed her gaze to the bandage I'd quickly wrapped over my busted knuckles before going to bed. Blood had seeped through the white cotton.
"Um, I -" Another lie was coming. Another festering knot clogging my throat. "That was the errand. I'm having battery issues with my truck and cut my hand working on it."
Only a partial lie. I really was having battery issues, as in the battery was most likely dead from having left the door open all night.
"You really must be more careful, Father."
Nodding in agreement, I had nothing to say. I was simply biding my time for her to leave so I could open the envelope and find out what other unfortunate surprises my brother had in store for me. As it appeared now, each person who could have confirmed he was around or near the church was missing or dead. My blood pressure was steadily rising and I needed this meeting to end.
I was also finally aware of why Jericho had grinned when I told him there were people who could attest to what he was doing. At the time I made the statement, he must have known for a fact those people weren't around any longer.
"Well, I've taken enough of your time, Father. I'm sure you’re busy today preparing the homily for Sunday Mass tomorrow."
I groaned. No matter what occurred today, I had no choice but to prepare the homily. My absence at Sunday Mass couldn't be explained away by a dead truck battery. People would notice, which meant people would start asking questions.
"The police will be stopping by at some point to talk to you about the vandalism to the sanctuary. I just wanted to let you know."
My brows shot up again. "Is that really necessary? The statue is fine and -"
"They also want to talk to you about Sister Joyce's disappearance. It's all normal procedure when a missing persons report is filed."
Drawing in a deep breath, I forced a small smile. "Of course, Sister."
She stood and I stood along with her to walk her to my office door. Taking her hands in mine, I said, "May God bless you and walk beside you in your day."
Her smile was unsure. "You too, Father."
She left immediately after and I watched through the window to verify when she was off parish property. Once she was happily on her way down the sidewalk, I ran back to my desk, pulled the envelope from my pocket and sat down in my chair. Staring at the non-descript white paper, I whispered a quick prayer before opening it to discover what was inside.
Three Polaroid pictures were tucked neatly within the envelope, and were upside down as I pulled them out. When I turned them over, the shock was so sudden that I pushed back my chair, grabbed my wastebasket and dry heaved over it.
This wasn't happening. This couldn't possibly be happening.
Sweat broke out over my forehead to drip along the side of my face, and the rage inside me was ratcheting so high that I feared there was no other way to release it without punching walls.
That sick son of a bitch.
Flipping the pictures over to lie side by side on the surface of my desk, my eyes blinked in disbelief and heartache.
The first image was innocent. Annabelle Prete was hugging me in the front courtyard of the church on the day she'd come to confess her crush on me. The picture was taken from a distance, as if someone happened to be walking by and snapped the shot.
But the other two photos were what drove my heart rate to the point of pain - to the point where my hands were clutching into fists and dread was a steady stream trickling down my spine.
The first was taken from a vantage point above the young woman's partially naked body. Her arms were spread out above her head on a bed, her breasts were exposed where her shirt had been unbuttoned and her skirt was pooling around her hips. Below, her legs were spread and the shot captured the moment a cock was being pushed inside her body. A mixture of pain and pleasure was in her facial expression - joy, love, doubt and guilt obvious in her eyes.
But it was the next picture that worried me, only because it was the next picture that showed me exactly what Jericho had done.
Annabelle was still naked in the shot, her mouth open on the cry of a young woman having sex for the first time. And in the mirror that was also included in the frame, was a clear reflection of my brother's - my - face, below which was a black shirt like I always wore, together with the stark white strip of a clerical collar.