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“How was tonight, and will you tell me how The Chapel started? I need to know in order to understand everything happening.” I ask, turning my head to face Elijah who is now next to me on the grass.
“The great Master Maxton Montgomery stood proud with his number two and my mom at his side. His number three, the one whose family we slaughtered last night, wasn’t there. He convinced his followers that the son acted out a murder-suicide.” He pauses, letting me take that in before continuing.
“Your father convinced them with his charismatic personality and charm that the Devil himself speaks to him, communicates his wishes through your father to ensure they are fulfilled, to better the world. And when you think about it, to better the world from Blackwood, it’s the biggest load of shit, but people bought into it. Here, you either love God or bow down to the Devil. He started holding Chapel at his house, in the backyard, and used the fire as the communication vessel between him and The Dark One. Seeing is believing, people started to believe. Maxton saw this as a great money opportunity as well. He started charging people to attend and to have The Dark One help them. At first, followers would moan about their bosses or neighbors being dicks to them, and suddenly The Dark One, during Devil’s Night which they call, La Notte del Diavolo, would have blackmail ready for them to use against those people. As more people started buying into it, your father’s ego grew. That’s when he renamed himself Master and moved to the caves with the cloaks and masks. He also started charging people to be members, or followers as they are referred to. As they moved up his ranks, they would get charged more to attend and to be close to the Master. Then one day, blackmail turned into bodies. Blood rituals to thank The Dark One, to give souls back to him in gratitude. Anyone who was in the way of The Chapel soul became enslaved to The Dark One for eternity. Then, your father started using the fire to get names to appease his own agenda, which led me to you and your mom.”
“Why us?” It sounds pathetic as I ask it, but I need to know.
“He has known where you two have been for some time. When your names were pulled, he expressed giving your mom, the evil in the world, to The Dark One. Then I would keep you, he told his followers that you and I would be the next generation to take over The Chapel. His only blood born and his stepson. He convinced the followers that your mom was evil, she kept you from him all these years. Denied him of his rights. He sent me around prior to your birthday, he planned La Notte del Diavolo for that night. I snuck into your room when you were working late one night, grabbed some hair from your brush so he could get it tested. It was a match, he is your father. Then I took you both. Before La Notte del Diavolo began, he told the followers the plan for the evening, at the wish of The Dark One, which is why you were covered in her blood and markings after I killed her. Then shit changed. Your father went back on his word, he wanted you to himself, like the sick fucker he is. But no one questioned him, except for me. Questioning him only enrages him. Provokes his beast more. Something I fucking love to do. When he decided plans had changed, I was not going to lay down quietly and take it. He thinks he still has some control over me because of my mother. That has no relevance to me. You were always fucking mine. Are MINE!”
His passion is chilling. Beautiful and fucking hot.
“Then why pull my name now?” I question, trying to wrap my head around all this new information.
He blows out a sigh. “He is going to try and take you away from me again. He is either going to try and kill me instead at the next La Notte del Diavolo, or change plans again and keep you, trap you, make you his personal prisoner. And who the fuck knows, maybe still try and kill me. He knows I will never rest until I have you back.”
Elijah’s face hardens. He’s not with me right now, he is off in a world where people are taking me. I place my hand on his face and whisper, “No one is going to take me. I am safe with you. I am yours. You would never let them have me. We would never let it happen. You are teaching me. I am becoming stronger, and my wings are finally opening. I am free. I am your little bat, as you are my protector.”
His face leans into my touch with each word spoken.
I continue, “Thank you for bringing my mom to me, to our home.”
Looking at me, his face is stunning in this light, the highlights and shadows from the flashlight accentuate his features, his tattoo, and his softness. Calming him down, his face in my palm shows a vulnerable side I had not seen before. Even if it’s just for a moment, it's a nice glimpse further into his being.
As he comes back to me, his face hardens and his breathing regulates before he speaks up, “We should get to bed. He may have pulled your name, but we also have names of our own.”
My stomach flutters in excitement, similar to when E told me to crawl to him. I smile, and my eyes widen with my mind racing, wondering who our name is. Standing up, I look down at him with eagerness in my voice, “Well, what are you doing still down on the grass? Let’s go.”
Chapter 18
Elijah
At the kitchen table, I am leaning back in my chair wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, no shirt which shows off all my ink and drinking a hot cup of fresh coffee. I am always an early riser, up with the sun. I wish I wasn’t, but this is one thing I cannot control. The morning sun is shining through the large windows that overlook the back of my property, where Rain’s mom is. Last night was a trip. But I’m glad it’s all out now. She knows exactly the situation she has been put into, and she isn’t scared away. She is ready to run into it with me, beside me, and proving it the other night was the hottest thing I had ever seen.
Feeling her before hearing or seeing, Rain, my little bat is up. Taking another sip of my coffee, I wait for her to join me.
Entering the large space, her dark hair is up in a ponytail and wearing my black tee, which barely covers her ass. Walking to the coffee machine, she pours some into the mug I left for her. Looking at me, Rain takes her first sip, and her hazel eyes smile in delight.
“Do you need to sleep attached to me all night?” She grumbles, taking another drink.
What a stupid fucking question!
“Yes.”
She doesn’t respond, knowing her efforts would be useless. I am never letting her go.
Padding over to the table, she takes a seat, placing her mug down in front of her, while taking me in. I watch her eyes roam up my body, nipping on her lip as her breath hitches. Her eyes meet mine, catching her. She isn’t embarrassed. Instead, she winks at me as I lean further back in my chair. Placing my hand over my cock, I grab it and wink back at her.
Rain laughs, it's captivating, something I could listen to all day.
Then she asks, “What keeps you here?” Which catches me off guard. What does she mean? Why am I here?
“I live here.”
Shaking her head, “No, sorry that came out wrong. Why do you stay? Why do you put up with his lies and feed into it?”
I rake my hand through my thick hair. “There are things about me that I don’t want to share yet. Things that I left behind for a reason, because they will come back soon. Oh, so very soon. But for now, I get to pretend it’s not there. That I don’t have those responsibilities. So I stay. Killing doesn’t bother me. Hurting people isn’t a big deal. Just another day. Being step daddy dearest’s killing and torture machine keeps me close, in the know and it fills a part of me that needs this. The kill, the hurting. The satisfaction from it can be compared to an addict taking a hit of their favorite drug. It’s also why I had the skull face tattooed on me. I am a ghost. I am death. This is me.”
Her head nods. “Ok.”
