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“Yes. She came here while your father was out and packed a rather substantial bag and left.” Whoa.
“Did she say where she was going?”
“She said nothing, Imogen. I asked her and reminded her she is straying from the path of God, but she simply hugged me, kissed me and left.” It is at times like these I wish we were all closer, but my father was rather successful at pitting us against one another growing up so he kept that from happening except with me and Rayna.
Dinner is served at the table and the four of us sit and wait for my father’s plate to be filled before we serve ourselves. I am rather enjoying the quiet, my mind needs all the time it can get to process everything that is happening. But then my father starts. “I see Adriel is missing again.”
My mother says nothing, simply nods her head and continues to eat. “I tell you what, that girl has shown nothing but disrespect for this family. She has become Satan’s disciple and I won’t have that in my house.” He yells, slamming his hand down on the table. My cup and plate bounce, the clanking noise deafening because I know it spells doom for my sister. “If she doesn’t shape up and confess her sins, soon, she will be cast out of not only our heavenly kingdom, but of this house.” Every word he says is like a hammer falling down on top of me.
I don’t know what she has been up to, but I am flirting with sin, skating closer and closer to it. I am in danger of losing my salvation and the thing is, I should be panicked. I should be on my knees in the prayer room begging my savior to forgive me and rid my soiled heart of this lust, but I can’t. Something in me is alive, pacing and spinning around in circles searching for him when he is not next to me.
When his hand is in mine, I feel like a lid to a container has been closed completing the set, but instead of closing me in, it frees me. Every time he kisses me and demands I kiss him, my body sings and complies. Hell, Jezebel starts gyrating. The heathen.
Alone in my room, I take a shower wanting to cleanse myself I suppose, but with my eyes closed and the water dripping all over me, it does the opposite. The feeling as the droplets move, something I have felt my whole life, feels different now. It feels the way I do the minute he says my name.
Without experience and no shame, my hand falls from my hair, slowly sliding down my neck. My body is slick from the body wash, making it all seem dirtier. My fingers glide over my nipples and I gasp. My head drops back and body shakes from the feeling.
I touch them again and moan into the water. “Holy...” I stop myself from finishing that sentence. Nothing about this is holy. I have never felt my nipples so sensitive before. I want to know if the rest of me is so vibrantly aware but I don’t allow myself to go any further. I know I need to stop this. Regain my place amongst the righteous and wait for the heavenly father to send me my husband through my father. But why is the thought of that so daunting now? Just wash up and get out Imogen.
Nightgown on, I peek through the curtains, wishing he would be looking out of his and then I castigate myself. “I have to find a way to resist him. Temptation is a test, Imogen. A way into heaven for those that stay faithful.” I say to an empty room, hoping that saying it out loud will restore my virtue. I open my bible and begin reading.
With each verse, my thoughts stray. These are the same words I have been reading for my entire life, but since he has come into my life, they are beginning to not hold the same weight. It is like I don’t recognize myself anymore. I am questioning everything I thought I knew and wanted in the span of two days and it is scaring the sin into me.
Thirty minutes later, I am no closer to finding the answers and I am exhausted. Being confused, aroused and scared does not leave one with much energy. Putting my bible back onto my side table, I reach over to turn out the light when I hear something hit my window. I stop moving, scared as crap it could be a bat. A few seconds pass and I hear it again.
Swinging legs over the side, I get up and walk over to it. “Pequeña, open up.” What is he doing? Is he crazy? My father will either kill him or have him arrested. “Come on baby, let me in.” I shouldn’t open it. It is a test. God is testing my obedience and strength. Even as I am reminding myself of this I know I am going to open it. My resolve is slipping where he is concerned and I don’t know if I am strong enough to fight it.
