“Thank God.” A chain rattled from the next room when he shifted positions. “After her family died, Nicole was a lost soul, clinging desperately to Bill’s lies, to his false narrative. I hoped I was getting through to her. I’m glad to hear that the blinders are starting to come off.”
“Pastor Bill lied to me,” I said. “He let me believe that I had the flu, and he told me that the friends I was traveling with all died. That the man I love had died. I think that the blatant lies were too much for Nicole. I suspect that his plans for Hannah contributed to her disillusionment, too.”
“Who’s Hannah?”
“She’s a seventeen-year-old girl that Pastor Bill plans to take as his third wife, the third Eve in his new Garden of Eden.”
“What?” Pastor Derek sputtered, clearly horrified.
“Yup. You hadn’t heard that multiple wives is part of his back to Eden scheme? Hannah had no idea that Pastor Bill had designs on her. She totally freaked out when I told her. It’s the reason they locked me up. I tried to help her escape. She was supposed to find my friends so they could get me out, too, but Pastor Bill’s men caught her before she could get away.”
Pastor Derek lapsed into a stunned silence for a few minutes. “That’s intolerable, a gross perversion of Christianity,” he said at last, his voice full of resolve. “I knew that God had spared me for a reason, and I suspect that this is it. Somebody needs to stop Pastor Bill and show these poor people that he’s a false prophet.”
“I agree. Somebody needs to stop Pastor Bill, but I’m a little leery of finding meaning in anything nowadays. Our escape plan just made things worse. Hannah and I are locked up. Pastor Bill has seen through her meek and obedient act. My friends have no idea where I am. It all feels pretty hopeless.”
“I get that,” Pastor Derek said. “Your plan backfired and you’re discouraged. It doesn’t mean you failed. Keep the faith, Kenzie. You’ll find a way to try again.”
Painfully bright light suddenly flooded the room, and a few seconds later a key rattled in the lock. Shielding my eyes with my hand, I crawled back to the middle of the wall.
Pastor Bill strolled into the room. “I have wonderful news,” he declared with a bright, unnerving smile. “Thanks to your woeful influence upon sweet Hannah and your ill-conceived attempt to drive her away, I’ve concluded that God wants me to formally take her under my wing.”
The notion of Hannah under any part of Pastor Bill gave me the heebie-jeebies. “What does that mean?” I asked.
“An intervention is called for, a strong, guiding hand to bring her back into the fold and show her the error of her ways. Nip her recalcitrance in the bud, as it were. So, instead of waiting two months to marry the girl, we’ll wed tomorrow.”
The world stopped spinning. My mind rioted. Bile clogged my gorge.
“I have a better idea.” The words that fell from my lips took me totally by surprise. I didn’t think I was capable of speech, least of all coming up with a better idea.
“Yes?”
“Hannah is a sweet girl, but how much of a challenge will a malleable, inexperienced teenager be to a man of your talents? You know how to manipulate people, to wrap them around your little finger. This little cult you set up demonstrates that. Really, how hard will it be for you to bring Hannah to heel?”
Pastor Bill folded his arms over his stomach and cocked his head to one side. “I’m intrigued. Please continue.”
“God told you to take four Eves, right? And you only have two, Rebecca and Justine.”
He nodded.
“That means you have two vacancies in your Eve squad.”
“Yes.” His eyes narrowed, then he smirked. “What are you proposing?”
“I propose a simple reshuffling of your plans. Save the number four slot for Hannah. Marry her in two months, when she turns eighteen. It can’t hurt to wait two months, can it? Not when you have something much more worthy of your talents to keep you busy.”
“Get to your point, Mackenzie.”
“Marry me tomorrow, instead of Hannah. Think about it. Who was the instigator of this little rebellion? Who led Hannah astray?”
“Hmmm. If I believe that you’re such a troublemaker, why shouldn’t I just take the girl to wife and keep you locked up?”
“Because what I’m proposing would be a lot more fun.” I waggled my brows suggestively. “I’m a few years older than Hannah. Experienced. Stubborn. Who better to test your skills and your strong hand. Wouldn’t you like to get the best of me? Show me the error of my ways? If you want to nip at anything, shouldn’t it be me?” His hot gaze followed my hand as I touched the fading bruise that Ripper had left on my neck. “I already confessed that I like it rough, remember? Wouldn’t you enjoy trying to break me? Make me repent and grovel?” I smiled, showing him my teeth, daring him to take me up on it.
My plan was the stuff of nightmares, but I’d say anything—anything—to get him to agree to it. If one of us had to face the horror of marrying Pastor Bill, better me than a seventeen-year-old girl.
Even though we were separated and might never find each other again, Ripper had saved the day once again. I remembered all the self-defense lessons he gave me. How to handle a blade. The kill spots on the human body. The tiny knife hidden in my boot.
I like all of Mac’s impulses, especially the violent ones.
Pastor Derek was right. Somebody had to stop Pastor Bill. The solution was simple, a single act that would help set the world right. I knew that Pastor Derek wouldn’t approve. I couldn’t expect a sincere Christian minister to endorse premeditated murder.
It fell to me.
Pastor Bill wouldn’t survive our wedding night.
SEVENTEEN
Kenzie
“Give me your necklaces.”
Rebecca held out her hand, an expression of polite expectation on her face. Justine—my other future sister wife—stopped laying out my bridal clothes and turned to watch us. After dumping a pail of hot water into the tub, Nicole looked our way, too. My hand flew to my throat, and I clutched at Ripper’s dog tags and my birthday necklace.
Over my dead body.
I couldn’t say that, of course, not after I instigated this little charade. I smiled at Rebecca. “I’ve been giving it some thought. These necklaces symbolize my connection to my old, sinful life. I was planning on giving them to Pastor Bill tonight, before we consecrate our union.”
I must be a better actress than I thought if I could deliver that line without gagging.
Rebecca’s brow wrinkled as she considered my words, then her mouth turned down. Was it my defiance that made her frown, or the reminder that Bill and I would supposedly be consecrating our union?
Rebecca reveled in her role as Eve number one and the power it gave her to make people hop-to. I swore I’d stepped into one of those bizarre TV reality shows about plural marriage, where jealousy and resentment simmered right below the serene surface. Except it was hard to swallow the idea that this pretty young woman would fume at the prospect of sharing her husband—Pastor Bill for crissake—with anybody. Bossing people around and access to warm cinnamon rolls couldn’t make up for the sheer ghastliness of being Mrs. Pastor Bill.