Page 10 of Remorseless Sinner

Gracie

I woke up absolutely furious.

He thought he owned me, didn’t he?

Oh, I had one week to love him, did I?

I would never love him.

Although I smelled coffee in the kitchen, at least Saul wasn’t beside me in the bed, and I staggered out, my thighs aching, and went into the bathroom.

Defiantly, I popped open my birth control pack and grabbed a pill.

Wait, had they always tasted like this?

I was too furious to notice.

He was wrong.

I was good.

So what if I did occasionally have impure thoughts? Praying to Nimhe would help that.

But the Eye knew all. And he knew that I had taken some sort of sick, wrong pleasure in rubbing my cunt on Saul, in seeing him between my thighs.

I didn’t understand it but there it was.

Saul was so stoic, but something about how he had grunted, something about how those cold eyes had sharpened as he looked at me. . .had given me a tiny bit of power.

I just had to find a way to escape him before the week was up. Because at the end of the week he’d want to stick that cock that had barely fit in my mouth deep in my cunt and that could not be allowed to happen.

Of course I wanted babies. I wanted to have a lot of children.

But not with him .

My mouth was still sore, my throat feeling raw from how long he had forced me to suck his cock.

But after he had fed me soup yesterday, he had allowed me to fall asleep so, even though my dreams had been uneasy, unsettling, I hoped he would keep his promise.

My throat felt dry as I pulled on leggings and a T-shirt.

Why was it so hard to escape him?

Yes, men were always kind to me at church, but I’d assumed that was because we were all brothers and sisters in the Sight of the Eye, and not because of how I looked.

Didn’t my worth rest in how Eye-blessed I was? Wasn’t that how I thought I’d find a husband?

But only Saul knew how I had acted in the dark and he still wanted me.

I crossed my arms across my chest, realizing with a start that even with my modest garb, my breasts and ass were very visible.

If I could somehow use this to my advantage. . .maybe I’d have a chance to escape.

I just needed some way to keep Saul from chasing me so I could escape, because I had absolutely no doubt that if I ran, he’d hunt.

And, suddenly, I had an idea.

There was a chest of my grandfather’s old things in my closet and I knew exactly what item I could use.

It was old, but it looked heavy and metallic. It would work.

Taking a deep breath, I walked out the door of my bedroom and into my small kitchen, with its lovely old-fashioned cabinets and wood stove.

“Dr. Meier was right,” I said. “I am nothing but a common whore.”

Saul rotated around from where he had just placed a plate of what smelled like bacon, eggs, and toast on the table, sitting down in a chair at the head of the table and facing me.

“Gracie, stop this bullshit and sit down and eat your food.”

“I—love sucking on men’s cocks,” I said firmly, amazed that my voice wasn’t trembling. “I do it all the time.”

If I was brave enough, I could escape him!

“I love putting them in my—cunt. It’s so hot.”

Saul’s brows drew together and I saw a muscle work in his jaw.

I tried very hard not to look at his black jeans, the bulge I saw in his pants even though he was leaning back relaxed.

“Gracie, you’re pissing me off. Sit down here and eat or I’ll spank you.”

My fingers were slick on the metal of the handcuffs.

I had to get down to his ankle without him suspecting anything.

“What does it mean I have a week to love you?” I stalled.

“It means I’ll give you a week to come to terms with our marriage.”

How come I could still smell him from here? Clean soap, leather, a mouth-watering touch of smoke from the woodstove. . .

“So I have one week without you trying to stick that. . . thing in me?”

“Yes,” he said with a smirk. “Unless you piss me off and I lose control.”

At his words, I felt a terrible tingling sensation going down my spine. But it didn’t matter. In the time it took him to get free, I could easily make it down the street and to City Hall where the Sheriff would be.

“OK, OK,” I said. “I’m sorry. But how can we really be married? I don’t think I wet your boot enough.”

He raised one dark eyebrow, and his arm reached for the mug of coffee.

He was only wearing a T-shirt and jeans today, the fabric stretched tight against his massive chest.

“Mama, there was cum running down to your ankles. My goddamn pant legs were wet up to the knee. I think you wet it enough. But if you want to try again, go for it.”

Ah-ha! He’d suggested it without me even having to say anything.

“OK,” I said.

He hesitated for a moment and I held my breath.

If he was going to be so disgusting as to carnally desire me, I was going to use that for my advantage.

Several of the precepts of Nimhe entered my mind but I shoved them aside. Surely this came under the heading of whorish behavior, but I didn’t care.

This wasn’t disobeying my husband. It was trying to escape from a con man who had fooled the rest of the church, but he hadn’t fooled me.

Then Saul stretched back, the chair scraping on the wooden floor and he spread his thighs wide.

There was a thick bulge already pressing against his black jeans and I swallowed convulsively, but bent down, carefully maneuvering the handcuffs so they wouldn’t make noise.

Then I put one hand on Saul’s leg, the blood-red of my ruby ring catching the light for a moment.

Was this going to work?

My thighs screaming I squatted down over his boot, lowering my body over the firm, hard surface.

Just as I felt his heavy exhalation all along my skin, I pulled the cuffs from behind my back, suddenly panicking his legs were too massive, but before I could faint from fear, I snapped one cuff around his ankle and the other around the chair, trapping him tight.

He looked down at the chair legs as I stumbled away and got to my feet.

And I should have left without looking back, but some damn demon inside me made me turn around.

“Goodbye, Saul,” I said. “You didn’t win after all.”

But instead of looking baffled, Saul’s harsh lips were twisted up and his eyes were bright.

“Take your head start, wife,” he said. “You’re going to need it.”

And I didn’t bother to put my shoes on. I just ran.

As I burst out the door, I saw Mr. and Mrs. Potter in their matching velour tracksuits, coming back from their daily walk.

What if they somehow got in the way of Saul chasing me?

“You’re moving fast, there, young lady,” Mr. Potter said amiably, his eyes twinkling at me.

“Want to come over for tea later? I made raspberry scones with cream?” Mrs. Potter asked.

“Watch out!” I gasped, hearing the door slam open behind me. “There’s a man—behind me—he’s very dangerous. Stay—away!”

“A man? Behind you?” Mr. Potter said in a much different voice, sharper, tighter than his usual amiable tones, and they both looked behind me, but I couldn’t wait, charging down the lane and bursting out onto Main Street.

How strange it was to see all the people in Honeywood going about their daily activities, totally unaware that in our safe and happy village, there was a cruel, evil man.

They were filling the coffee shop with warm, happy conversation, light spilling out of the library door as William set up for the day.

Oh, William!

But once I got to City Hall, I would be safe. There were phones there, and the Sheriff.

I could find a way to annul this marriage and come back to Honeywood a free woman.

Saul might have won over Pastor Mickelson, but Sheriff McGinty was not involved in the worship of Nimhe at all.

There were crunching sounds behind me, like big, heavy boots on gravel, and I ran. As hard as I could, down the lane and into City Hall.

I had beaten Saul once.

I could do it again.

Oh, Eye-Bless, I had made it before him! Maybe Nimhe hadn’t abandoned me after all.

I threw open the door to City Hall, and luckily for me the Sheriff was at his desk. He was a tall white man with a broad chest and a gray-streaked beard, with a gun strapped to his belt.

I’d never seen him use that, but now I knew it was there.

“Oh, Gracie, what’s wrong?” Sheriff McGinty asked, turning around.

I clutched at his sleeve.

“Thank the Eye, thank the Eye,” I repeated, shrieking as my husband burst in the door three seconds after.

But this time he was too late!

Sheriff McGinty pulled up as he saw Saul’s massive body, turning sideways to fit through the door, blocking out all the beautiful sunshine of Honeywood with his bulk.

There was a frown on his face and the way the muscles in his forearms tightened and the one in his jaw throbbed, I would have had to tighten my knees together to keep myself upright if I didn’t know that I was safe now.

“What seems to be the trouble, Gracie?” the Sheriff asked slowly, his eyes fixed on Saul. “Who is this?”

“This man has k-kidnapped me and isn’t letting me go!”

The Sheriff blinked, then turned to Saul.

“Is this true?”

“She’s my wife,” Saul said sharply, narrowing his eyes at me. “My very disobedient wife who should have known better.”

I noticed the entire heavy leg of the chair was still attached to him with the handcuff, and as I watched, he bent down and snapped the thick wood in half.

Holy hell

“He forced me to marry him!” I cried, clenching my fists so hard my ring dug into my finger. “I don’t want to be married to him!”

Saul didn’t blink at all at my words, but his face seemed to turn harsher, more shadowed.

For a moment, the two men stared at each other, the only sounds in City Hall the ragged rasp of my own breathing.

“Perhaps you’d better wait here until I make a few calls,” the Sheriff said, slowly and deliberately. “We only have the one jail cell, but you’ll be comfortable there.”

I could have screamed. The Sheriff was a big, strong man but Saul absolutely dwarfed him, just one of his huge hands twice the size of the older man’s.

“Get in the cell,” he said, as I clutched the Sheriff’s sleeve. He patted my arm reassuringly. “There’s nothing to worry about, Gracie. He’s going in the cell.”

My breathing was so shallow and panicky my head was spinning, but I was relieved to see Saul obey the Sheriff and walk toward the cell.

The cell was very small and old-fashioned, with thick avocado green carpets and a single narrow cot.

I let the Sheriff’s arm go and he went and unlocked the cell door with his keys, opening it wide so Saul could go in.

For a moment, I thought he was going to refuse to enter as his eyes met mine, then my husband ducked his head and the heavy iron bars clanged shut behind him.

“I’m going to make a few calls,” the Sheriff said, dropping the keys in my hands. “I’ll be back.”

“But—” I protested, but he was already gone.

I turned around, backing up against the heavy oak desk to look at Saul.

“I saw the way those eyes lit up when you saw his gun. You want that cop to shoot me, Gracie?”

Did I?

The keys felt real and solid in my hands, and I felt a little power course back into me.

“Yes, yes I do,” I said.

His hands closed over the bars, the cell room so low that his head almost brushed the ceiling.

“Bullshit. What do you want?”

“You to go away,” I said.

Saul couldn’t do anything now, couldn’t make me give him the keys, couldn’t follow through on his threat of getting me pregnant now.

“Go away? I’m your husband. It’s my job to take care of you.”

“I don’t need anyone to take care of me!”

“Must have been someone else on the ground about to get thrown into the forest, then.”

I looked away.

“I don’t understand why that happened.”

“Because they’re greedy men, Gracie. All they care about is money and power.”

“You—you’ve never been a believer. You’ve always been a blasphemer. I don’t know how you were able to fool them.”

“Money and power, Gracie.”

My hands around the key felt slick and wet.

I didn’t want to think about Saul getting thrown into the forest.

I hadn’t known that would happen. But I did want him away from me. In jail.

“You don’t have to worry about them anymore,” Saul said. "I’m here to protect you now.”

“Just let me go,” I cried, my voice almost cracking. “It’s been seven years! Why won’t you godsdamn let me go ?”

“No,” he said, and I saw those big tanned fingers curl around the bars. “Remember the day we met? That was the moment I knew you were the only one for me. And you feel the same way too.”

“I do not!” I insisted.

“Yes, you do. I know who you are, little sister. I know who you are deep down.”

No, it wasn’t true. . .

“Now come over here and unlock this door.”

“Unlock the door?” I laughed incredulously. “I’m not going to do that.”

“I might get hurt in here,” he countered.

“You’re the size of a grizzly bear,” I snapped. “You’ll be fine.”

And my fucking psychotic husband took out a lighter from his pocket and flicked it on.