But all I can do is stand there and wait, trying not to break a nail as I fidget my fingers against each other nervously.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Amon stands and turns to me. His eyes pull at me like gravity, threatening to devour me if I make one wrong move.
“Good,” he says simply. I can’t believe it.
“So…it’s okay?”
“No.” He shakes his head, causing my heart to skip a beat. “It’sgood.Good job, Joan.”
I did it. I did what I was told, and I succeeded. Relief flows through me, but as I look back at him, I realize something terrifying.
The praise in his eyes is addicting. I want more. So much more.
But I can’t. That’s wrong. Amon is my step-brother, and I’m supposed to be pious…pure…
His cell rings, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin. He checks it, then looks at me. “You can go, Joan. For now.”
Thank God.
I rush from the room like a rat with its tail on fire, up the stairs to my room, and slam it behind me. Panting like a maniac, I collapse onto the bed and try to calm myself down.
But Amon’s words ring in my ears like church bells.
“Good job, Joan.”
Even replaying them now causes the same feeling of pride and joy to fill me. I don’t know what’s happening to me, but it’s dangerous.
I read Scripture for the next three hours. I don’t even leave to go to the bathroom. My goal is to stay away from Amon—from temptation.
But as the hours pass, my resolve starts slipping. It’s like an invisible force, pulling at me from down the hall.
Chewing my bottom lip, I try to fight it. I bury my head in the Bible, but eventually, my will gives way, and I’m on my feet.
I step slowly out into the hall, listening for sounds of my step-brother.
I can see it, just a few doors down. The closet door where I was brought—where I was awakened.
My breath comes in short gasps as I sneak down the hall, trying to calm my rapid heartbeats.
Sin and curiosity has gripped me, and I can no longer fight it. I need another look at that…thinghe had me tied to. That thing that wrung me out like a wet dish towel.
My hand trembles as I take the knob and twist. The hinges of the door squeak as I pull slowly, feeling my pulse beating heavy in my ears. And then, I see it…
A typhoon of emotions sweeps me up in its grasp, threatening to break me from the inside out. My eyes close as I remember last night—my wrists bound together, my ankles tied to the floor.
The hum between my thighs pulling me closer and closer—
“Next time, you won’t fight as much.” The sound of Amon’s voice snaps me back to reality. I yelp, slam the door shut, and whirl to face him.
He stands there like an immovable object, arms crossed casually across his massive chest, looking down at me with amusement and…something else. Something I can’t quite read.
“I…”
Before I can react, he turns, leaving me with a smirk that bores straight down into my bones.
I have to force myself not to call out to him. But my throat is tight, and my breath won’t come.
I race back to my room and lock myself in. Grasping my cross, I pray to God that he will grant me the strength to make the right choices. The strength to be good and do all the right things.
