Covet Not (42 page)

LXXVI

Jared:
I miss you.

Shula waited
a moment. She wasn’t going to hide from him anymore. He’d made a mistake.
Surely he knew.

And then
there was the news about Josephine. She didn’t know how to offer him comfort,
but to punish him was a cruelty she wasn’t capable of.

Shula:
I miss you.

Jared pressed
a hand over his face and stifled a sob.

Jared:
One day I will know how to right my
wrongs. One day I will make you proud, and purge my cowardice.

Shula:
What are you afraid of?

Jared:
My fears are losing you when I could’ve
prevented it. I fear that my father would harm you in such a way that you
wished you were dead, but he will not grant it.

It all boiled
down to Shula getting hurt. But getting hurt in the most horrific ways
possible.

Jared:
I fear that I will die trying to protect
you and then you will be vulnerable to him. You will be trapped. And he will
make you live for as long as he can.

Shula:
And I won’t want to live.

Jared:
You won’t want to live.

Shula:
But not while I’m here.

Jared took a
deep breath.

Jared:
Not while you’re there.

It confused
her a little. It was already established that she would rather die than be with
James Agnesson. But she never anticipated Jared. Nor had she ever had anyone to
protect her. The sound of her mother’s body hitting the floor after the gunshot
moved itself front and center in her thoughts, and she finally admitted to
herself that maybe there was more to the story.

It seemed
unlikely that both of her parents killed themselves. And her father had been so
horrible to her. He’d barely spoke a word to her for as long as she’d been
there, but the day of her wedding, she’d found out what he’d really felt about
her.

He’d believed
for nearly two decades that his wife was unfaithful and birthed another man’s
baby. He succumbed to such madness.

Shula:
Why did Father keep me when I was 16?
Wouldn’t it make since to be rid of me as soon as he could?

Jared frowned.

Jared:
To take over your mother’s chores?

Shula:
But he hated me. And it’s not like he
couldn’t have old Mrs. Lionel or someone from church to do mother’s chores.

Jared:
I imagine he hated Father more. Making
things inconvenient would be all he had left to do.

Shula:
But I was meant to marry you. How would
that be inconvenient to the contract? Your father was occupied by the death of
his own young bride. Anna’s death would’ve distracted him, I would think.

Jared:
I don’t really understand your father’s
motivations. All I can think is that he was exercising the only power he had
left. And that was control over you.

Shula was
feeling out of sorts. The information was confusing and she didn’t like the
answers not being freely available.

Shula:
If we had married then, how would it be?
Would we feel the same about each other as we do now?

Jared thought
back to two years ago. Had it really been that long since Anna’s death? He was
such a different person then.

Jared:
It’s hard to say. You would be mourning
your mother, and I would be mourning Anna. I was already in Austin. I don’t
know, Shula. It was a bad time. But it seems to always be one if Father’s
involved. I like to think that we would’ve eventually found the people we are
now.

Shula:
I guess it’s silly to speculate. If I
could do it over again, I’d choose this. I can’t imagine my heart being held
any other way, except by who you are now.

There was
nothing Jared could say that could match that. But it deserved to be
recognized.

Jared:
I hold it close.

The next
morning, Shula asked Raphe how to keep her messages for safekeeping. She didn’t
hear the implication until it left her mouth.

 “Why you
greedy
‒
”

“Raphe!”

“I wasn't
going to call her a cunt, Sweets. That's my special name for you. I was going
to call her...something else. Probably.”

“What?”

“Well, you've
made me forget, haven't you?”

LXXVII

Jacob Agnesson worked at the
International Bank of Texas in Austin. He worked with old families with even
older assets.

He has
several different types of forms to file on any given day, but ten to one, he
was verifying new wills, and destroying old ones.

He hadn’t
expected to see a new one from his father.

Jacob hadn’t
spoken to his father in years. After he had announced that his new bride was the
same age as Jude, Jacob decided to keep his family away once and for all.

He suspected
that his father had compromised his own wife before he married her. Miriam
always behaved with fear around his father, but refused to talk about him.

Jacob and
Miriam barely spoke to each other as it was. Even after five years and two
children with one on the way, they weren’t friends. She does her duties as
she’d been raised to do, and he provided all the rest.

He, Miriam,
and the children would visit soon. Maybe he would see if Jonah wanted to take a
trip home and meet their Father’s pregnant bride. The woman set to inherit all
of the Agnesson lands still in their Father’s name.

Jacob didn’t
want any of it.

Josiah’s
hands shook as he dropped the photo. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to read the
accompanying letter. Even if it were written in grace, he was too ashamed to
face the elders of the church he loved so dearly.

And Father.

“Wow. So they
sent someone here to check on you? That’s shitty. You have an easy out, though.”

Josiah looked
up and saw Eve smiling at the picture. “You would marry me?”

She looked up
at him. “Can’t you tell them we already are? And maybe scold them for taking
private photos of your wife when the intent was just to slander you?”

“You would go
back with me as my wife?”

“Oh no.
That’s never going to happen.”

“But you
said…”

“Yes. For you
to write them back and chastise them.”

“They’ll want
me to come back home and to bring you.”

“And like I
said, that’s never going to happen. We’ve discussed this.”

“I would
protect you.”

“Protect me
from who, Josiah? From what? Could you protect me from you?”

“From your
sins.”

Eve wasn’t
going to stay one more night with him. She rarely feared a man, but she was
beginning to understand what that felt like. She knew he couldn’t drag her to
Texas, but he could do plenty if he were desperate, and she was starting to see
that he was.

LXXVIII

Jared turned off all the
lights around the perimeter of the house. They wanted to see if James would go
searching for a grave.

Jude noticed
the light flickering along the ground, and he and Jared grabbed their guns and
slowly followed their father.

They watched
him dig a hole. They watched him pull a box out, and fill the hole again.

Jared aimed
his rifle at his father. He was going to reveal that he’d been watched, but
instead, they watched as he walked toward the cabin. There was no reason for
him to be going there, except to do them harm.

 They watched
as he sat the box down behind a tree before walking towards the back of the
house.

Jared kept
his aim. “What are you doing, Father?”

James stopped
walking and turned around slowly. He didn’t speak, but he did walk towards his
son with no fear. He didn’t have any visible weapons, so Jared wasn’t prepared
when his father lurched forward slashing whatever he could reach, particularly
from temple to jaw on Jared’s face.

Jared tried
to wrestle the knife from his father, and it sent them both falling into the
hole that Jared hadn’t filled back up.

Blood had
filled his vision and adrenaline surged, and he could hear his father begging
until his hands around his neck effectively shut him up.

Jude grabbed
Jared from behind, and pulled him off of their father. “Let him go, Jared. He
isn’t breathing.”

It took a
moment to realize what Jude had said, and his face began to burn with pain. He
was a mess, but he let Jude help him out of the bed he’d made for Shula and
him, had they needed it.

“We need to
look in that box,” Jared said as they looked down at their unconscious father.

“I will. Keep
an eye on him.”

The blood
rushing was quieter, so he could hear Jude in the background, but his eyes
never left the hole.

“It’s bones.
Of a fucking baby. Christ.”

“We’ll bury
it where Mother buried Josephine. We need to take Father back to Sophia. Might
need to call someone. I don’t know what Sophia would want.” Jared wiped his
face with the filthy sleeve of his shirt. But the blood was already clotting.

It was
arduous, but they dragged him out and threw him in the back of the truck.
Sophia was waiting on the porch. “Is he dead?”

“No,” Jared
didn’t sound happy about it.

They managed
to get him in the house and onto the bed in the guest bedroom.

His body
began to seize, and he was unconscious once more.

Sophia didn’t
ask what happened, but she reminded Jared that his face needed seeing to. As
she cleaned the cut on his face, and applied a liquid bandage, she told the
boys that she would call Austin for a specialist to come out and see what was
wrong. She would also call Mrs. Lionel to take care of him, because she was
always asking how she could help make things easier for Sophia.

“Is that dirt
you are all covered with? It’s black. And it’s everywhere,” Sophia said with a
frown and looked toward the bed. “James has it all down his front.”

Jared looked
down at himself and realized what had happened. He let out a near-hysterical
laugh. “It’s Josephine. Ellen mailed me half her ashes. Because she didn’t want
me to have to drive all the way up to retrieve them. They were in my pocket. I
was going to bury them with Mother.”

Jared was
surprised how warm his tears were, and as they fell, black and bloody, he was
reminded of Shula, and what she had planned to do.

“We will bury
your shirt, then. And your father’s. It’s fitting, I think.” It was a bit
morbid, but it would be something James would hate. “Go home, bag the shirt,
and get clean. Don’t ignore your face. I will call you in the morning.”

Sophia
ushered them out with such speed that they were convinced she’d put a pillow
over his face as soon as they left.

The next
morning, Sophia called the boys. James had extensive liver and kidney damage,
his esophagus was in shreds, and his brain had been deprived of oxygen. He was
lucid, but immobile. Though his lucid moments wouldn’t last long. Nor was he
long for the world.

She told them
it was time to bring everyone home.

LXXIX

Raphe heard the chime of an
incoming message from the laptop and telephone. He didn't want to miss it if
Jude ever needed anything. It chimed twice more as he sat up.

Jude:
I'm here.

Jude:
Or I'm there, rather.

Jude:
Unlock the door.

Raphe didn't
even bother with clothes. He sprinted to the door, and as soon as he opened it,
Jude had him in his grip, and their mouths met desperately.

Raphe heard
the door lock and he broke away from Jude's mouth. Jared was pointing at the
stairs with a question in his eyes. “I don't want to alarm Clara.”

Jude was
taking gasping breaths against his neck and Raphe was fucking naked, but he
tried to comprehend what Jared was asking. “Uh. Hm. On the right. Second door.”
He didn't hear Jared's 'thanks' or him climb the stairs.

He did hear
the rustle of a shirt being pulled over Jude's head, but his jeans were nearly
silent as they hit the floor. Raphe kissed him again. “How long?”

Jude exhaled.
“Forever.”

“He’s dead?”

“As good as.”

Raphe slumped
and was overcome with a very unfamiliar feeling, but Jude was smiling. “Now, I
want you to fuck my wife and I want to watch.”

“Any requests?”

Jude pressed
Raphe up against the counter. “I want you to make love to her like you did your
first time.”

Raphe
laughed. “I hate to break it to you, but she did most of the work for that.”

Jude took a
step back. “That
harlot!”

Raphe stepped
forward and grabbed his hand. “Like that’s not all your fault, sodomizing her
on your wedding night. What do you think happens to girls when you fuck their
ass on the same night they lose their virginity? They turn into harlots.”

Jude was
still surprised and a little scandalized that Clara had done most of the work
and he wanted to watch. He let Raphe drag him up the stairs.