Deep Redemption
Page 86
He’d come to celebrate his victory of breaking me . . . then I’d take him down.
Brother Stephen appeared at the doorway, a cloth in his hand. “Are you ready?” he asked.
I nodded. “You have the chloroform?”
“Yes,” he replied and held up the white rag. I had been amazed at what the defectors had managed to smuggle in from Puerto Rico. “Cain . . . maybe it is best if we . . . take him out now . . . permanently.”
His suggestion immediately filled me with such emotion I could barely breathe. I shook my head. “If we want the Hangmen onside, we need to keep him alive. He is the leverage. Believe me, there are more than just us who want him dead.” Inhaling, I said, “Keep him sedated. Make sure he looks like me. I will convince the Hangmen to return before the four days of the celestial cleansing are over. No one should look for him in that time. And I can come back in and free the people. I will assure the guards and people that I have exorcised the devil from Harmony in record time and that she is resting. They’ll be too blinded by my success to doubt me . . . at least for the time we will need for everything to work.” I sighed. “I will order the people to the far side of the commune, where they will be safe. I will gather the guards and elders somewhere the Hangmen can find them.” My jaw clenched. “Then I will hand Judah to them too. They will take it from there.”
Brother Stephen nodded.
“Are you sure you all want to do this?” I asked. “It’s risky. So many things could go wrong. Are you prepared for the punishment that could fall on you if we fail?”
“I am ready. I am ready to die if that should happen too.” He gave me a watery smile. “I have failed my daughters too many times to count. I will not fail this time.”
“And Sister Ruth?” I said. Something flashed behind Brother Stephen’s eyes at the question “She has her reasons to fight too. She is ready for whatever the stars have planned for us.”
I heard the sound of people approaching outside. Brother Stephen met my eyes, silently wishing me luck. He shut the door, and I moved to the corner of the room. I waited.
The door burst open and, without looking up, I could sense it was my brother. Slowly, I lifted my head. Judah glared at me through narrowed eyes, his arms crossed over his chest. He was dressed in his wedding tunic. I was relieved. So far the plan was working.
“Judah,” I whispered, ensuring my voice was raw and vulnerable. “Thank you for coming.”
Judah didn’t say anything at first. When I shifted to my knees, Judah staggered back. But I kept my head down and gradually lifted my hand. This was how our scholar had always told us to greet my uncle. It showed his supremacy over us all.
Our submission.
A long breath escaped Judah’s mouth. I almost screamed as I recognized that sound of victory. I had told Judah so many times in our lives that he let his pride blur his vision, govern his choices.
It was what I relied on for this moment.
His hand reached out and landed on my head. For a moment, feeling his touch, my confidence waned. But I closed my eyes tightly and brought Harmony’s brave yet fearful face to mind.
I had to do this for her.
“You have chosen to repent?” Judah asked.
“Yes,” I replied. “I want to repent for doubting our ways . . . I . . . I have thought and thought of what I have done to you, to our people. And I cannot . . . I cannot . . . ” I let my words fade on a choked cry.
“Look up,” Judah commanded.
I lifted my head. I studied Judah’s face, his hair. I drank in how he was wearing his tunic. Everything I possibly could. “My brother,” I whispered, forcing tears to my eyes. “My prophet.”
Judah’s eyes flared at my reverence, and his hand tightened in my hair. He kneeled down, placing his face directly in front of mine. Judah’s hand drifted down my face then fell to land on my shoulder. My chest squeezed as he touched me. But all I could think of was what Sister Ruth had made me realize days ago.
Judah had never cared for me.
This act of affection was all for power. Everything he did was calculated. Measured for his optimum gain.
Nothing was pure in his soul . . . not anymore.
“I have missed you, brother,” he said, and a smile formed on his lips. “When I was told you wanted to repent, I had to come and see you. I never wanted to hurt you, brother. But I had no choice. You pushed my hand.”
“I know that now. I understand.”
His head tilted to the side. “And you will adhere to our practices?”
Brother Stephen appeared at the doorway, a cloth in his hand. “Are you ready?” he asked.
I nodded. “You have the chloroform?”
“Yes,” he replied and held up the white rag. I had been amazed at what the defectors had managed to smuggle in from Puerto Rico. “Cain . . . maybe it is best if we . . . take him out now . . . permanently.”
His suggestion immediately filled me with such emotion I could barely breathe. I shook my head. “If we want the Hangmen onside, we need to keep him alive. He is the leverage. Believe me, there are more than just us who want him dead.” Inhaling, I said, “Keep him sedated. Make sure he looks like me. I will convince the Hangmen to return before the four days of the celestial cleansing are over. No one should look for him in that time. And I can come back in and free the people. I will assure the guards and people that I have exorcised the devil from Harmony in record time and that she is resting. They’ll be too blinded by my success to doubt me . . . at least for the time we will need for everything to work.” I sighed. “I will order the people to the far side of the commune, where they will be safe. I will gather the guards and elders somewhere the Hangmen can find them.” My jaw clenched. “Then I will hand Judah to them too. They will take it from there.”
Brother Stephen nodded.
“Are you sure you all want to do this?” I asked. “It’s risky. So many things could go wrong. Are you prepared for the punishment that could fall on you if we fail?”
“I am ready. I am ready to die if that should happen too.” He gave me a watery smile. “I have failed my daughters too many times to count. I will not fail this time.”
“And Sister Ruth?” I said. Something flashed behind Brother Stephen’s eyes at the question “She has her reasons to fight too. She is ready for whatever the stars have planned for us.”
I heard the sound of people approaching outside. Brother Stephen met my eyes, silently wishing me luck. He shut the door, and I moved to the corner of the room. I waited.
The door burst open and, without looking up, I could sense it was my brother. Slowly, I lifted my head. Judah glared at me through narrowed eyes, his arms crossed over his chest. He was dressed in his wedding tunic. I was relieved. So far the plan was working.
“Judah,” I whispered, ensuring my voice was raw and vulnerable. “Thank you for coming.”
Judah didn’t say anything at first. When I shifted to my knees, Judah staggered back. But I kept my head down and gradually lifted my hand. This was how our scholar had always told us to greet my uncle. It showed his supremacy over us all.
Our submission.
A long breath escaped Judah’s mouth. I almost screamed as I recognized that sound of victory. I had told Judah so many times in our lives that he let his pride blur his vision, govern his choices.
It was what I relied on for this moment.
His hand reached out and landed on my head. For a moment, feeling his touch, my confidence waned. But I closed my eyes tightly and brought Harmony’s brave yet fearful face to mind.
I had to do this for her.
“You have chosen to repent?” Judah asked.
“Yes,” I replied. “I want to repent for doubting our ways . . . I . . . I have thought and thought of what I have done to you, to our people. And I cannot . . . I cannot . . . ” I let my words fade on a choked cry.
“Look up,” Judah commanded.
I lifted my head. I studied Judah’s face, his hair. I drank in how he was wearing his tunic. Everything I possibly could. “My brother,” I whispered, forcing tears to my eyes. “My prophet.”
Judah’s eyes flared at my reverence, and his hand tightened in my hair. He kneeled down, placing his face directly in front of mine. Judah’s hand drifted down my face then fell to land on my shoulder. My chest squeezed as he touched me. But all I could think of was what Sister Ruth had made me realize days ago.
Judah had never cared for me.
This act of affection was all for power. Everything he did was calculated. Measured for his optimum gain.
Nothing was pure in his soul . . . not anymore.
“I have missed you, brother,” he said, and a smile formed on his lips. “When I was told you wanted to repent, I had to come and see you. I never wanted to hurt you, brother. But I had no choice. You pushed my hand.”
“I know that now. I understand.”
His head tilted to the side. “And you will adhere to our practices?”
