Page 3 of Malachi
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the house of the Lord our God to witness…”
The Reverend’s voice rambled on, fading into the background of my mind as I tuned him out just enough to get through this ceremony. It sickened me that at one time in my life; I had looked up to the man. Hell, I had strived to be like him. Just like him.
As a child, I had wanted nothing more than to be a Reverend, to be a staple in the community, a pillar of Godliness shepherding his flock the way Jesus had done all those centuries ago. Christ, how my world had changed since then.
“Do you Malachi Temple, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, in…” the Reverend continued, drawing my attention back to the ceremony at hand. I looked down at the tiny hands I held. A child’s hands. I felt sick.
“I do,” I spoke clearly.
“Do you, Eden Cantor, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to obey till death do you part?” The Reverend continued. My attention was drawn to my bride. Her hands shook in my grasp. I could hear her rapid breathing, as though she were on the verge of panic. I felt the same. So fucking much the same.
“I do.” Her tiny voice trembled as she spoke.
The Reverend spoke about the importance of godliness in a marriage, preaching to the congregation as I tuned him out yet again. In what felt like mere moments, but was likely several minutes knowing Reverend Jacob’s propensity for rambling, the sermon was over and I was instructed to lift my new bride’s veil.
I lifted the fabric slowly, almost afraid to reveal to myself just exactly who I had just agreed to marry. Her face came into view, showing me deep tawny skin, looking almost golden in the sun’s fading light. Her eyes were downcast as I moved the long lace veil behind her head as gracefully as I could manage.
“You may kiss your bride,” the Reverend announced with far too much pride and joy laced in his boisterous voice. I leaned forward, clenching my teeth as my stomach threatened to revolt at the thought of kissing a mere child. Her eyelashes fluttered, and she looked up at me for the first time.
Christ Almighty.
With her dark raven hair and her golden skin, I had expected her eyes to mirror my own brown coloration. But what I saw shocked me. Her eyes were such a vibrant blue, they were almost purple.
“Ahem.” the Reverend cleared his throat, drawing my attention again. It looked as though I was stalling to any onlooker there in the church, when in reality I was shocked into motionlessness by this slip of a girl I had just wed.
“You may kiss your bride, Mr. Temple,” the Reverend repeated. With all the gentleness I could muster, I let my lips press against hers in the briefest of kisses. I ignored the tingling sensation the brief touch of her lips left on mine.
Cheers and well-wishes rang out through the congregation as the Reverend announced us officially husband and wife both in the eyes of the law and in the eyes of the Lord. With her arm wrapped around my elbow, I led her out of the sanctuary to the small foyer. I knew from my brothers’ warnings that we only had a moment before they led us to that dreaded room downstairs.
As the doors to the sanctuary closed, giving us a mere moment together, I turned to her.
And suddenly, I did not know what to say. I wasn’t good at this part. Even with my brothers’ advice.
“Are you alright?” I asked her quietly. She looked up at me with eyes wide as saucers, a look of pure innocence shining back at me. That look made me feel even more like a goddamn pedophile than this whole charade already had.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” she answered, her voice tinkling sweetly, like birdsong.
“Anything that happens after this —” I began, stopping just as quickly as words failed me. “What I mean is, I want you to know that what’s about to happen is —” I stammered once again, lamely.
“I trust you, husband,” she said sweetly, her other hand coming to rest on my arm.
Fuck, I was going to hell for this. Regardless of my good intent, I was absolutely, without a doubt, damned to hell. There were no worse words she could have said to me at that moment.
She trusted me. It was a trust that was definitely misplaced. She should trust no one in this godforsaken place. No one. Not one soul. Not even me.
“You shouldn’t trust me,” I bit out through clenched teeth. Her eyes widened in confusion, and then she did the damnedest thing. She smiled.
“Congratulations to the newlyweds!” Father’s voice rang out as the doors to the sanctuary burst open, halting our interaction abruptly. Several Elders flooded out, and suddenly we were being guided down the hallway towards the back staircase.
Her arm wrapped around mine as we headed down into the belly of the beast, her tiny hand clutching at my forearm. Christ, she was small, just a tiny slip of a thing, which made the situation that much worse. I thought I could fool myself by waiting until she had at least turned eighteen. I had thought that would be enough. But I was wrong. So horrendously wrong.
It was exactly as my brothers had said. They led us down the stairs and then down another hallway towards the back of the church. The fellowship hall was directly above this room, if the sounds of stomping and likely dancing above were anything to go by. I could feel myself go on high alert, much like I did in the woods. I was a hunter, an outdoorsman. Just like in the woods, my senses took over, listening to every footstep as the Elders entered the room.
I could smell the stench of men as the room filled with more and more bodies. Five. Ten. Then a dozen of them all congregated in the small space. I could feel the temperature of the room rise degree by degree as the space filled.
I was used to being the hunter, but in this room, I was the animal they toyed with for sport. I was the prey, and I didn’t like it. Not one bit.
“Ah, everyone is here. Let us begin,” the Reverend’s voice boomed as he joined us, shutting the door shut soundly behind him, the lock clicking into place. The tiny sound was like a gunshot to my ears, the tumblers moving as he barricaded us from escape. I looked down at my young bride, her innocence clear in the soft smile playing at her lips. Her face showed no sign of worry or fear. Much like a rabbit who had just stepped into a trap. That singular moment before the trap triggered, and the animal discovered its own mortality.
