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possibly say would help the situation, and there’s no way I’d be able to keep a steady voice anyway.
    “Well, it might happen soon anyway, even if my beloved father doesn’t have a… let’s just call it a revelation , shall we? A revelation about my dear uncle and his good friend Joshua.” Jeremiah’s lust rolls over me in waves even stronger and more disgusting than his fetid breath. I close my eyes, unable to look at his predatory grin any longer. He snakes a strong hand behind my head, locking his fingers tightly, painfully in my hair.
    “The Lord has commanded us to be fruitful and multiply,” he says, in a flinty, hard-edged voice. “The Lord is patient, but he will not tolerate your disobedience much longer, and he will reveal his disappointment in you to my father. And on that day, you will be mine .”
    My back is against the wall, and Jeremiah presses close against me, crushing my breasts between us, grinding his crotch against my belly and hip. I push him away, slipping to the side and cross shaking arms over my breasts as much to steady the trembling as to cover myself. Having him so close leaves me feeling dirty, and I feel a wave of nausea rising. Jeremiah cocks his hips, and the motion draws my eyes. I can’t not see the obscene bulge there, and his pleasure as my face twists in revulsion is the final straw.
    Jeremiah jumps back as I retch, grabbing at a bucket by the sink and pushing it in front of me just in time. I drop to my knees in front of it, vomiting again and again until there’s nothing left but sour bile.
    When I’m through, Jeremiah gently helps me to my feet and gives me a glass of water.
    “Thank you,” I say. My voice is raw. It hurts to talk but I still have to ask. “Why are you being nice to me now?”
    “Because you’re going to be my beloved wife, soon, and I… I don’t want you to be unhappy.” There’s something new on his face now, overlaying the lust and anticipation. It’s something softer, something I’ve never seen on his face before. Something that on any other person I’d say was—sincerity? No. No way.
    “So, what, this is your way of wooing me?” Disbelief shocks me into unwise boldness. “By threatening my husband? By threatening me? You think you can terrify me into falling in love with you?” Jeremiah’s face stiffens. “I will never marry you, Jeremiah. Never .”
    “You,” he says, his voice coldly furious, “will submit to The Lord’s Will, which will be revealed to His prophet.”
    “Not if it’s His Will that I submit to you ,” I hiss at him, turning my back on him and striding toward the kitchen’s back door. I know that antagonizing him is a dangerous mistake, potentially even deadly, and I need to get away before I make my situation worse. I’ve seen how vicious Jeremiah turns when he doesn’t get what he wants, and right now he wants me .
    I tense up as I hear his quick footsteps behind me, flinching away to avoid the hand I just know will reach out to grab me, but not quickly enough. Jeremiah’s hand lands on my arm, his grip on my sleeve spins me around while he pushes me backwards. My back is against the wall again, and Jeremiah crushes me against it, pressing his vile mouth against mine as if he wants to eat me alive. Without thinking, I push him away with all my strength and he falls back on the floor.
    If looks could kill, I would be a bleeding corpse, but Jeremiah’s eyes slide past me and the rage on his face stills in an instant as if it had never existed. My back is to the door, but I don’t need to turn around. There’s only one person who can leash the mad dog.
    My only question is how long has he been standing here.
    “What’s happening?” Father Emmanuel asks in the warm, sweetly seductive tone he uses to make new converts. It drips with honey and molasses, so sweet I always hope they will realize he’s a phony.
    Jeremiah eyes dart from his father to me and back as he slowly gets up. Like me, he must be