Page 6 of Condemned to You

“The Lord is good.”

“All the time.”

I heaved a sigh of relief. It was our secret code that I used to enquire if my sister was alright. Father Joel was an old friend of mine growing up. He chose a morally just path compared to mine. As a priest, he held his vow of secrecy. From Father Joel’s response I felt a calmness knowing that Cassie was okay.

“I have prayed like you asked me to Father, yet nothing. Did the Lord speak to you about me?”

“He wants you to cast your burdens on Him because He cares for you always. No matter what it is that troubles you, you will find comfort under his wings. That’s what the Bible said.”

Another good news. Cassie was laying low due to the recent happenings. That was what he meant by “finding comfort under his wings.” It was the best thing to do at least until the dust settled. He was also letting me know that there might be a breach in communication and I might not get any messages from my sister for a while since she was transferring to another hiding spot.

“I’m having trouble praying Father. My faith is testing me.”

“Even though the devil is prowling around looking for whom to devour, you must hold fast to your faith. God always gives his children a second chance. After Nathan condemned David for stealing the most cherished lamb of a poor man, God still offered him a shot at redemption.”

The code for Bethany was “Lamb” and he was telling me that she was attempting to overcome personal struggles. There was only so much Father Joel was able to get on Bethany. The only reason he had intel on Bethany was from Nicoletta, her mother, who spoke to Father Joel on a weekly basis – almost using him like a therapist. I’d been able to keep tabs on the family so well because I knew every place they went and everyone they interacted with.

“I’ll pray harder Father.”

“The Lord blesses you.”

Tossing the phone back on the counter, I grabbed the drink I had poured for myself. Raising up a glass as though I had company, I cheered and saluted, “Happy Birthday Bethany.”

The feel of Brennivín coats my mouth and I swallow it without a flinch. I wasn’t a fan of the liquor here but I wasn’t looking to be picky tonight. Opting to lose the cup, I grabbed the bottle of clear spirit and walked back outside. This time I grabbed a jacket. Sitting on the chair taking swigs of what the Icelandic natives here called the Black Death, I stared up at the sky. A mix of cigarette smoke and my breath swirled in the air around me as I adored the Northern Lights, casting a green light across the dark night sky. If my apartment wasn’t located in a more isolated area, I might not be able to see them with the cast of city lights, but out here where it was dark, you see them so clearly. I sat in the dark in complete silence. The more I looked at those green lights the more I saw her in my mind. It happened all the time. Bethany was everywhere I looked, and if it wasn’t something that reminded me of her then it was the yearning to want her beside me as I explored this land.

Iceland was a land of breathtaking contrasts, where fiery volcanoes rose next to glacial ice, and cascading waterfalls tumbled into serene lakes. Its rugged landscapes, adorned with black sand beaches, moss-covered lava fields, and the ethereal dance of the Northern Lights, created a visual symphony that captivated the soul. The beauty of Iceland was raw and majestic, a canvas painted by the forces of nature, evoking wonder and reverence with every vista. Yet, even in the shadow of such grandeur, my love stood apart. Bethany’s beauty was not defined by towering peaks or shimmering glaciers; it radiated from a deeper place. It was in the warmth of her smile, the kindness in her gaze, and the laughter that filled the air when she was near. While Iceland’s sights were breathtaking, they were a fleeting experience, a moment captured in time. Iceland might boast of nature's magnificence, but my heart knew that true beauty lay in the connection, the shared moments, and the depth of emotion that my love embodied for Bethany . Her beauty was not just seen but felt, a profound resonance that lingered long after the sights had faded from view. So, while Iceland enchanted the eye, it was Bethany who captured the heart, reminding me that beauty could be both grand and intimate, and that my soul's true landscape was shaped by my love for her.

Shaking my head to try and get the vision of her out of my mind, I got to my feet and headed inside. The apartment felt cold from the lack of personalization compared to my place back home in Chicago. I didn’t have it in me, I just didn’t care. Undressing myself as I headed into the shower, my skin tingled as images of a naked Bethany in my bed flashed in my mind. By the time I was in the shower, my dick was as hard as a rock. The hot water flowed down my back as I leaned on the wall with one hand while the other was placed on my shaft. Closing my eyes, I envisioned those emerald eyes, blond hair, and perfect naked body tied up. Those long legs spread open showcasing her pussy. Stroking my shaft as water poured over me, I envisioned exactly what I would do to her. So vivid in my mind, my heart began to beat faster and the head of my dick became increasingly sensitive. Picturing her body twitching beneath me and her cries of pleasure, a tingling sensation through my body became more intense until the contractions inside my cock pushed my semen toward the head. Right as I ejaculated, I heard Bethany’s orgasm ring through my ears as if it were actually happening causing me to let out a cry of my own.

My mind went blank as I rested my head on the wall in front of me, giving me a sense of relaxation and calmness before I came to my senses and opened my eyes to see I was alone in the shower with my limp dick in my hand and my cum all over the wall. I laughed to myself thinking how different my life had become and whether it was worth it to continue living. No job, no woman, no status. I was a nobody – something I thought would never happen again.

Getting out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around my waist and lay in bed staring at the ceiling as my mind rewinded to the men who saved my ass 3 months ago. It bothered me I couldn’t figure out who they were and how they were able to execute their plan of taking me. It dawned on me at the airport when I was walking to my gate that those men knew I’d be in that car and knew they were saving me. How would they know that? Why would they know that? And what did they want with me? Whatever those reasons were, I wasn’t going to be a pawn in someone’s game. My goal was to stay alive and figure out how to reunite with my sister safely.

But even a puzzle like that wasn’t enough to distract my mind for long from Bethany. I had gotten myself a burner phone of my own while here just as a precaution. I grabbed it from the dresser beside me and stared at it. I knew it was wrong and the likelihood of getting caught was high but fuck it. Things couldn’t get worse than they were now. Before being able to talk myself out of it, I already dialed the number and when I heard the sound of her voice, my body tingled.

“Hello.”

“Happy birthday sweetheart.”

Chapter Six

Bethany POV

I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling; another day to survive – ugh. I was still mourning the loss of a man I loved while the man I was married to had no idea. Turning on my side, I faced my husband who was peacefully asleep. How little he knew about what had been going on the last three months. Since my brother killed Emilio, my depression had gotten so bad I’d been put on suicide watch. My own husband, who thought it was due to failed pregnancy attempts, agreed with my brother that someone should be with me at all times.

As I watched Pio slowly wake up, I put on a fake smile.

“Morning,” he said. Pulling me into a cuddle as he rolled on top of me. His morning cock as stiff as ever placed in between my legs. “Happy birthday.”

Right. Happy birthday to me. He kissed my neck as I remained still, mentally cringing at his touch. Pio was a good-looking man, but he wasn’t Emilio. From the beginning of our arrangement, I’d learned to not pull away from his touch or to appear grossed out when he wanted to be intimate.

I felt him pull up my silk cami as his hands roamed my body. Eventually, he used one hand to pull his erection out of his boxers and then one of his fingers to move my panties out of the way so that the tip of his cock could rub against my opening. The only thing getting me through it was picturing him being Emilio. Closing my eyes, I pictured one of the many moments Emilio sent waves of pleasure through my body so that I was ready to receive my husband.

One minute and 10 seconds of happiness. As good as it was, whenever I’d open my eyes and see Pio instead of Emilio, the sadness flooded back in as it always did making me feel worse.

Pio rolled off me and got out of bed. “How did you sleep?”

“Better,” I lied sitting up, throwing the Egyptian cotton sheets off of me.