Creed by Trisha Leaver Page B

wandering eyes and guessed what I was thinking. “It’s not the locks you need to be worried about.”
    I ignored his warning and got up to test my balance, half expecting to topple over from the blood loss. I didn’t, which meant I’d probably been out of it longer than I wanted to know.
    I moved toward the door, and Joseph placed himself squarely between me and my escape route. “What I meant was that the door isn’t locked, but it would be a bad idea to try to walk out. Believe me, you won’t get more than five feet down that hall before he sees you.”
    I looked up. No cameras, no blinking red lights, and no strange men peering in the window. Which meant whoever he was, he was waiting outside that door. S’okay, I’d deal with him too.
    “Mm hmm,” I said as I did a quick sweep of the room for my shoes and socks. My bare feet were freezing, and if I had a prayer of escaping, I’d need them.
    Joseph’s hand was on my shoulder in an instant, his eyes dark. Troubled. He pulled back quickly, like a man who’d touched a hot coal. “I’m serious. The only reason you’re conscious now is because I agreed to stay here and keep watch over you. He would’ve made me keep bleeding you if he’d had his way. I’m supposed to keep you from walking into the chapel or making contact with anyone else until I’ve had a chance to explain things to you. Until he can see for himself that you understand your new role here.” He maneuvered me back toward the bed. “Please, Dee, sit back down.”
    I tried to yank myself free from his grip, but Joseph was every bit as strong as he looked. Maybe stronger. “So you’re the only reason I’m conscious?” I yelled. “That’s ironic, considering you’re the one that bled me in the first place!” I stumbled backward as he released his hold, then snatched my shoes and socks from beneath the bed and jammed my feet into them. “And explain what to me?”
    “I don’t know … things . And I didn’t want it to be this way,” Joseph whispered, his attention darting nervously be-tween me and the door. “There wasn’t a choice.”
    “Who are you trying to kid? You had a dozen other choices. Dozens! And you made the wrong one.”
    “I made the only choice that would save my sister.”
    “Whatever,” I said, completely uninterested in debating the morality of kidnapping. “Where are Luke and Mike?” I hoped they were in the next town by now, telling the police all about the Purity Springs and their community of deranged freaks.
    Joseph’s voice was so low, so quiet I had to strain to make out his words. “I already told you, they’re not here.”
    I racked my brain for any bit of useless information, anything that might help me get out or make contact with Luke. I knew what to do if the man with razors on his hands attacked me in my dreams. I could tell you which way to run if an awkward kid rose from the lake, fully grown and wearing a hockey mask. I was even prepared to get off the damn plane when seven random kids from some stupid French class went nuts over the fear of it crashing. But I had no idea what to do when faced with a self-proclaimed prophet and his entire batshit town.
    The sound of a door opening and closing outside my room interrupted my thoughts, and Joseph shoved me toward the bed. “Take your shoes off and get back into bed,” he hissed. “Now!”
    I half-debated staying right there to meet his father, but I didn’t get a chance. Joseph shoved me again, harder this time, and I fell onto the bed. I fought him as he went to pull the quilt over me. Eventually he gave up and left me there, my shoes hanging off my feet, my legs tangled in the quilt.

SIXTEEN
    The door swung open and a middle-aged man walked in. He was holding a tray of food and an oversized manila envelope. With a head of graying hair, glasses, and deep smile lines around his eyes, he looked like half the dads I’d seen at school. Just as benign, too.
    He closed the door quickly,