Sins of Sevin - Penelope Ward Page 0,1
found us in here.
With each thrust, though, I was reminded of why I kept coming back for more with Candace. In the small time we were in here, I could close my eyes and pretend that she was someone else, someone that meant something. I liked pretending that I was wanted, that I was loved by someone important. In reality, she was using me just as much as I was using her. But for someone who grew up without any kind of affection, sex was the closest thing I had to love, the closest thing to a connection with another human being. Unlike real love, which usually ended in pain, no one had to get hurt in this situation. When we walked out of here, it was like it never happened.
The other reason I kept doing this: it was simply exhilarating. Doing something I knew was wrong was addicting. That was the problem with me. Acting badly always gave me a high even from a very young age. At twenty, you’d think I would have had the highest morals given my sheltered upbringing. But with me, it all backfired.
Growing up, I was the kid who collected the money in church only to take a handful for myself out of the donation basket to go buy cigarettes. I was the boy who would go back to my room after a Bible lesson about lust only to jerk off to the Playboy magazine hidden under my bed. I guess I’ve always been a sinner by nature. But these encounters with Candace were definitely a new low.
“Shit. Sevin. Harder!” she moaned.
The sound of police sirens on the street outside the hall vaguely registered. I pumped into her with all my might until she let out a familiar muffled scream, her mouth against the wall. That was when I let myself come.
Soon after, the coldness of reality would slowly seep in as we rushed to put on our clothes in order to get back to the church service before it ended. Soon enough, people would be filling this room faster than I’d filled Candace.
She fastened her last button, licked her lips and said, “My beautiful boy. Thank you so much. That was amazing.”
What had felt so good just seconds ago now made me feel sick.
The next fifteen minutes were spent doing what we were supposedly here for, setting up the tables and chairs.
The commotion in the church upon our return was a shock to my system. People were rushing around flustered. Bright red lights from emergency vehicles flashed through the stained glass windows.
My stepmother was wailing in a corner while my half-brothers attempted to hold her limp body up.
What was happening?
I spotted paramedics hovered over someone. It took me a few seconds to realize it was my father.
Preacher Thomas rushed toward me, stopping me from moving any further. “Sevin…son. I’m so sorry. Your father…he collapsed in the middle of service. The paramedics just confirmed that they couldn’t save him. He’s no longer breathing. He’s gone to be with the Heavenly Father.”
No.
No.
No.
My father was gone?
It felt surreal. Amidst my shock, all I could think about was the fact that eventually your sins catch up with you. Bad things happen to bad people. Dad was a good person. He didn’t deserve this. But I did. This was my punishment, and it was a long time coming.
Candace stood frozen with her hands over her mouth.
“I’m so sorry,” the preacher repeated.
I looked him in the eyes and stood there speechless. I wanted to tell him that he shouldn’t be sorry for me. I was the sorry one. This was my fault. Because while my father lay dying, I was next door fucking the preacher’s wife.
CHAPTER 2
SEVIN
The month that followed my father’s death was torturous. Being left alone in the house with my stepmother and half-brothers became a situation I needed to get myself out of. I just didn’t have an exit strategy yet. I’d been saving the wages I’d earned from working a maintenance job at the town stables, hoping to put myself through college and had planned to move away as soon as I had a little money in the bank. Now, with Dad gone, the need to get away from here seemed urgent.
My father, Brent, had been the only voice of reason, the only person I could somewhat relate to, even though he was pretty much brainwashed by my stepmother. At least he cared about me. My stepmother was cold, close-minded and never a true replacement