“But why did she need so much consoling?” she prodded gently.
“I’m pretty sure someone else did.”
“Did what?” Reilly sucked in a sharp breath. “Molest Saylor?”
“Sarah,” he corrected.
God, this separation of two children into four hurt her brain. She understood their need for that coping mechanism, but for her, it was like dealing with people who had two separate personalities or were two separate people. However, this was different than a personality disorder they couldn’t control, it was a choice both of them decided to make.
“Who molested Sarah?” she repeated with the correct name. Her pulse was racing because she already knew. There was no need for him to confirm it.
She now knew why Saylor wanted nothing to do with her family, why she kept committing crimes to get pulled from the household, why she didn’t want to go home after juvie, and why she changed her damn name.
Why Rev didn’t want Saylor to come “home” with him to visit their dying father.
Reilly forced herself to swallow the rage that had rose out of her chest and into her throat. “Do you know for sure he did that to her?”
Holy shit, the man needed to die. No wonder Rev wanted to see his father’s end through.
“When I was punished, I was taken outside. When she was…”
Reilly held her breath.
“He only ever did it in her room, with the door closed and she’d cry for a while afterward. He never used a switch on her. He’d…”
The breath rushed out of her as his face twisted and his hands clenched into fists.
“What else would make her cry like that? When I was whipped, I wasn’t allowed to cry without addin’ to the number of strikes. But she cried every fuckin’ time after he left her room. Every damn time. I’d go into her room once they went to bed, once it was safe. I’d crawl into her bed and hold her. I’d beg her to tell me what was wrong, what he did and she never would.”
Why did he look guilty? How was any of this his fault? “He probably threatened her not to tell.”
“Or he brainwashed her into thinkin’ whatever he did was normal. ‘Cause to him it fuckin’ was. I think it was accepted among all of them. However, it was never fuckin’ talked about and since I wasn’t a female, it didn’t affect me like it did her.”
“Shit,” she whispered. “Why would it be accepted?”
“It was—probably still is—a father’s job to prepare any daughters he had to be obedient to her husband. This way he could hand her off to a worthy one. No man would want her if she acted out or wasn’t submissive.”
“The way Matthew’s wife looked.”
“Yeah.”
“This… church… it’s more than a church, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s a damn cult, almost like the Shirleys,” she concluded.
His tattooed chest rose and fell. “Yeah.”
“Jesus Christ, how many fucked up groups are there like this in the world?”
“Bet more than we know.”
“That’s scary,” she whispered.
“Ain’t it?” He shook his head. “Think about it. Wouldn’t be hard to take a brotherhood like the Fury and twist it into something darker, like a cult. Wouldn’t be hard at all.”
“Which is why Trip is careful not to let the club turn back into the Originals.”
“Part of the reason. Though, the Originals were never into incest that we know of. Were they the best parents? Fuck no.”
“No,” Reilly agreed, “but from some of the stories that are told, they were into some other fucked up shit.”
“Yeah, the stories that are told. Sure there are much worse ones buried somewhere.”
“But the Originals are now gone,” she stated.
“Not all of them,” he reminded her quickly.
Right, Dutch and Ozzy were Originals and even wore the patch stating such. Trip and Judge, and some of the others, were positive more were out there, they just hadn’t been or didn’t want to be found.
Also, a few of the Fury members, along with some of the club sisters, were products of some of those Originals. Most with secrets as deep as Rev and Saylor’s.
When she got back to Manning Grove, she was going to give Saylor a bone-crushing bear hug. She’d just have to find a good excuse for it, so Saylor didn’t guess that Reilly knew the truth about her past. Or figure out that Reilly went with Rev to Coatesville.
Unfortunately, this trip would be one more secret thrown onto the ever-growing mountain of Fury secrets.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said, because she didn’t know what else to say to help take away the horrible memories from his childhood. “After you left, did you have any way to stay in touch with Saylor?” She grimaced. “Sarah, I mean.”
“Not really. When I could, I would go to her school and check on her there. Wasn’t often since I was barely survivin’ on my own. Once I turned eighteen, I could visit her at juvie without the threat of bein’ caught as a runaway, so it was a little easier.”