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“And that’s how you began stripping?”

“I lied to the club owner, but honestly, he knew I was underaged. He didn’t even ask for identification.”

“And Quin and you became friends?”

“Not that day. She just called me stupid, pointed me in the direction of the strip club, and walked off. On the street, no one truly trusts people in the beginning. It takes time to get close to people.” I pointed at him. “Now, your turn.”

He sighed. “I told my mentor at the seminary about my new responsibilities. He believed that I should not leave my calling. Instead, I should bring my family on God’s journey with me.”

“That’s how you all came here?”

“It is. I brought my siblings to this place, thinking it would be a safe haven, a peaceful place for them to thrive.”

“And what happened?”

“They were emotionally manipulated. They were touched. They were sexually abused.”

Rage caught in my throat. “All of them?”

“Did you see your mother or stepfather again?”

“No. No.” I glared at him, feeling betrayed. “Back to you.”

He frowned. “What else is there to say?”

“A whole hell of a lot.” I held my hands out to my sides. “How did you find out about this?”

“I wasn’t a priest here. It was an internship where my siblings and I could live in the main house without having to pay. A food stipend was even provided.”

“What did you have to do for that?”

“Some of my duties were comforting congregation members and hearing their confessions, their fears. Other duties fell into menial work—tending to the cemetery garden, keeping the Reverend’s office clean, and even polishing his antique swords.”

My interest piqued more.

“I’d just finished polishing one of the Reverend’s favorite swords. A rare antique. It was a ceremonial sword from the Catholic Knights of America.” His gaze held disgust. “Leather handle. Blade etched in fancy designs. It was 150 years old.”

Then, Cain looked at the wall that hid his soul coffin. “I went to his office to see if I polished the sword to his liking. . .he probably didn’t think I would be done so soon.”

I backed up, scared for what he would say next.

“I walked in on him. . .touching himself.” Cain gritted his teeth. “And in front of him, some of my younger brothers and sisters. . .they. . .were naked. . .and performing for him.”

“No.”

“He had them doing stuff. . .to each other.”

My lip quivered. “That’s so fucked up.”

“I knew there was no god right then.” He sneered. “They’d lost their mother, their father, all too early. And now they had this sadistic bastard hurting them more, pleasuring himself from their brutality. . .and all doing it in the name of the Lord.”

So horrified, my chest rose and fell fast.

Cain lifted one hand in the air. “I raised that fucking piece of shit sword and chopped his dick off. My little sisters screamed. My brothers pulled their pants up and rushed them out. And that was good because. . .”

I widened my eyes.

“Because I just kept cutting him. Over and over. And over. . .and over. It was hours. Blood everywhere. On my face. On my hands. On the walls. On his desk. When my brothers, Griffin and West, found me. . .I was still cutting. . .but now it was just battered flesh. There was no body.”

“Where are your brothers and sisters at now?”

“They’re still here.”

That’s who is around.

I searched my memories of last night. There was a house close to this chapel. It looked big enough to fit a lot of people. “How many brothers and sisters?”

“Nine.”

“Wow.”

“I’m the oldest.”

“How old is the youngest?”

“Thirteen. I think.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t. . .I don’t come around them much anymore.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve done enough.” He rubbed his face with both hands. “I stay here.”

“You don’t go over there at all?”

“Not if I can help it.” He shifted his weight. “I stay here. I. . .have other things to focus on. I don’t have time to be with them anyway.”

“What other things do you have to focus on?”

“There’s no god, so someone must keep proper balance in this world.”

“So, you kill people?”

His forehead wrinkled. “Did you see your mother and stepfather again?”

Pissed, I got ready to walk off.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me to him. “I confessed. Now, you answer.”

“Let me go.” I looked up at him. “Please.”

“Did you see them again?”

“Yes.” I struggled to get out of his hold. “Why do you care?”

He released me. “When did you see them?”

I inched away. My back pressed against the bookshelf.

“When, Phoenix?”

I stared down at the ground. “I. . .I see them all the time at the basketball games. I sit far in the back with my hood on. I never make too much noise, even when he scores. I don’t want to draw attention.”

“And you’ve seen your mother and stepfather there?”


Tags: Kenya Wright Romance