Page 12 of Mea Culpa

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I felt my anger and indignation start to rise and pushed it all back down. There would be plenty of time for that later—and I was sure that most if not all in the room would feel that, too. I took a quick drink from my water bottle, soothing my dry throat. “The brainwashing and programming were epic. But as I got even older, my eyes were opened more, and more things didn’t seem right. I saw things that didn’t fit with the idealistic front they presented to others—the reality that everyone there seemed to subscribe to.” I tipped my head back and let out a breath before focusing on the group once more, waiting to see if anyone had anything to say. When nobody spoke up, I continued.

“My intuition was constantly going crazy, screaming at me that this or that wasn’t right and that I needed to pay closer attention. And then we started having lots of deaths in the family. Tons of accidents, several suicides. A few mass tragedies. It was all easily explained away, or so it seemed, but my gut instinct wouldn’t let me rest.” I rubbed a hand over my throat and chest.

“Then our leader started telling me that he neededmypower, and I knew my intuition had been right. By that time, my mom was so under his control, I barely recognized her.”

“What did you do?” James asked, and his voice surprised me. I looked at him and saw the earnest expression in his eyes. The kinship I felt with him in that moment loosened something in my chest. I knew that his mother suffered from battered wife syndrome. I’d bet this hit him particularly hard. The knot that had loosened in my chest took up residence in my belly, winding itself around the emotional ball of twine already there.

“I took a stand. I said no. And he didn’t like it.”

“What happened then?” Harper asked, and I noticed she had tears in her eyes. As a psychologist, she’d probably seen and heard things like this before. And she knew the kind of damage it could do. I wondered how she kept it together with so many stories of tragedy in her head day in and day out. I could barely handle the one in mine.

“They tortured me.” I choked a bit on the words. “I was beaten, branded, tied up. They withheld food and water. They used sensory deprivation techniques to break me down. They told me that I was evil and that myblasphemous rotneeded to be removed. Said that only the prophet could handle and wield it.” I felt pain and looked down at my hands, seeing that I had clenched them so hard, my nails had scored bloody crescent moons in my palms.

“Fuck me. And fuck them,” Sky said and put her head in her hands.

I grabbed a couple of napkins from the table where they rested by the snacks and curled them into my fists, using the pain to center myself again. I knew if I started crying, I likely wouldn’t be able to stop.

“That went on for years. And during that time, I saw things I wish I hadn’t. I witnessed things that could only be described as evil. So,somuch deceit. Rape disguised as a victim’s piety. Murder in the name of religion.”

Padre crossed himself and shook his head. “I am so sorry, Larken.”

I gave him a small, sad smile that let him know I appreciated his concern. “I don’t know if my magic simply wouldn’t let me be brainwashed and snowed, or if I was just that strong mentally. But what Idoknow is that I am the only one who rebelled, at least the only one who is still alive to tell the tale. And the only reason that is, is because he wanted my magic. He wanted it so bad it was an obsession.” Bile filled my throat again, and I choked it down. Barely.

I so desperately wanted to stop there. I saw the looks of pity crossing the faces of those I loved, and I didn’t want that. It made me feel like a burden. Something I never wanted to be and tried really hard to avoid at all costs. I was the caretaker—and that included taking care of myself. Harper would likely tell me that was a trauma response, and deep down I knew it was, but it was just part of who I was. Didn’t make it right, but it did make it true. And right now, integrity and authenticity were important to me, so I would lean into even the bad bits.

I pursed my lips, tossed the bloody napkins to the side, and clasped my hands in front of me on the table. I couldn’t meet their gazes. Not right now. “He upped the ante when I turned sixteen. All the beatings and torture before were just a warm-up. Things got so bad that I was one hundred percent convinced he would kill me if I didn’t give in and give him what he wanted. And I wasn’t about to give him what he wanted.” I ran a shaky hand through my hair. “One day, they dragged me out to the barn and tied me to a chair. I refused. Again. And he beat me, knocked me unconscious, and left me with the snakes and rats.” I felt a tickle on my cheek and reached up to find that tears had snuck past my guards. I just hoped that I could hold back the flood until I finished.

“Goddamn it, girl,” Lennie said, and I saw her reach for a napkin to wipe her eyes.

I dashed away the moisture with the backs of my hands, steeled my spine, and reinforced my magical shields. “When I came to, the chair had broken. I was able to get free, and I ran into the swamp. I didn’t look back. I left my mom and the couple of people I called friends and loved and ran. I came to New Orleans, found a shelter, and got my feet under me. The day I turned eighteen, I legally changed my name. I stayed at that shelter for many years. Worked there and helped however I could. The proprietress became like a mother to me. Maynard was actually her last name. She died in a tragic car accident, and I knew that I wanted a piece of her to live on in me.”

I looked up then, and the expressions surrounding me were like a punch to the gut. I was really glad that I couldn’t feel their emotions right now with my magical shields so buttoned-up. I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it.

I blew out a breath and felt more tears well and pour over my bottom lashes, silently streaming down my cheeks. “So, yeah. I became Larken Maynard and adopted a new persona and appearance so they’d have a harder time finding me. I built my magic and got stronger. Then, I started doing readings in Jackson Square and met Dev.”

I looked at him, and he smiled at me. It made the tears come harder, the shaking more intense, but I kept my composure. Barely. “When I did, I found the home I always wanted, and the family I always dreamed of.”

I picked at my thumbnail, unable to meet the others’ eyes just yet. “I’m really sorry I had to deceive you guys.” The last came out on a little sob. “I did it to keep from being found. To keep you all safe from any viewers who may be even loosely tied to them. The person you know as Lark—your Birdie? That’s the real me. Just wrapped in an appearance that won’t make it easy for that evil to find me again. Because he’ll never stop looking for me. I know that in my soul.”

I blew out a trembling breath, the tears streaming and my lip quivering, and finally looked around at everyone. Most had tears in their eyes. When I got to Turner, I noticed that he was pale and shaky. My heart dropped. “Turner? Are you okay?”

“Uh . . . yeah. I’m . . . I’m okay. Just need some air.” He got up and walked outside.

Something in me said that I should follow, but before I could, I was tackled by nearly everyone at the table, all of them coming in to give me a massive group hug. I-love-yous and we’ve-got-yous and you’re-so-damn-strongs were thrown out and punched me in the chest like arrows.

The tears came harder, but they were different now—like washing away some of the stain that’d tainted my experiences and dispersing the shadows that’d followed me around all these years. They accepted me for who I was, including who I’d been.

I let out a watery little laugh and sniffed. “Guys, I love you all, but I still need to breathe.”

They all laughed and backed off, returning to their seats, but I saw that the couples stayed snuggled together as if they needed the comfort.

“There’s one more thing,” I said.

“Do I need to go and get Turner?” Dev asked.

“No, I can tell him later. Actually, it’s probably best if I do—tell him one-on-one, that is. Turner set me up with his friend.”

“That date you told us about?” Hanlen asked.


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