My Addiction (Murphy Enterprises #2)

Prologue

Colton:

I sat with my little brother on my lap as Prophet Moses preached.

He stood on the raised pulpit above the forty or so of us in attendance.

The small building had no air conditioning, and I could smell my own and the others’ sweat.

Counting the sweat that dripped down Brother Solomon’s neck was a pastime.

Moses’ voice was too loud in such a small space. My ears rang from it.

Piety was taught, and the uselessness of material things was preached.

The walls were bare except for pictures of the prophet himself that surrounded us.

The frames that held those pictures were gold.

The irony was not lost in that. Every meeting made them close in on me.

The hard wooden bench dug into the backs of my thighs.

The numbness only increased whenever Ollie shifted.

It was my responsibility to make sure little Ollie did not disrupt the service.

Hell, his entire well-being was my responsibility and had been since he was born eleven months ago.

I could never understand why my parents decided to have another baby almost twenty-two years after they had me.

My parents joined when I was sixteen. I was going to leave right after graduating from college with my degree in computer programming, but I decided to stay when my mother told me she was pregnant.

I knew that I would never get a chance to meet my brother if I had left.

I was glad I stayed. Ollie was a sweet, playful baby unless someone tried to take him from me.

Maybe it was baby intuition, but he did not like anyone in the so-called church touching him.

He did not like strangers either. Neither of my parents wanted anything to do with him, so I took care of Ollie.

He was mine, and I was going to protect him.

Two of the brothers stood and started passing around baskets for collections.

Each time a member placed money or a check into the basket, the men would check it or count it.

By the end, if they did not feel that it was enough, they would start again.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out cash.

Our tithes to the cult were a percentage of what we made, and I didn’t want them to see that I was keeping a small portion back.

I needed the money more now than ever. I had to run, and I was taking Ollie with me tonight.

My back was hurting from the tension. Every time Ollie moved, I made sure he didn’t make a sound. I couldn’t afford any extra attention on us, not tonight. My back still burned every time a bead of sweat ran across one of the welts that crisis-crossed my back.

I found the reason my parents had Ollie and what their plan was for him.

My blood still boiled every time I thought about it.

I had to force the bile down. Ollie was to become a ward of the cult.

His entire future was bound to them. My hands shook as I read the guardianship transfer.

I only had a few minutes before my mother got home, so I quickly searched the rest of the office.

A wire transfer of $50,000 had been made to their account.

I barely made it to the toilet before the little I had eaten came back up.

I played my part after the service and shook hands with the elders of the congregation, murmuring the expected words of goodwill even as I held back bile with each one.

When I reached the end of the line, I bowed to Prophet Moses.

He placed his hand on the top of Ollie’s small head.

Closing his eyes, he whispered a supposed blessing and prayer.

I wanted to run right then and there. Thankfully, Ollie stayed still and didn’t try to pull away.

He’d done that in the past, and I had to take the lashings for it.

I buckled Ollie into his car seat and saw Mother and Father speaking to Moses.

I wanted to know what they were talking about.

Had they discovered my plan? I averted my eyes as he looked over to me.

I saw the look in his eyes when he looked at Ollie.

Ownership. Entitlement. We drove to the little house I had called home for the last seven years.

It was a two-bedroom house of less than 1,000 square feet.

Ollie shared my room, and tonight I was thankful for that.

“Oliver is tired and starting to get cranky, so I’m going to give him his bottle and put him down for the night.

” I went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle, which Ollie took from me as soon as he saw it.

My heart was in my throat, my pulse beating so loud in my ears that I was afraid my parents would hear it.

“Fine, but I have to get up early in the morning, so keep him quiet tonight. I don’t want to be woken up.

” My father worked for one of the cult’s members at a payday loan business.

Ollie had woken him up before, and I had to pay penance for it — six hours on my knees holding a baby in my arms. I can still feel the phantom pains in my arms.

“Yes, sir, I will. I’m leaving in the morning to meet a prospective client about some contract work.

” Even if this weren’t a lie, I wouldn’t have to mention that I would be taking Ollie with me; it was just a given.

I had been working as a freelancer for a few months, so they did not question me about it.

I took Ollie to our room and shut the door.

I needed him to be asleep and not to wake up when we left.

I thought about giving him baby Tylenol, but decided I couldn’t do that to him.

I couldn’t take most of our things because I didn’t want Mother or Father to notice.

I was going to grab Ollie and one bag that was already packed.

This had to work. I was out of chances. Out of time.

In less than a month, Ollie was to be handed over, and I couldn’t allow that to happen.

If I failed, Ollie would be gone, and I would be dead.