Chapter Thirteen
Kade
Seven Years Ago
She’s asleep in my arms, her hair spread wildly, her hand resting haphazardly, her breath shallow and soft as she exhales warm, little puffs against my chest.
I hold my hand still where it’s been all night, my fingers cramping, my wrist locking, my elbows screaming for relief, but I don’t move. I can’t because I don’t want to wake her… because I don’t want this moment to end. That said, I can’t stop thinking about what a fucking asshole I am.
I’ve devoted twenty years to the church.
Twenty years of my life, and it’s been days since God has said a word to me.
I can’t blame him. I’ve not been acting right.
Between the shit I did to Michael at dinner yesterday and the many indiscretions I’ve had with Wren, I think God and I might be on the rocks.
Lord in heaven, I pray. I don’t know what I’ve done. I need guidance. I need a path to follow.
I’ve tried prayer. I’ve tried physical activity. I’ve broken my vows in hopes that I’d recoup my sensibilities and turn them back to the cloth, but instead I’m here, in this bed with this sweet woman, and I only want more.
I need to protect her. I need to hold her close. I need to be free to love her the way she deserves to be loved.
Usually, this is where I’d hear the voice of God, but again, I hear nothing.
“You okay?” Wren’s voice is soft with sleep, and my chest warms at the mere sound of it. “Are you praying?”
“I’ve been praying for an answer on and off for days. I don’t hear anything.”
“Is that bad?”
“I don’t know,” I groan, staring toward the portrait of Jesus that’s hung in this room for decades.
“I’ve spent so much of my life living a certain way.
I don’t know how to reconcile this feeling I have for you.
It’s out of the blue, life-altering, and everything I never knew I needed.
All night long I kept imagining you next to the lake in a wedding dress.
I kept imagining our kids playing. I kept trying to think of a name you’d like better than Christopher. ”
She laughs and kisses my chest before she leans up from the bed, the blood returning to my fingertips slowly.
“There’s nothing I want more than for this to work out.
Trust me, I’ve spent my whole life dreaming about a guy like you, but you’ve spent so long being a priest. You’ve given your whole heart to the congregation, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel selfish taking you from all that. ”
I stare at her as my phone buzzes on the table beside the bed. “I’ll find a different way to support the community. I’ll do something to win their trust back.”
My phone buzzes again and again, enough times that I glance down to make sure there’s no emergency.
“Is everything okay?” Wren asks, her hair a wild mess from sleeping.
“Yeah. I’ve got to step outside for a minute. Can you stay here?”
“What?” She steps forward, panic drawn across her face in two thin lines. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Leanne. She’s outside the church, and Zane is asking for you.” I tug on my jeans as I speak. “I need you to stay here, okay? He won’t be as brave with another grown man.”
“You don’t know him like I do. You don’t know what he’s capable of. Let me go with him and calm him down. It’s okay.”
“You’re not going with him,” I groan as I tug on my T-shirt. “You said it yourself. He won’t cause a scene here. I’ll see what he wants, and I’ll ask him to leave the property.”
She nods once as I head through the rectory and toward the side door of the church where Leanne said the asshole was waiting. I have no idea what this fuck wants, but I can’t imagine he’s going to react well to hearing Wren won’t be jumping to his every whim.
Harsh light shines in as I push open the door of the little church I grew up in. Leanne is on the steps, laughing far too loudly at whatever the asshole has just said.
This woman will flirt with anyone.
“Father Anderson! I keep telling this guy that Wren isn’t here, but he’s insisting he’s tracking her phone, and she’s been here for days.”
Of course he’s tracking her phone. I’m an idiot for not thinking of that sooner.
“Can I help you?” I say, glancing toward the man in a three-piece suit.
“Yes, you can. My wife is inside your church, and I’d like to see her now.”
“She doesn’t want to see you.”
“So she is there?” Leanne shoots her hand to her hip and sighs. “What have you two been doing in there for days?”
“Yeah, Father,” the asshole barks. “What have you and my wife been doing locked away in this church for days?”
“Your wife? I believe she broke things off with you.”
“I’d like an answer to my question, Father.” The asshole steps forward as though he’s going to intimidate me. I don’t know why he thinks this will work. He’s at least a foot shorter, weighs at least a hundred pounds less, and though he’s built, he’s not nearly as muscular as me.
Vengeance is the Lord’s, but heaven help this man if he thinks he’s forcing his way into my church.
“I suggest you leave the premises,” I say again, my tone firm as the wind blows a flurry of orange leaves from the maple tree behind his black pickup truck.
“Be serious for a moment. What would you do, Father? Someone you love disappeared, hasn’t been seen for days, and their cell phone says they’ve been right at this church. I gave Wren time to text me back, but she hasn’t. I need some proof of life.”
“Is there a message I should send to her? Something you need? Something you misplaced?” I try to keep an even temper, but the longer this fuck stands in front of me, the more restraint it’s taking.
He’s the one who left those bruises on Wren’s arm! The one that made her feel worthless! The one that took my sweet little lamb and broke her!
“I can tell my wife the message myself, thank you.” He glances toward Leanne. “Honey, why don’t you go back inside and see if you can find Wren for me.”
My chest tightens as Leanne looks toward me. I know she’s asking for permission, but I also know her curiosity will win.
I step in front of the door, blocking her from entering the church.
“Father, why are you protecting her?”
“I’d protect all of you. That’s what I do.”
The asshole looks toward Leanne again. “Honey, I really need you to do this for me. Can you please get inside that church and tell Wren I need to talk to her now?”
She stands for a second longer as though she’s contemplating where her allegiance lies, but ultimately settles on herself, bypassing my arm to head into the church.
“Looks like you don’t have the control over your flock you’d hoped for, Father.” The asshole steps forward again, his arms crossed over his chest as another breeze pushes more leaves around.
In most situations, this is indicative of a warning. A display of aggression. One man telling another that he’s willing to physically assert his power if need be.
Before I get a chance to respond, the door is creaking open again. I expect to see Wren, though I hear Leanne’s shrill before I see the pink panties she’s holding at the tip of her fingers.
Fucking great!
“Father!” She stares toward me, her eyes wide, the light shining bright on the panties I tugged off Wren last night, right after I spanked her ass and had her masturbate in the church pew.
There is no God that can help me out of this mess.
“Wren is here because you hurt her. You left bruises on her skin.” I step forward, my shoulders square, every inch of my body crawling with a desire to beat this man into the fucking ground.
“And let me guess, you’ve been here healing her? Showing her what a real man acts like.”
“Father Anderson would never break his vows. He takes his relationship with God very seriously,” Leanne adds, though I don’t know if she believes it. “That slut must have left her underwear on the floor of the church for some other reason.” She snaps her gaze toward me. “What’s going on here?”
I draw in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying not to snap, though my fists are tightening.
“I’m protecting my flock,” I say again, my voice louder this time, because apparently, no one can fucking hear me! “Wren came to be beaten and bruised. She needed a place to stay, so I gave her the rectory and I kept her safe.”
“By stripping off her panties and fucking her? You priests are all a bunch of fucking weirdos. Where is my wife?”
“You’re a tough man, right? Controlling a woman with your hands? Making her feel so small so you can feel big? Is that it?” I step forward, begging this fucker to put hands on me… and he does.
He shoves me back against the little old church that’s been a part of my family’s lives for decades, and I brush myself off and straighten my back.
He shoves me a second time, and I finally have the permission I need to grab my pocketknife from my jeans.
I pull the blade and point it at his head.
He was offered grace he didn’t deserve, and he refused it.
Leanne shrieks and runs back into the church, screaming for Wren. I have seconds to make a decision. Seconds before Wren is out here in this parking lot. Seconds before this man has control over her again. Seconds that need to be spent wisely.
I smash the knife’s thick handle against his temple and knock him to the dirt. His weak, meek frame falling easily against the gravel. I follow him to the ground, driving my fists into his face and ribs.
Over and over, moment by moment, every bit of pain he’s ever caused her, every word he’s ever said, all of it forced into every hit I drive into the man.
I can see the second he passes out, I can feel the instant my hand breaks, but I don’t stop.
I don’t stop until I hear her voice, which is followed immediately by police sirens.
A few seconds, that’s all I needed. A few seconds and every fantasy I had of a life with Wren is over.