Chapter 71
Seventy-One
ANDREA
I haven’t had penetrative sex since Cade took my virginity in the chapel storage room. And as much as I want Seba, his cock scares the shit out of me. Cade wasn’t kidding— it’s a fucking baseball bat. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to take him, but I’m sure as shit giving it a shot.
Focus. Focus. Focus.
I track Seba’s firm, naked ass as he paces the length of the living room. His jaw rolls, knuckles white from how hard he’s clutching the phone pressed to his ear. The second he answered, he opened a recording app and hasn’t managed to get a word in since.
Cade returns from the bathroom with a damp rag, kneeling to where I’m sprawled on the floor, glancing over his shoulder at his stepbrother.
“What’s he saying?” Cade hisses to Seba while gently wiping between my thighs.
A vein in Seba's temple pulses as he pulls the phone from his ear and taps the screen. My father’s irate voice booms through the speaker.
“Our mission exceeds all else and I refuse to let that stupid Aldrich girl ruin everything we’ve built.
I won’t allow it. The Lord won’t allow it!
You understand, son. You’ve always understood the mission.
Providing for the Lord’s people comes with sacrifices and if you want to stay in the Lord’s good graces, you’re gonna have to get your hands dirty.
In the name of protecting his flock and sheltering them from the darkness, of course.
You understand? We’ve got to get the inventory to Camp Christ before they trace it back to St. Gemma’s.
So we’ll meet at the chapel in an hour. This mess is all Brett and August’s fault.
If they had control of their sinful children, none of this would be happening.
I’m not saying Richard’s stepson didn’t deserve it, but the boy is an addict and a whore.
Even though I’m sure we could spin this in our favor, our Lord doesn’t look kindly on those who fornicate with men.
He does not, and he’s always watching. He’s all-knowing.
The congregation would understand. But Richard’s a damned bloodhound with a bone.
He’s not gonna let this go, especially with his boy in the hospital. ”
My stomach rolls.
Numbness spreads like a virus through me.
“Win.”
“Win what?” Cade asks.
“Win— Remy’s Win.” I scramble up. “He’s in the hospital? What did they do to him?”
Seba shoots me a warning look and mutes the call. My father drones on and on, but I can’t hear anything. All I can think of is Win and Remy. My best friend is probably losing his goddamned mind and I’ve been here, living my best life.
Blindly, I search for my phone in the mess of clothes, as a black hole sucks me into a downward spiral.
“Which hospital did they take Win to? I need to get to them. I should be there. Remy needs me—”
A hand grasps the back of my neck. Cade’s forehead collides with mine. “Right now, you need to be here while we figure out what the hell is going on.”
Panic rises like a tidal wave, carrying guilt with it. Like I’m being waterboarded, I gasp for oxygen. But there is none. I’m choking. Air. Can’t get. Air—
“Breathe, baby girl.”
Seba’s blurred form wavers in front of me.
“Is Win ok? Where’s Remy?”
Cade’s fingers massage the back of my neck as Seba wraps a flannel blanket around my shoulders. “Easy, Win is recovering. All that I know is that Jessica caught him after a meeting at the church and drugged him, but he’s alright now. Remy is with him.”
Jessica…
I’m gonna fucking puke.
And murder that bitch.
“It’s my fault,” I croak. Cade and Seba exchange confused looks.
I barrel on. “If I just said something— I saw them bullying him— at Kingsbury. I didn’t tell anyone because he— he was supposed to tell me if it happened again but he never did and with everything going on… I should’ve told someone, I should’ve…”
I dissolve into arresting sobs.
Seba reels me into his lap; Cade hugs me from behind.
“It’s not your fault,” Seba murmurs into my hair.
“But if I—”
“He’s right,” Cade interrupts. “You’re not the one who attacked Win or bullied him. And look at it this way, that girl— Jessica— she just gave the cops the perfect excuse to raid St. Gemma’s.”
Connections pop like fireworks in my brain. “St. Gemma’s hosts NA and AA meetings… while laundering money from charity events, donations and parishioners to fund their drug operation. But where are the drugs coming from— and where are they going?”
Seba sighs. “The camps.”
“Camps?” Cade grimaces. “What kind of conversion therapy bullshit is going on here?”
“Not conversion therapy,” Seba explains. “More like… reform schools. But that’s an entirely different beast. Basically, everything comes down to money.”
“Doesn’t it always?” Cade mutters.
I wipe my nose on Seba’s shoulder. “We can’t just sit here. We have to do something.”
“We are,” he promises. “Sinclair charged me with the pick up. He’s been setting me up as the fall guy for a while now, without knowing I’ve been in contact with the Feds.
Ashby said they got the warrant. Darren is meeting me at the chapel.
All I have to do is show up and let the cops take care of the rest.”
I glare at him. “You’re not going alone.”
“Andrea—”
“No.” Cade snaps. “We go together, or we don’t go at all.”
Seba closes his eyes. Grinds his teeth. Shakes his head.
“Fuck. Fine. But no martyrs this time. Got it?”
“Coming from the martyr himself,” I mutter. His stare dares me to challenge him but my fight isn’t with him anymore. It never should’ve been.
“Ok, got it. Now let’s take the pastor where he belongs.”
Hell.