Page 6 of Preacher

I wanted to stay and make sure she ate, but I’d been around horses long enough to know she wouldn’t touch it until I was gone. That was the thing about horses. They sensed when we were around. She wouldn’t move until she knew I was gone, so I headed out back and stood on the mound overlooking the pasture.

Even now, as I stood there looking at the life I’d built with my boys, I hadn’t forgotten where I’d come from. I remembered it all very well. I could still hear the low rattle of the wind whipping through the broken boards of my childhood home. I could still see the peeling paint and broken-down furniture. Most of all, I could still see my poor mother balled up on that old, dirty mattress with sweat soaking through her thin nightgown. She was wasting away from the sickness we couldn’t afford to fight.

My father was desperate to do something,anything, to save her. But getting her the medical attention she needed would cost money, and he was already drowning in debt. We were barely able to put food on the table, so he started searching for a miracle.

He should’ve known better than to gamble on a race he couldn’t afford to lose. But desperation makes fools of the weak.

I was fifteen when he lost that gamble and handed me over to a man twice my age with a name that carried fear and bloodshed. Dimitri wasn’t just ruthless in business. He was ruthless in every way imaginable.

Truth was,hedidn’t even want to marry me. He liked having his pick of women, but his father forced his hand. He told him a man of his stature needed a woman at his side—one that was quiet, pretty, and most of all, obedient. Dimitri looked at me like I was a punishment, and he certainly made sure I felt like one.

My first few years with him were hell.

Pain and silence became my closest companions. He wanted obedience, and when I refused, he took it from me the hard way. Thankfully, the beatings slowed when I gave him what he truly wanted.

A son.

Sergei was a blessing in more ways than one. Not only was he a precious child who stole my heart, he was my saving grace. Viktor and Nikolai followed soon after, and with each child, Dimitri’s grip on me loosened.

I’d served my purpose.

But he still expected me to look the part of the perfect wife. I wasn’t naïve about it. I knew I was attractive. He wanted me there, so he could show me off. He wanted me dressed to the nines with jewels and expensive dresses, so I would turn heads. That was it.

I wasn’t a wife. I was an accessory.

But he lost interest in me physically and barely touched me. He left the raising of our boys to me. I knew he was with other women. I didn’t care. I knew he didn’t love me—not the way a man should love his wife.

I didn’t love him either. I didn’t even like him.

The only love I ever knew came from my boys, and when Dimitri died, I wasted no time leaving the past behind.

I wanted no reminders of the life we’d endured, so I sold everything—the house, his businesses, and most of our belongings. We packed up the rest and moved to Little Rock. I thought a fresh start would do us all good. It was a chance to build a new life in a city where no one knew the Volkov name, but my sons had their father’s blood running through their veins and had his thirst for power coursing through them.

It didn’t take them long to make a name for themselves, and they took what they knew and made it ours, turning the past into profit. They had big plans for a grand casino—one that would stand above all others. It would be their legacy, not mine.

I had my land, the barn, and my beautiful horses. Here, I would have the peace I never thought I’d find. Dimitri might’ve stolen my past, but he wouldn’t have my future. No man, living or dead, would ever take it from me again.

3

PREACHER

Sleep never came easy, but when it did, it was rarely kind.

It felt like I’d barely closed my eyes when I was back there again—back to the night when everything fell apart.

It was just over a year ago. I was sitting at the bar, enjoying a cold one with Grim and Creed, and Beckett came barreling in with his face red with anger. He stormed over to me with his fists clenched and his eyes burning with a rage I’d never seen in him before. “Ruben and his crew raped and killed her.”

“Raped and killed who?”

“Amy!” he roared. “They broke into her place, raped, tortured, and killed her!”

I loved him, but my boy was young and naïve. He thought this girl was going to be his one and only, and he’d already started making plans with her. It was clear that he was distraught over her death, and I got it. Nothing worse than losing someone you care about, especially in such a horrific way.

“When?”

“Some time last night. Cops think they got in when she was letting the dog out.” I knew my son well enough to know that he was on the verge of losing it when he shouted, “We gotta go after them and make ‘em pay!”

“We aren’t going after them.” My voice was firm and left no room for argument.

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