Page 17 of A Ballad of Betrayal and Beauty

Hmmm . . . okay, maybe it’s not an ego thing.“That can feel really lonely.”

Something rustles in the background. Maybe he’s in bed. “Yeah, it can be.”

“Baby?” I ask.

“Yeah?”

I pout my lips for extra effect. “I’m so lonely.”

“Are you?”

“Yes, I moved very far away to go to college and my boyfriend just broke up with me. I just don’t know what to do with myself.”

He sighs into the phone. “You poor thing. All alone and away from home.”

I smirk. Okay, now he’s got the hang of it, he just needed a little coaching. “Maybe we could be a little less lonely together?”

“That sounds nice. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

I giggle. “You will?”

“Of course. A gorgeous girl like you needs someone to look after her. Tend to her.”

With a sigh, I lean back in my chair. “No one ever pays any attention to me, Baby. But you will, right?”

“Oh sweetheart, I’ll give you all my attention.”

I coil the phone cord around my finger absently. “Hmm, that sounds nice.”

“What were you doing when I called? I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“No, I was just getting out of the shower.”

He sighs into the speaker. “Must be nice to feel so clean.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” I whisper.

“Of course.”

“It feels better getting dirty.”

CHAPTER4

Here Comes the Sun

Fourteen Years Ago

It’s so hot I can barely breathe, and singing this hymn right now might actually cause me to pass out. No one would listen to the complaints of a church choir boy, though. They would simply praise the ability to suffer. I wonder if anyone would notice an eleven-year-old passing out? Probably not . . . at least not until the next hymn went unsung.

Sweat drips down my temples and back, my undershirt clinging to me under the suffocating gown. What I wouldn’t give to be able to go to the local pool and jump in with all the other school kids. Maybe if I survive this, I can sneak out later and go without telling my parents.

The hymn concludes and I take a deep breath before the heavy doors of the church are thrown open with abang.

“Can’t believe you’re dragging me out of bed for this bullshit, Rhonda,” a surly man’s voice calls loudly.

Every head turns to look at the commotion, half of their mouths dropping open at the obscene language. No one’s ever spoken that way inside of these walls before.

“For Christ’s sake, Ellis, just sit down and shut up,” a woman in a flowered dress says as she pushes him forward. “Come on, girl, keep up.”

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