Page 184 of Redeemed

“It is! That’s how—”

“No, it’s not,” I growl. “Whatever ceremony you had, it was meaningless.”

“That’s not what Isaiah thinks. The—the vows we took, they’re not supposed to be broken. It’s one of the greatest sins you can commit. Adultery can be punishable by death. That’s how seriously they take it.”

“What do you mean, can be?” I ask.

“It depends on what the husband chooses. He can decide to forgive his wife and give her a second chance. If he doesn’t, then he can…” Haven pauses, searching for the right words. “Or he can choose to ‘enact God’s justice’ on her if he doesn’t find her worthy of forgiveness.”

Xander goes stiff. “That’s not how God’s forgiveness is supposed to work.”

“You think I don’t know that?” she asks tiredly.

He narrows his eyes. “What if the husband is the one who cheats?”

“He’ll usually have a couple sessions with Beckham and the elders. They’ll pray over him and study the Bible together to get the husband back on the right track. The—the wife will be assigned a new mentor to help her learn how to serve her husband better so it doesn’t happen again.”

I barely hear their conversation. I can only focus on one thing—the way Isaiah was looking at Haven in the woods. There was only rage. If he’d gotten his hands on her, there wouldn’t have been any forgiveness.

“He’d kill you,” I say quietly.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

More of the pieces fall into place. I already had my suspicions, but today confirms it. I pull Haven closer until she’s leaning into me. “He’s the one who raped you.”

Not a question. There’s no hiding from the truth now.

Haven nods. “He wouldn’t see it that way, though. I’m his wife. Sex is something I’m supposed to give to him whenever he wants.”

“You arenothis wife,” I grit out.

“I am,” she insists. “I spoke the vows. I lived with him. I cooked and cleaned for him. I did all of it for years.”

Xander and I exchange a horrified glance.For years?

“Angel, how old were you when you were forced to marry him?”

She hesitates.

“Haven.”

“F-fifteen.”

Oh my god.

“And how old was he?” Xander asks. “Because he doesn’t look anywhere near our age.”

“That—that doesn’t matter.”

Xander laughs, although the sound is bitter and hollow. “I may not have grown up in a cult, but I still grew up in the church. I know how this shit works. How old was he?”

With tears in her eyes, she stares at the table and mumbles, “Twenty-seven.”

I almost choke on my next breath. Twelve years older? Maybe the age gap wouldn’t be a big deal if she was older—significantlyolder—but she was a child.

“It’s okay,” she says quietly. “It’s how it is there. I was prepared for it. All the girls—”

“No.” My voice is harsher than it should be, but I won’t let her talk about what she went through like that. “Nothing makes it okay. Fucking nothing. You don’t have to downplay it. Not around us.”

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