Page 49 of Take Me to Church
“Did you not hear the screaming?” Lydia puts all her focus into providing support for the woman braced between her and Piper. A woman I’m sure I would recognize in better lighting. “I couldn’t just sit there while she screamed.”
We pause as the men yelling in the woods get closer, the sound louder with each passing second.
Simon rushes past me, quickly scooping Myra up. “We’ve got to move.” He turns and races back in the direction of the SUV, holding Myra close.
I grab Lydia’s hand, gripping it tight as I take off behind him, easily keeping pace with his longer legs since he’s carrying Myra’s added weight. But Lydia and I are the only ones keeping up. Piper starts to fall behind, clutching her side as she wheezes in the moonlight filtering in through the split the road makes in the trees. Turning to Lydia, I point at Simon and Myra. “Stay right behind them.”
I pivot, planning to go back and grab Piper, but before I even let Lydia’s hand go, a familiar form rushes from the trees. Bending at the waist, he plants his shoulder in Piper’s middle before hauling her up off the ground and racing our direction. Tate passes me with Piper dangling upside down, arms flailing as she fights his hold. A sudden smack echoes through the night as his hand plants against her ass. “Hold still.” He doesn’t slow as she continues to rant, voice low but filled with an amount of venom that would terrify most men.
“I should have nuked your nuts when I had the chance.”
I pull Lydia faster, since we’re now bringing up the rear, and when she starts to lag I pause just long enough to throw her over my shoulder. I know it’s not the most comfortable way to travel, but right now it’s the fastest, and speed is critical.
I barely slow my steps when the SUV comes into view, dumping Lydia into the back next to where Simon is carefully sliding Myra into the seat, gently tucking her feet into the floorboard before giving her a final look and closing the door. The beam of a flashlight streaks across the night as he runs back to his truck.
“Shit.” Her eyes are wide as the first of the men hunting her sister stumbles out into the roadway. “Hurry.”
Tate drops Piper to her feet, keeping one arm around her waist and hauling her along with him as he gets into the driver’s seat, leaving her tangled across his lap and the console as he starts the engine and cranks the wheel as far as it will go, making a U-turn. The tires up the passenger’s side run off the pavement and onto the grassy shoulder, bouncing us all around the interior as he floors the gas.
Myra clings to Lydia, sobbing as we fly down the pavement, Simon following right behind us.
Other than the soft sounds of Myra’s cries, everyone is quiet as we speed down the dark roads, making sure our path to the hotel is convoluted and difficult to follow. It takes twice as long to get back as it did to reach our destination, but it’s worth the extra effort to ensure no one is tailing us. We’ve worked too hard and come too far to risk whatever altercation might follow.
But when we pull into the parking lot, Myra starts to tremble, holding Lydia in a white-knuckled grip as she begins to plead. “I thought we were leaving. I thought we were getting out of Arkansas. You said you lived in Memphis. I thought that was where we were going tonight.”
Lydia pulls her sister close, smoothing down her matted hair as she turns to me, expression full of uncertainty. “I’m not sure—”
“I’ll go get our bags. Give me just a few minutes and we’ll drive back to Memphis tonight. You ride with Tate.” I know what it feels like to need to put as much distance between this place and you as possible. I felt that way the night they kicked me out, and I feel that way again right now. So as much as I hate having to separate from Lydia, I know it’s what’s best. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Lydia’s gaze is uncertain as it lands on my friend, one of the two men I trust more than anyone else in the world.
Tate must notice her apprehension too, because the second we step out of the SUV, he tosses me his keys. “I’ll take your car.” His eyes drag to where Piper is now climbing into the back seat beside Myra. “I’m sure they’d much rather ride with you.”
I hand him my keys before tucking his into my pocket. “I appreciate it.”
Tate shrugs. “After the day I’ve had, I could use some fucking silence.”
Simon joins us as we head into the hotel, quickly collecting everything from our respective rooms before hauling it out and loading it into the cars. The whole process takes under fifteen minutes, and soon we’re pulling back onto the highway, and I’m once again putting Mountain Oak in my rearview mirror.
Only this time, I’m not alone. This time I’m paying them back just a little for all they’ve done.
We’re barely thirty minutes into the drive before two of the three women sandwiched together in the back seat are asleep. Myra’s head is on Lydia’s shoulder, her mouth slack even as she continues to take shuddering breaths. Piper’s slumped against the door, head cushioned against her purse as she softly snores.
But Lydia is wide-awake. Her eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror and she gives me a soft smile. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” I itch to pull her close. To have her body against mine. To comfort her the way I know she needs. “I’ll come back here whenever you want to clear out women who decide to leave this godforsaken place.”
Lydia’s soft smile lifts a little more. “Hopefully I can take you up on that.”
19
LYDIA
I THOUGHT I would feel better once Myra was safe, but right now I think I might feel worse.
She seems so different from the sister I remember—the woman who was happy and sweet and kind. But maybe I should have expected that. Maybe I should have known Myra would have to completely change before she’d be ready to do what it takes to leave the IGL. I should be happy for her. Glad she finally found the strength to break away. But right now, laying in Christian’s bed beside her, I feel like I’m staring at a stranger.
Myra sleeps soundly beside me, wearing a pair of my pajamas and missing three quarters of the hair she possessed two hours ago. It was the first thing she did when we got to Christian’s house, hacking at her butt-length hair with a pair of kitchen scissors, cropping it just above her shoulders before throwing the remnants in the trash. It was a tangible cut, one that symbolized her commitment to separating from what is now her past. I still can’t help but worry it’s a little premature. It took me months to chop off my own ass-length locks, and she did it so quickly I worry it was a knee-jerk reaction she might regret.
