Page 70 of Take Me to Church
"I never told Myra I was leaving. I was afraid she would try to talk me out of it even though I knew it was the right thing to do. I was hoping I would break free and then I could tell her how wonderful it is and convince her to join me." I open my eyes, meeting Christian’s. "But I should have told her. Should’ve known she would have come with me even though she’d already been married off."
I pause, struggling with the full impact of what might have been. "She might have actually helped me handle it better than I did.” I glance over at the neatly made bed and immaculate space surrounding it. “But it was difficult to know who I could trust and who I couldn’t, especially after what happened with my brother.” I manage a little smile. "But now I know."
Christian smiles back at me, his thumb stroking over my cheek "I hope so." He leans close, and my eyes flutter closed, waiting for the brush of his mouth against mine.
"Hey, Lydia." Piper comes banging out of the spare bedroom down the hall, looking completely unfazed at seeing me tangled in Christians arms. "Stella just called. She bumped me to the early shift today, so it looks like we’re going to be bar buddies again." She yawns, the sound long and loud. "I was really looking forward to getting a nap in before my late shift too."
I start to step away from Christian—the urge to separate my body from his strong—but I fuse my feet to the floor. No one cares if I touch him. If he touches me. I deserve to do the things I want without old fears and lingering threats continuing to control me. "At least now you'll get off early. You might even be able to go to bed at a reasonable time."
Piper’s lip curls, lifting one side of her nose with it. "Gross. Bedtimes are for losers."
Christian chuckles, sliding one of his hands down my back. "Bedtimes are for people over thirty. Just wait. It's coming for you."
Piper makes a disgusted sound. "Not gonna happen. I'm a night owl." She tips her head to the side, eyes narrowing in consideration. "Unless Jill shows up again with mimosas. I could be bribed out of bed for that." She straightens, pointing in my direction. "Go get ready. We've got a bar to tend."
I turn to Christian as she disappears into the bedroom. "Looks like you'll have more than just me to babysit tonight."
Christian’s eyes drift down the hall before coming back to me. "Go take a shower. I’m going to call in reinforcements."
26
CHRISTIAN
"LAST NIGHT WENT better than I expected." Tate tips back the beer in his hand, swallowing down a mouthful before continuing. "I wasn't sure how everyone would take it."
"I'm not sure it went over as well as you think it did." I lean back in my chair, glancing across the bar to where Lydia is lining a tray full of drinks in front of a table of girls wearing cowboy boots and hats. "Jill showed up at my house this morning at the ass crack of dawn with all the wives.” I sip at the drink I’ve been nursing for an hour. “She didn't seem too thrilled with me."
"Was she pissed?" Simon leans closer, resting his forearm against the table we've been sitting at all afternoon. "Or was she disappointed in you?"
I wince at the memory of the look Jill gave me. "Definitely the second one."
"Ouch." Tate shoots me a grin. "Makes me glad I didn't have a reason for her to show up at my house."
Simon holds his beer out, tipping it against Tate’s. "Amen to that."
They're both celebrating their singledom, but I don’t miss the way they watch when Lydia comes to our table, her hand resting on my shoulder as she checks in on us. They might not be willing to admit it, but they are just as lonely as I was. Hell, Simon might be even worse.
He spends most of his time on the road, hauling his camper from worksite to worksite. Chasing the highest paying jobs available across the country before coasting back into town for a quick check-in and a gig or two.
The table falls quiet for a minute. After a few seconds of silence Tate meets my gaze. "Have we heard anything from The Horsemen?"
I shake my head. "Cody called earlier and said he reached out to a few of his old contacts. Said to keep them in the loop if anything interesting was going on."
I've put my brothers in an awkward position. Because of me, we’re standing with one foot edging toward a grave we buried years ago. We worked hard to leave our old—less legal—lives behind us, and I dug them up and pulled them front and center. Not only that, I delivered an entirely new problem to our doorstep, one that outed the secret life Simon, Tate, and I have been leading.
Simon works his jaw from side to side, tapping one finger against the table. "I talked to Evan." His eyes lift to me before moving to Tate. "He asked if we might want to all sit down together and talk about the possibility of continuing on with what we’re doing."
I'm stunned. Sure, none of my brothers seemed livid last night when we fessed up to helping women escape abusive situations by any means necessary, but I sure as hell didn't expect them to want to keep it going. Actually, I've been assuming the opposite. That Myra would be the last woman we'd be able to save. That my brothers would decide the risk wasn't worth the reward and our trio would be shut down.
I look from Tate to Simon. "How do you feel about that?"
The thought of stopping was almost unbearable to consider. Doing what I did kept me from wallowing in the pain of the loss of my sister. The realization that I played a part in her death. Punishing all the men I could since no one punished the man who hurt her.
"I think it’s worth considering." Tate turns to me. "I assume I know your answer?"
Loud voices drag my attention away, pushing me to my feet before I even identify the source. The Cellar is surprisingly busy for an afternoon, so there's a decent number of people blocking my path as I push my way toward the bar with Tate and Simon following right behind me. I see a flash of dark tattoos and hear a feminine grunt that turns my blood cold.
I move faster, knocking a couple of college aged guys out of my way as someone groans, and an odd snapping sound cuts through the air.
