Page 76 of Take Me to Church
"I hope that's what happens." Piper gives me a weak smile.
I'm not used to seeing my friend down like this. She’s always happy. Always upbeat. Always positive and looking at the bright side. This melancholy bothers me and I want to fix it. To help her the way she's helped me.
I finish mixing up her coffee before sliding in front of her. "Let's go do something fun today. Maybe we can go shopping or go out to lunch."
Piper shrugs. "Sure." She takes a sip of her coffee, closing her eyes as she swallows it down. "That's really good. Christian has a better coffee maker than we do." She opens her eyes and looks at me. "I guess it won't be so bad if Stella fires me. I'll just move in here with you and use his good coffee maker."
It's not a completely terrible thought, and somehow I don't think Christian would mind if Piper hung around for a while. "Everything has a silver lining."
I glance toward the hall. "I should see if Myra wants to come with us. She mentioned she wanted to get some new clothes.”
"I'm willing to bet she'll say yes. She seems ready to move on with her life." Piper takes another sip of her coffee. "I was surprised she was already out of bed when I got up."
I snap my head in Piper's direction. "What do you mean she was out of bed?"
Piper's coffee cup hovers in front of her lips, suspended in place. "Her bed was made when I got up this morning. I figured you'd already talked to her and she was across the street hanging out with one of the girls."
I shake my head. "I haven't seen her." I'm glad Myra is acclimating so well, especially now that I'm not as actively comparing our lives, but I don't like that she's going out alone without telling anyone where she's at. "I'll be right back."
Piper slides from her stool. "I'm not just going to sit here while you guys get to hang out and have fun." She carries her coffee cup with her as we move to the front of the house.
I unlock the front door and open it, security system beeping as I step out onto the porch I found scary not so long ago. Granted, it's currently well-lit instead of dark and shadowy, but even at night Christian’s home no longer intimidates me the way it once did.
The ivy still needs to go though.
Piper follows me down the stairs, drinking her coffee as we make our way along the sidewalk in our bare feet and pajamas. I'm relieved to see Myra headed our way. She smiles brightly, offering up a wave. "Good morning."
I unlock the gate, punching in the passcode before pulling it open and stepping out onto the sidewalk. "Where were you?"
Myra crosses the street, looking so unlike the sister I grew up with in one of Piper's borrowed sundresses and a pair of wedge sandals. She sighs loudly. "I can't seem to stop waking up at five in the morning. Felicity told me she's always up at five with her daughter, so I went over to have coffee with her."
“I guess it’s good you guys can keep each other company then.” I'm really glad Myra is making friends, but she's acting like everything that happened to her is done and over with. And maybe it is.
Maybe Rodney's friends will figure he met an early and deserved demise and go on with their lives. Maybe her divorce will be quick and easy and painless. Maybe her transition into the normal world will be seamless and satisfying.
But what if it’s not?
"I wish you would leave me a note or something. So I know where you are." I reach for her as she steps up onto the sidewalk, grabbing her hand with mine. "I worry about you. I just want to be sure—"
The sound of an engine revving catches my attention.
Myra, Piper, and I all turn at the same time to look down the street as a large, black SUV barrels toward us.
Myra's hand tightens in mine and her skin goes pale. "Run."
I turn, fully intending to race back through the gate and lock it behind us, but I only make it a few steps.
The SUV screeches to a stop only a few feet away and the doors fly open. The faces of the men who jump out are devastatingly familiar and send my stomach sinking.
Hard hands grab me with enough force to leave bruises, dragging me toward the open doors of the vehicle. I try to dig my bare feet into the cement, but they fail to find purchase, the rough texture peeling away the skin of my soles as my brother drags me away.
I glance over as Myra screams, the sound cut short when Matthias backhands her across the face. He hits her with enough force that her body slumps, crumpling toward the ground. He picks her up, all but throwing her into the same back seat I’m being stuffed into.
To her credit, Piper doesn't go down without a fight. Some people are all bark and no bite, but she isn't afraid to sink her teeth in. Literally. She swings her coffee cup, the ceramic shattering when it hits its mark, dumping the caramel-colored liquid into my father’s hair and down his pristine white shirt. When that’s not enough to secure her freedom, she clamps down on his arm, face scrunched up with the force she's using as he howls in pain, trying to shake her free.
Some other time it might be a satisfying thing to witness, but right now I'm just terrified. Afraid for my sister. Afraid for Piper. Afraid for myself.
And all I can think about is the warning Christian gave me about what happens when women return to abusive men.
