Page 82 of Take Me to Church
I chew on my lower lip as the tub fills with warm water. Scrubbing away this mess of a day sounds glorious, but I'm struggling to get excited. My guilt over bringing Rodney’s cohorts here looms thicker than the steam climbing toward the ceiling. "Do you really think they'll give up that easily?"
Christian reaches into the shower, collecting my shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. "I think it's possible."
I don’t love that answer and it makes me ask a question I’ve been avoiding. "Did you and your brothers used to be like them?" I've been hesitant to ask up until now, but I want to really grasp the severity of the situation I got myself into. Got all of us into.
Christian lines my toiletries up along the ledge beside me, brows low as he considers. "In some ways, yes, but in some ways, no." He snags the washcloth from the cabinet, tossing it into the water as he comes to where I sit. "Arms up."
I lift my limbs, staying stretched as he peels my shirt over my head and tosses it into the garbage. "Hey.”
"We don’t keep clothes stained in someone else’s blood, Lydia." Christian hooks his fingers into the waist of my cotton shorts. "Butt up."
I use my hands to leverage my rear end up enough that he can drag away the remainder of my garments, and only scoff a little when they go in the same can as my shirt.
Christian carefully helps me into the water, keeping my bandaged feet over the edge. Once I'm in place, he squeezes some body wash onto the cloth and begins to scrub my skin, his expression thoughtful. "We did a lot of the same illegal activities as The Horsemen. Sold drugs. Stole anything we could get our hands on. Whatever would make us quick cash." He rinses the cloth then uses it to wipe away the soapy residue. "We were like them, but they were never like us. They weren’t a family. They fought with themselves as much as they fought with us, so no matter what they did they couldn't really compete because they were broken from the ground up." He slides the warm cloth over my chest, spending a little more time than necessary washing my breasts. "They tried to get it together for a little while a few years ago, but it didn't work and they started to go their separate ways. Rodney might have been one of the last real committed members left. Now that he's gone, hopefully everyone else will sort of fade away."
I watch him as he works on my legs, cleaning away any trace of what happened today. "Is that what you think will happen?"
Christian finishes washing my skin and moves to my head. "That's what I hope will happen." He motions for me to scoot forward. "Lean back so we can wash your hair."
I wiggle my butt across the slightly textured bottom of the tub and let him help me back into the water, the rumbly "good girl" he offers sending a jolt of heat straight through my insides. "What if it's not what happens?"
Christian’s eyes hold mine as his strong fingers work through the tangle of my hair, separating the strands beneath the water. "Then I guess it's a good thing you have a family who can keep you safe."
Epilogue
CHRISTIAN
LYDIA GLANCES UP at the back door as Piper wobbles her way in. She looks over the new boot strapped to Piper’s left foot and ankle. "Sexy."
Piper sticks her tongue out. "Shut up." She closes the door behind her, dropping her purse to the floor before hobbling her way to the kitchen island and sliding into one of the chairs. "If you think the boot is sexy, you should see what's underneath it." Her lip curls, nose wrinkling in the process. "My skin is peeling off everywhere and, based on the thickness and length of the hair growing on the lower portion of my shin, I'm pretty sure I might be part Sasquatch."
"Sasquatch, huh?" Lydia leans on the counter, propping her chin on one hand. "There's a place in West Virginia where you can go and stay at this bed-and-breakfast and hunt for Sasquatch." She wiggles her brows. "We should go. We might be able to find you a boyfriend."
"Gross." Piper shakes her head, looking disgusted. "I don't have time for a boyfriend." She turns her attention to where I stand at the stink. "Did you know your friend expects me to work forty freaking hours a week?"
"I have heard that rumor, yes." Between the testicle tasing incident and her broken ankle, Stella and Piper came to the joint conclusion that maybe continuing to work at The Cellar wasn't the best path forward, which left Lydia's friend a little devastated. Luckily, their lease on the townhouse they shared was practically up, so I offered to let her stay with us until she figured out what she wanted to do. Unfortunately, Piper hadn't given much consideration to her future, so coming up with a plan B was a slow and painful process. One that only ended when Tate accidentally mentioned he was in need of someone to help out at the front desk of his car shop.
I can’t help but wonder if it wasn’t as accidental as he made it seem.
Piper jumped on the opportunity, and for the past two weeks has been waking up early and getting to her new job on time, managing to make a career out of something she is hilariously skilled at: Driving Tate absolutely fucking crazy.
"At least everybody there likes to cook so there's always stuff to eat in the break room." Piper slumps down, folding her arms across the counter, letting her chin rest on top. "And Tate lets me go to the doctor whenever I have an appointment without having to find someone else to cover my shift."
"Do you have many more?" Lydia glances at the oven, grabbing a pair of hot mitts from the counter just as the timer starts to beep. "I thought they said the boot would be the last step."
"They did." Piper sighs. "But it seems like I have to wear the stupid thing for another six weeks to make sure everything is nice and healed." She straightens, holding her leg out, scowling at the medical grade brace strapped around her ankle. "It's just so ugly."
"Not as ugly as that broken bone was." Lydia pulls the giant dish of scalloped potatoes she's been working on all afternoon from the oven and slides them onto the counter. "I think if it had come through the skin I would have passed all the way out."
Piper goes a little pale, chin tucking like she's about to gag. "Stop. I can’t even think about it." She glowers. "If I'd known your dumb-ass brother was gonna land his fat ass on my ankle when the car flipped over, I would've punched him again."
The reminder of where my former friend is going to be spending more than a few of his days always manages to lighten my mood. "I'm sure somebody will punch him in the face for you. Prison isn’t a fun place for guys like him."
I can't help but smile at the thought of Jeremiah and his father facing down the general population while they wait for their court dates.
And it turns out they have plenty of them.
Once Ansel Parks wasn’t around to rule with fear and threats, a whole lot of truths started being told. Truths that involved everything from conspiracy to money laundering to helping provide false alibis.
