Page 32 of Before the Storm
“Not everyone and I don’t know what happened, only that someone hurt you.”
“How can you tell?” Her lungs burned with every breath. The desire to run muscled into her mind. Packing up her things had become easy. Moving from town to town and finding a job and a place to live hadn’t been hard. She’d learned to live on very little.
She could do it all again if she had to.
But she didn’t want to. Lake George had been the first place she landed where she felt like she could make it her home. Phoenix and his brothers had made her feel welcome. Brandi and Hensley treated her like a part of the family. They checked in with her regularly. Asked if she needed anything and genuinely seemed as though they liked her and Janelle enjoyed their company.
And their kids.
It differed from spending time with her sister wives’ children or families in the compound.
“It comes from all my time working with women like you,” he said softly. “I feel like I might have stalled the conversation by trying to make you feel more comfortable. I’m sorry.”
“The problem is I doubt you’ve ever come across anyone like me before.”
“I’ve seen a lot at the shelter.”
She’d never heard the wordcultbefore until she’d left the compound. She was born and raised in the religion. Kept from the outside world and sheltered from their opinion of what her father had done to the church. She knew the people on the other side of the walls wanted to destroy them and the work of God. But she didn’t understand why, except they were the devil.
“You might want to buckle up for this story.” It was now or never. She snagged the glass and took three big gulps. She’d heard it called liquid courage at the bar before, and right now, she needed it. Every fiber of her being screamed to release the beast. To purge the burden that she’d carried for the lastthree years. “My life isn’t something that most people have ever experienced.”
“My career isn’t anything that the average person could comprehend. I doubt you’ll shock me.”
She blew out a puff of air. “My great-grandfather was a preacher of a fundamentalist Christian church. When I was young, while the doctrine was strict, it allowed for plural marriage.”
“Excuse me? As in a man having more than one wife?”
“Exactly.”
“That’s not right.”
“Growing up, I didn’t know any better. And to be honest, while it isn’t something I would want to ever experience again?—”
“Again? You were married to a man who had more than one wife?”
“Can you let me get through this? I’ve never told it to anyone and you’re making it harder for me.”
“I’m sorry. Go ahead.”
“Polygamy by itself isn’t necessarily bad. I’ve seen it work when everyone is a willing participant. But it comes with its own set of challenges. However, things in the church began to change when my father took over. It got stricter. We already had little contact with the outside world, and it became less. When my biological mother died, my father started arranging marriages. He said that God spoke directly to him and in order for our flock to grow and spread the word, this was what the good Lord wanted us to do.”
“Jesus. He married you off when you were underage, didn’t he?”
She nodded.
“Motherfucker.” Phoenix ran his fingers through his hair and abruptly stood. He turned and gripped the railing. “How old were you?”
“Seventeen,” she whispered.
“And when you finally left?”
“Twenty-three,” she managed.
“Was both your father and husband abusive?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever report them?” He glanced over his shoulder.
