Page 139 of Through the Flames
I took a few papers out of my jacket and put them on the table. They were bank statements and screenshots, all of which included timestamps. Each one was evidence of the donations he’d quietly pocketed from the church over time.
“Every dollar you thought you stole without anyone noticing,” I stated. “I have it all. Every discrepancy. So, unless you do exactly as I say, your wife, your pastor, your congregation — every single person — will see it. Every last cent accounted for.”
He swallowed hard, and his body trembled, although he tried to conceal it. “I—I don’t know what to—”
“You know exactly what to do,” I said, stepping closer.
My shadow fell over him, pressing down. He could feel it in his chest, in his stomach. I wasn’t threatening; I was simply pointing out what was going to happen.
“Call them. You’ll tell them yourself what you’ve been hiding, or I’ll make it public in ways that will destroy everything you’ve built. Tonight.”
His fingers shook as he grabbed the phone. Each call cracked his composure, each confession gutted him. He tried to hold his head high, but the truth of what he had done to those who trusted him landed like a hammer.
By the time I stepped out into the cold night, Stetson was left with only himself, unraveling under the weight of his own decisions, all of which were tied back to what he had done to her.
They’d tried to ruin her life carelessly, but ultimately, they were the ones who ended up paying the price.
By the time I got back in the truck, the night was thinning into morning.
When I climbed back into bed, Ella stirred, murmuring my name like she felt me there even in her sleep. I pulled her closer, pressing my face into her hair. Her heartbeat was steady against my chest.
I’d told her no one would ever treat her this way again. Tonight, I made sure of it.
***
By the time Ella and I made our way down the hall the next morning, the house smelled like bacon and coffee. Sunlight weakly spilled through the curtains, touching the walls, as if trying to pretend nothing had changed.
But I knew better. The whole town was already burning under the weight of its secrets.
Ella was still half asleep, her hand brushing mine as we moved toward the stairs, when her mother’s voice stopped us in our tracks.
It wasn’t her normal morning tone. This was sharp and rushed, the kind of whisper people use when they want to contain the gossip but can’t help feeding it.
“—I’m telling you, it’s all people are talking about. Carver’s wife threw him out last night. She found the gambling slips and said he’d been hiding debt for years. Mason’s suspended from the plant. They dug up that old DUI, and now the county’s sniffing around his contracts. And Stetson …”
There was a pause, heavy with satisfaction. “Stetson’s wife is gone. Packed up, took the kids to her sister’s. The church board held an emergency meeting. Those nasty little clips are all over the congregation. He won’t be able to walk into Sunday service without everyone looking at him sideways.”
As it turned out, Stetson had quite a few kinks himself, despite publicly shaming my girl for hers. Among those was a pretty extensive degradation kink he vicariously lived out online with a Domme.
What a shame someone had sent some of the videos he recorded for her to the local church.Quite the scandal, if I do say so myself.
Ella stiffened. I felt her body jerk beside mine as her breath caught in her throat. I moved without thinking, clamping my hand over her mouth before she could make a sound.
Her eyes flew to mine, wide, stunned, demanding answers I wasn’t going to give her here.
Down the hall, Darlene’s voice dropped in pitch and took on a fierceness I hadn’t heard from her before. “It serves them right, after what they did to her. But don’t you dare say a word to Ella. She’s been through enough. I don’t want her dragged into this all over again.”
The floor creaked as she shifted. A cupboard slammed shut, followed by the scrape of a chair across the kitchen tile.
I held Ella against me for a moment longer, feeling her pulse race against my palm, before letting her go. She sucked in a shaky breath, the disbelief written plain across her face.
She didn’t need to say anything. I could see it all in her eyes: the realization, the questions, and the sharp edge of knowing yet not wanting to know.
I gave her a slow, deliberate smirk, the kind that made it clear I wasn’t sorry and never would be. Then, as casually as anything, I stepped past her and strolled into the kitchen.
Her mother looked up, startled for half a second, before her expression smoothed over. “Morning, Hunter. Coffee’s on.”
I poured myself a mug like I hadn’t just overheard her gossiping about my nightly adventures. Bacon sizzled in the pan, and the radio hummed some forgettable country song.
