CHAPTER ONE
KILLIAN
Iwas their protector.
Was.
I couldn’t see clearly. She confused everything, and I did what I had to, in order to protect my brothers. In the end, I didn’t protect anyone, not even myself. I thought she would be the one who would cost us everything, but I was wrong. It was me.
Hindsight is a fucking bitch. Or maybe it’s karma.
A loss like this feels like an anvil as it crushes my chest, stealing the breath from my lungs.
I stare out at the empty field, a pool of Heather’s blood still visible through the mud and rain, and wish I could go back in time and change everything.
The lightning strikes, creating sharp, bold, angry lines in the sky. Thunder rumbles, shaking the very ground beneath me. It’s as if God himself is telling me what a fuck-up I am.
I fall to my knees as a sob erupts from my chest.
“Please help me!”
Aside from the storm, there’s nothing but silence all around me. Nobody is coming to save me from myself. There is no undoing what I have created.
Destruction.
CHAPTER TWO
THE HEATHEN
August 2007
Eight Years Old…
Daddy gotout of prison yesterday and brought his new friend to our house. I watch the man as he moves through the rooms, telling Daddy what rooms are best for worship and which ones will work for punishment.
John Steve spends a lot of time staring at me, and I don’t like it. He has long white hair and a full beard, just like my dad now. Mama said they met in jail, and he showed Daddythe way.He did bad things, and that’s why the police took him away. John Steve helped him get saved, and even baptised him. Mama says he saved Daddy’s soul.
“We’ve been living as sinners. Today that changes. Everything we do will be to earn favor with our Lord.”
I glance at my sister, Abigail, who stands across the room with my Aunt Sophie. My sister shrugs her shoulders, like she doesn’t know what’s going on either. My dad has been in prisonsince we were little. Even Abby doesn’t remember him much, and she’s three years older than me.
I look around the room and take in how different it was only two days ago.
There’s a big white cross on the wall on the other side of the room, with a large bag of rice sitting on the floor. I heard John Steve say it was a prayer spot. That doesn’t sound bad. Mama taught us to pray at a young age, and I don’t mind it. There’s also a wooden thing Daddy called a podium, and a bunch of white chairs in front of it, like at my school.
“Our family needs to grow. John will be joining us. He and Abigail will marry, once she’s ready.”
I gasp loudly, and Mama grabs my wrist and squeezes hard in warning.
“She’s eleven, Mama,” I say in a hushed voice.
Gripping my arm tighter, she pulls me to the cross and narrows her gaze at me.
“It’s no surprise that you’re the first to be punished. You will learn to obey. Do you want to burn in Hell?”
The tears come quickly, and I swipe them away with my free hand.
“No, Mama. I want to go to Heaven.”
