Rowdy (Marked Men #5)(90)
Exiting church took forever. Everyone had to say hello. Everyone had to stop and shake my father’s hand and tell him how much they appreciated his kind words and giving nature. I had to literally bite my tongue when more than one person muttered under their breath about the shock that they had felt about what had happened with Oliver and my sister. The sympathy the churchgoers so readily offered my father and mother as they told them to stay strong during this trying time made me see red. The fact that the lunatic that had held my sister hostage, put a gun to her head, and beat her senseless more than once had been so skilled at hiding all of his evilness while my sister suffered alone and in silence made my insides boil with rage. The injustice of it all left a vile taste in my mouth and had fury coiling tight along my spine.
Rowdy had gotten Poppy home without incident, but once they were in Denver, my sister had started to break down. She was a mess and Rowdy was at a loss as to how to help her. Poppy didn’t want to be at my apartment, she didn’t want to be alone with him at his place, so out of desperation Rowdy had called Sayer and asked her to take both of them in until I got home. Luckily Sayer had plenty of room at her Victorian and she was well versed in how to handle my sister in her fragile state. Sayer Cole was turning out to be a lifesaver, and the fact that she had dropped everything to pursue the same man I had pursued was undeniably fortuitous, and I was so grateful she had found her way into our lives. Rowdy’s endless prophesizing that all things happened for a reason really did seem to be true. There was a lot of really nasty stuff and a lot of really ugly bumps in the road we had all had to overcome, but in the end it really felt like all of us had ended up exactly where we were supposed to be. For me, I knew without a doubt that was wherever Rowdy was at, but I felt like it rang true for Poppy and Sayer as well.
I was the last one to leave. I felt like I was saying good-bye to this life and this place the right way this time. I wasn’t running in a blind panic. I wasn’t sacrificing all the good that was in my life just to escape the bad. I was leaving on my own terms and taking a stand to prevent any of the evil that lived here from reaching out and getting its tentacles into me and my sister ever again.
I smoothed my hair down. Tugged at the hem of my shirt and took a deep breath. I wasn’t nervous so much as I was anxious and ready for it to all be over with. I had to squint into the sun when I exited the church doors. My mother and father were standing on the top step waving to the last of the parishioners as they exited the parking lot for the rest of their Sunday afternoon. I flinched away when my mom reached out a hand to touch me. After ten years . . . it had been so long, they looked older and far less impressive than I remembered. I saw my dad’s eyes skate over all the tattooed skin that was exposed by my white, ruffled top and immediately saw the censure and disgust rise up in his gaze.
“It wasn’t bad enough that you desecrated our home with your lack of morals and lack of respect, you had to go and violate your body in an unholy way as well?” He shook his dark head at me like I really had shamed him in some unforgivable way. “Why am I not surprised?”
At another point in time that dig would’ve stung. It would have made me feel guilty for the choice to wear art on my body and for claiming my skin as my own, but now I saw it for what it was, a desperate attempt to belittle me, a way to exert his control and put me back under his disapproving thumb. I lifted an eyebrow at him and looked back and forth between him and my mom.
“I didn’t think you would want to do this here on the steps of the church, where any of your followers might happen by, but that’s fine by me. I don’t have anything to hide. Can you say the same thing, Dad?”
I saw my mom start out of the corner of my eye and saw my dad’s shoulder tense just a fraction. My mom reached out again and this time I let her fingers land on my forearm.
“It’s been ten years, Salem. This is not a proper homecoming.”
I laughed, an actual laugh, and shook her off. “No, and that’s because this has never been any kind of home.” I tucked some of my hair behind my ears and glared hard at both of them.
“You ran me out of town on purpose when I was too young to know any better. You made it impossible for me to stay, and as a result you destroyed Poppy and you forced me to leave the only boy I ever loved behind.” I poked my dad squarely in the center of his chest and saw the way his eyes flared with veritable hatred for me. “I see it now. You knew I wasn’t going to break, wasn’t going to come to heel, so you made it so that I couldn’t stay and would never come back. Well, I’ll hand it to you, you won that round, Dad.”
He scoffed at me and wrapped his arm around my mother’s shoulders. I thought I saw her flinch but I wasn’t about to break eye contact with him, so I couldn’t be sure.
“You were willful and godless. You were wrapped up in a boy that was too young and had no family. There was no good in you, Salem. It was the best thing for this family for you to go out on your own. Your sister would have fallen victim to your heathen ways.”
I rolled my eyes. “My heathen ways led me to a wonderful career, a life full of great friends, and put me back on the path to the guy you forced me away from. My heathen ways led me to exactly where I was always supposed to be. You turned your daughter, your own flesh and blood, into a victim, into a shell of herself, because she was so scared of disappointing you. You nearly got her killed. How do you think your parishioners would feel about that, Dad?”