Saint Sloan (Saint Sloan #1)(2)

“AND WE ARE SO GRATEFUL TO have Donna back with us.” Pastor Dan Neal beamed from the pulpit. He pointed to the elderly lady in the front row, her normal seat, and the congregation of about fifty souls clapped. Sloan clapped louder than them all. In the five months since her attack, Sloan had visited Donna numerous times in the nursing home. She’d always called it a social visit, but it was always more. As the only church-going person Sloan knew, Donna could be counted on to help her out with some situations she couldn’t talk to anyone else about. Well, she could, but they didn’t give as good of advice as Donna.

When she still hurt months after her attack, especially her cheek that had a three-inch telltale reminder of her nightmare, her best friend Mackenzie had told her to keep taking her pain pills. They were for pain, and pain she’d been in. Donna had warned that she was taking too many and was very close to becoming dependent on them for any sort of relief. Donna had even hinted that the pain might be psychosomatic, a deduction Sloan hadn’t exactly agreed with, but had appreciated.

When she’d talked to her mother about the Hunter brothers, her mom had advised her to pick one and not string the other along. Donna’d had another theory. She’d said to let things go naturally. Eventually, the right one for her would fall into place. In the meantime, she shouldn’t commit to either one of them. Her mom had called it stringing them both along. Donna had said as long as she told them the truth, it wasn’t. Sloan had told them the truth, and both Aaron and Ray had seemed okay with it.

Since then, there was rarely a Saturday night they didn’t go out together, all three of them. She always sat between them and never felt like she had to choose, though she wondered how long the guys would be okay with it. Donna said God would work it out, and she needed to trust Him.

So there Sloan sat at church, clapping for the return of her friend Donna and sitting between the Hunter brothers — Aaron on the right, Ray on the left — trusting God to work it out. Thankfully, the school had worked out one issue among the three.

Prom.

The prom was Friday and, as per school policy, only students from the school could attend. That left Ray as her date. Aaron had never said anything negative about it, though he did sort of huff every once in a while when they were making date plans. It would be the first time she and Ray would be out by themselves. If she wanted to be honest, it made her nervous. This was the most real date she’d been on since Boyd, and that hadn’t ended well.

Sloan’s eyes automatically locked on the prayer board behind Pastor Dan. Every week, they would request prayers for different people. Some were on there every week. Boyd Lawrence was one of those people. Boyd had been in a wheelchair since December, since Sloan had knocked him back into a door facing. He was in rehab, but it wasn’t certain if he’d ever be able to walk again. For her part, Sloan hoped not. She hated to be that way, especially in church, but Boyd was evil. He’d attacked her in her house, tried to rape her twice. And if it hadn’t been for Aaron, he probably would have killed her. He was a psychopath in her book, and not one she ever wanted to see again.

It hurt. It honestly did because at one time she’d loved him, or thought she had. She’d trusted him, slept with him, and told him everything important in her life. Then she’d gotten saved, and he couldn’t deal. She supposed she should have seen the writing on the wall before it got as bad as it had. He’d always been a bit clingy, sort of manipulative, and liked to tell her what to do. Still, he was Boyd Lawrence. He’d never hurt her.

Except he had.

And now he was paying for it in a wheelchair, confined to his house and awaiting his trial in a few months.

It had been a while since she’d thought of him on her own, actually. She tried as hard as she could to move past everything he’d done to her, everything he’d done to Aaron and Ray… and Darcy, her former tormentor. He’d attacked her too. Darcy and Sloan had come to a sort of truce after the Boyd debacle, but they still weren’t best friends like they had been in the past. They smiled at each other in the halls and were cordial. No sleepovers or hair braiding, though. That was asking too much from both of them.

“Please stand for the altar call song.” Pastor Dan raised his hands, and everyone stood. Sloan looked around confused and did the same. When had the preaching stopped? Hadn’t he just started? Hadn’t they just stood up and welcomed Donna back? The clock said 10:55. Twenty minutes since the last time she’d looked.

Wow. Time sure flew when her mind wandered and she didn’t pay attention to the sermon. She felt sort of bad about that. Hopefully, it hadn’t been one of those life-altering sermons that changed a person’s entire thinking on life. She’d totally missed out on it.

The congregation sang hymn number one sixty-two. One she had never heard before about power being in the blood. The blood, of course, was Jesus. The image of another blood source flooded her mind: Boyd’s blood running from his nose and mouth when he fell against the door at that horrible angle. Thinking about it, the gnawing pain in her ribs and leg got worse, and she wanted a pain pill so bad. Nothing horrible. Nothing even prescription. An over-the-counter one would do just fine. Generic even. Anything to take the throbbing away.

Lost in her own thoughts, she sang the song the best she could, occasionally flicking her eyes at the altar to see if anyone had gone yet. She hadn’t gotten saved at the old wooden piece of furniture, but a lot of people had.