Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 74875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Tall, muscular, a slight beard. No identifying tattoos—that I could see—except for one single one on the inside of his elbow, and even then I had to squint to see it because it was the same color as his skin.
“I’m here to talk to the pastor,” I interrupted her ogling. “Where is he?”
The woman’s eyes flicked to me, then she flinched.
“Oh, hello Mr. Casey.” She smiled, but I could tell it was strained. “Mr. Hanes is in with a friend right now at his home at the back of the church. He should be done with this appointment by eleven o’clock.”
There was no way in hell I was waiting until eleven o’clock to address this. It was happening now.
“Okay,” I shrugged. “We’ll be back at eleven then.”
The receptionist smiled warily, looking relieved that I wouldn’t be waiting, and waved timidly.
“Have a good day, Mr. Casey.”
It was then that I placed who she was. Marion Kent. She’d been a friend of Hennessy’s while in high school.
Was she still a friend?
I doubted it.
Rafe was nowhere to be found when I turned around, and I decided he’d have to catch up as I made my way out of the church.
However, when I rounded the corner of the building and started walking down the path that led to the house that the church allowed their pastor and his family to live in, I found Rafe standing next to the front door, arms and legs crossed as he leaned against a pillar.
“What the fuck?”
Rafe grinned.
“He’s fucking someone all right.”
I winced.
“Who?”
Rafe shrugged. “Tall brunette with gold highlights. Older.”
I knew instantly who it was.
“Goddammit.”
I knew exactly who Rafe was talking about, and I’d managed to avoid her since I’d gotten out of prison. It hadn’t been easy.
“Pretty sure you’re not supposed to take the Lord’s name in vain on church grounds.”
I laughed humorlessly at that.
“The Lord already knows that I’m a sinner,” I told him bluntly. “And I don’t plan on asking for forgiveness seeing as I’d do it again over and over if I ever had the chance or the need to do it again.”
Rafe shrugged, then levered himself off the pillar using just the strength in his legs.
“Want me to knock?”
I laughed and shook my head. “Knock?”
Then I pounded on the door before walking right in.
Stupid pastor thought he was invincible. He’d never locked it, which I’d found out one other time when I had to confront him when it came to my mother.
“Oh, mommy?” I bellowed. “Pastor Hanes! You have a visitor!”
It didn’t take long for both of them to arrive—thankfully clothed.
“Tate?” My mother said in confusion.
She looked like shit. Too old for her age of fifty-nine, but apparently the pastor still dug that. Her makeup was smeared, her lips swollen and bruised from what I could only assume was them kissing.
The thought of them doing anything at all turned my stomach, but I was here for Hanes. I’d be dealing with him despite the awkward situation.
“Get out of my house, sinner!” Hanes bellowed the moment he hit the doorway, still buttoning the collar of his white dress shirt.
Stupid mother fucker. Always with the white. God, he made me sick.
“I’m not going anywhere until we discuss the fact that you’re assaulting your daughter. Breaking and entering into her home,” I said.
The pastor’s face never changed. No surprise. No guilt. No nothing.
“I don’t know what you speak of,” he lied straight faced. “But if you don’t get out of my house, I’ll be charging you with breaking and entering.”
I smiled then, showing a row of straight white teeth.
“Yeah?” I grinned. “I’ll leave, but only after you hear this one thing first.”
Pastor Hanes didn’t say anything.
“You touch her, or I even think that you’re thinking about touching her, again, and I’ll end you.”
“Is that a threat?” Pastor Hanes’ voice rose.
I shrugged. “Take it as whatever you want to take it as, just know that if you touch her again, you’ll have me to deal with.”
“You have no right to tell me how to raise my daughter.”
I laughed at that. “Your daughter is well past grown. Trust me on this.”
I walked out before he could reply, again finding that Rafe was gone.
He also hadn’t caught back up by the time that I got to the truck, and I contemplated leaving him.
After five more minutes, I started the truck, thinking that maybe he’d wanted me to leave him.
But after another thirty seconds of waiting, I found him rounding the corner of the church again, walking slowly toward me.
When he got in, I rose my brows at him in question.
“Had some questions of my own,” he muttered. “Placed a bug, too.”
I frowned. “You just happened to have one of those in your pocket?”
He nodded, and I had no response to that.
This man was a whole lot more than what he seemed, and only left me with more questions than answers.