I roll my ring on the altar podium, the cool metal grounding me in this moment of helplessness. I glance at my watch—nine fifty p.m. Ten minutes until I have to stand before a congregation of people I can barely stand to look at, let alone preach to. They disgust me, every last one of them, but I play my part because it’s what’s expected of me.
Had David not made that agreement with me, had he not sworn to let me be the one to discipline Eden, I would’ve torn him apart the moment he laid a hand on her. But I had to hold back, I had to keep playing this twisted game to protect her. To figure out what the fuck was going on with those kids. The only reason he hasn’t punished her further is that he still believes she’s been fulfilling her service hours with me, and I’ve done everything in my power to keep that lie alive.
After he dragged her out of the church and hurt her in the parking lot, he had the nerve to apologize to me as if that could erase the damage he’d done. He swore he wouldn’t touch her again, that he’d leave the punishment to me as if that somehow made it better.
So I slashed his car tires. It was the only thing I could do to release the anger boiling inside me, the only way I could make him pay without exposing everything. But it wasn’t enough. Nothing I do feels like enough when I see the cuts on her arms, raw and jagged, a testament to the pain she’s endured. And all I can think about is how I’ve failed her.
The minute I saw the blood on his car keys, I knew I had to walk away—I had to force myself to leave before my whole congregation bore witness to me killing the man in broad daylight.The urge to tear him apart was almost unbearable, but I managed to resist, if only by a thread.
Since then, my phone has been silent. My sheets still carry the faint scent of her, a cruel reminder of what I’ve lost. Even now, as I sit here, I can’t stop wondering just how much time Luca has spent with her, the itch to check on her growing stronger with each passing minute. I want to make sure she gets off her late shift safely, to know that she’s okay, but I stay put, wrestling with my own demons.
Every night, I park near her house, keeping a careful distance. I watch, vigilant and ready to break in the moment I sense something is wrong. It’s a sick sort of penance, this self-imposed watch, but it’s the only thing that keeps me sane. Letting her get hurt in front of me feels worse than any sin I could commit. It’s a betrayal of everything I swore to protect—worse than accepting the Devil himself.
Repenting does no good. The prayers that once brought solace now only make the guilt fester. In my life, I’ve made many mistakes, but none as great as what happened on Tuesday.
I glance down at the detailed plan in front of me, a blueprint for vengeance that I’ve been refining since the moment David Faulkner laid his filthy hands on her. The demons he unleashed within me prowl the very space I stand in, turning this cathedral into something far from holy. They whisper to me, urging me to do what needs to be done.
I want to watch them all burn. I want to see this place, this twisted cult, consumed by flames—with her at my side, free from the shackles that bind us both.
"Roman," Zoey's father beams, interrupting my dark reverie. My hand moves quickly, tucking the paper away as I give him a once-over, trying to suppress the disgust rising within me.
"I’m Seth. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced." He extends his hand toward me, his smile forced.
"Right," I mutter, scanning the cathedral for any sign of the other members of this godforsaken cult, hoping to find something—anything—to distract me from the bile rising in my throat.
"First meeting?" He asks, attempting to make small talk, his tone earnest but grating.
"Yeah, is it that obvious?" I reply with a tight smile, forcing out a laugh that sounds as hollow as it feels. He chuckles nervously in return, clearly unsettled by my demeanor.
Crossing his arms across his chest, he glances around the cathedral, then back at me. "It's a damn shame what happened on Tuesday with Faulkner's girl," He sighs, his eyes briefly meeting mine before looking away. "One more outburst from her, and David might consider swapping Zoey for Eden on that roster—"
Something snaps inside me, a thread pulled too tight for too long, finally breaking. Before I can stop myself, the words spill out, cold and deadly. "If you ever suggest that again, I’ll kill you."
The air between us stills, Seth’s voice stopping mid-sentence as his face drains of color. He stares at me, eyes wide, struggling to process what I’ve just said.
"Father, I—"
"Say her name one more fucking time, or even insinuate that any of you dirty bastards will lay a hand on her, and I’ll crackyour skull against this floor," I whisper, my voice low and deadly as I slowly turn my head his way.
Seth’s confusion is palpable as he takes a step back, his bravado slipping away. "David said you were one of us—"
"Did he?" I tilt my head, letting the deep-rooted hatred within me claw its way to the surface. "Did he also tell you he molests his son and fucks your wife when you’re not home?" The knowledge I’ve gathered on these people runs deep, far deeper than they could ever imagine.
They have their resources. I have mine.
"You’re no fucking follower—"
"I’m not," I admit, following him down the steps with a deliberate slowness. "But David Faulkner has some deep ties to someone I care about more than anything, which is why you, Seth, are going to be my eyes and ears," I smile, reaching into the podium to retrieve the thick file I’ve prepared.
Seth shakes his head, lowering his gaze as if searching for an escape. "Why the fuck would I help you?" He mutters, his voice betraying the fear simmering beneath the surface.
I toss the papers toward him, watching as they flutter to the ground at his feet. "I have all of that on a drive, ready to go to a friend of mine closely tied to the FBI. David was smart—he tied your name to all the cars that transport the kids. Everything leads back to you, Seth. So you’re going to help me create a clear paper trail leading straight to David, Kevin, and anyone else involved in this fucked up shit," I hiss, my words dripping with contempt.
"Lay a hand on Zoey, or even think about Eden, and I’ll release all of it—and I’ll kill you before DHS can even bust down your door," I grin, the threat hanging heavy in the air between us.
"Jesus Christ—" Seth’s voice trembles, but I cut him off, closing the distance between us in an instant.
"No Jesus, Seth. Just me," I scold, watching him flinch as I drive the pointed end of a small letter opener just below his ribcage, the cold metal sinking into his flesh with ease. "One twist of my wrist, and it’ll kill you before you can even make it to the hospital. A little trick I learned on my second tour overseas. But, as long as you make it through this meeting without opening your mouth, I’ll gladly help you pull it out."
