She sat there with her legs spread and her finger in her cunt while staring at the building. “Why are we here?”
“I told you, it’s my job to ensure all evacuation points are ready. Your father’s church is on that list.”
Her eyes swung from me to the building and back.
It was show time.
“Now, would you like to keep fingering yourself?” I held up a set of keys and jingled them. “Or would you like to join me inside?”
This was where her wall was built and was where I’d tear it down.
The white cross standing on the black roof should be comforting. My family ran this church, and I should be excited at the possibility of escape. But I hated this place.
If I were given a choice to destroy one building in Ashen Springs, this would be the place. I wouldn’t even care if people were inside when I lit the match. God didn’t rule here. Corruption did.
I learned that lesson when I was eight, and my father whipped me in front of the entire congregation. Not one single person said anything. They just sat there, chanting their holy prayers while I pleaded for mercy.
“Now, would you like to keep fingering yourself, or would you like to join me inside?”
Shit.
Stopping my attempt at self-ministrations, I quickly smoothed my skirt back into place. As much as I wanted to forget this church existed, I couldn’t stop mortification from burning down my neck as guilt welled up in my chest. The word ‘dirty’ chanted through my thoughts, mingling with my father’s voice.
‘The deeds of the flesh are immoral and impure.’
‘Cursed is she who lies with a tainted soul.’
‘Pray for salvation.’
The only thing that quieted my mind was Preston’s body leaning over me to unlock the cuff around my wrist. I stared at his back, watching his jean jacket move with his shoulders, and another voice rang through my head.
‘That’s a pretty dress, Marnie.’
I don’t know why or what changed, but disgust made me squirm away. Every time I looked at that jacket, my stomach churned. The miscolored patch near the top of the right arm and the black spot on the cuff disturbed me. Hang on…
A hand reaching out…
Fingers curling around the strap of my dress…
And a denim cuff with a black spot…
My breath hitched. “It’s his jacket.”
That was why it bothered me because it came from Nash. It had to. What were the odds of two jackets having the exact same stain?
Preston sat up and cocked a brow. “What?”
Did that mean that Preston killed him? Nash’s family died in a fire, or so we were told. That, of course, didn’t mean anything. The amount of fake news out there was astounding. And Nash was one of the men responsible for breaking Ava, so it wouldn’t be surprising if Preston did something to him.
“If I asked you something, would you answer it?”
“Depends on what you ask.”
That was fair. If I were being honest, I’d tell myself to shut up. The less I knew, the better, but a fire was too easy of an out for someone like Nash. I needed to hear that he suffered. I wanted all the details of his screams and pain, how he begged for his life and died in the same hell that he cast his victims in.
I needed it so badly that I couldn’t stop the words from coming out. “Did you kill Nash?”
“Define kill,” Preston asked back.
