Page 84 of My Vows Are Sealed

“I love you too.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she chuckled. “Go.”

I stole another kiss, then reluctantly stood up and walked out the door, making sure to lock it behind me.

As I got into my car and drove toward the church I’d been attending for as long as I could remember, my chest started to tighten and my fingers gripped the steering wheel so tight that my knuckles turned white. I honestly didn’t know how I was supposed to sit in those pews and look up at that pulpit, knowing that the man who was spouting Bible verses at us had come a hair’s breadth away from sexually assaulting his own daughter last night. I’d barely been able to stomach his sermons since he’d basically admitted to abusing Darla while the whole congregation ate it up with a spoon almost four years ago, but now? Now, it was going to take superhuman strength for me to stop myself from beating the shit out of him in front of that entire congregation.

When I pulled into the parking lot, I saw my parents and Nathan walking toward the building, and inspiration struck. I knew exactly how to bring my girl’s spirits back up.

It had been pretty hilarious – and equally adorable – last year when, out of the blue one afternoon, Nathan told Darla and I that he wasn’t stupid and he knew we were boyfriend and girlfriend. He understood why we weren’t telling anyone and he’d been keeping our secret ever since, so I knew he’d be able to handle not telling anyone about her hiding out at my apartment while we were figuring things out. And if anyone could put a smile on Darla’s face right now, it was him.

I took the key out of the ignition and grabbed my Bible off the front seat, then jogged up behind my brother and caught him in a headlock, giving him a noogie.

“Aw, come on, Brendan!” he complained. “Why’d you mess my hair up?”

“I thought that was the big brother’s job. To mess up the hair of all younger siblings,” I teased as I let go of him.

“No, it’s not!” he groaned, trying to smooth his hair down.

“I see you’re coming to church again,” my mom bit out.

I rolled my eyes. We’d been over this. Numerous times. And I knew it wasn’t really my work hours and lack of church attendance that had her behaving like this toward me. It was the fact that I’d moved out of the house and forced her to start being an actual parent to her son.

“While I’m working on this site, anyway,” I said, using all of my willpower not to turn this into a fight. I wanted something from her, and if I stooped down to her level, the chances of my getting it went down. “Do you guys have plans this afternoon?”

“No. Why?” my dad asked.

“Can Nate come home with me between services? I’ll bring him back to the service tonight myself. We haven’t gotten to hang out in a while.”

Yep. I was subjecting myself to having to listen to Poser – I mean Pastor – Abraham Jones twice in one day just so Nathan could come home with me this afternoon. That was how sure I was that seeing him was exactly what Darla needed right now.

“Please, Dad?” Nathan begged, giving both of them his best puppy dog eyes.

“I guess,” he sighed.

“Yes!” Nathan exclaimed, fist-pumping the air like he’d just won the lottery.

I laughed and ruffled his hair again, and he turned and narrowed his eyes at me as he grated his hand over it to smooth it back down. I tried not to laugh, but I wasn’t entirely successful, and a snicker escaped me. Even at seven going on sixteen with an attitude to match, he was still the only one other than Darla who could make me smile no matter what was happening in my life.

* * *

“Brendan,” I heard a breathless voice say from behind me as I was about to open the door to the sanctuary.

I turned around and found a panicked-looking Naomi standing next to Alex, who looked equally as upset.

“Hey, guys. What’s up?” I asked, wishing like hell that we were alone so I could really talk to them.

“Naomi,” Abraham’s voice boomed from behind us, so loud that it made me jump.

My heart started racing at a million miles a minute and my hand involuntarily balled into a fist as I turned to look at him. His eyes were hard and angry and his hair was unkempt, like he hadn’t even bothered to take a brush to it when he got out of bed this morning. And the scowl he was wearing made him look like the monster he was.

“Yes, Pastor Jones?” Naomi said quietly.

“Where. Is. Darla?” he growled.

“What are you talking about, sir?” she murmured, putting on a hell of an act.

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