Page 66 of Relentless

Remaining noticeably quiet, Susan turned the steering wheel onto the main road. Harper detected an awkward tension building between them as the van navigated toward Pastor Underwood’s home.

Harper’s apprehension was rising, and she felt pressed to anxiously fill the silence. “You always promise that you’ll be discreet.” She bit her lip hard, wondering if it was safe to voice her concerns. “I think my parents would be pretty mad if they found out.”

Susan’s refusal to offer any response at all was like an unmistakable holy hush of judgment.

Pulling up in front of the Underwood’s home, she shifted the van into park.

“Harper,” Susan finally spoke up with a heavy sigh. “Do you think this is some kind of a joke?”

Squeezing her fists tight, Harper felt her nails bite into her palms. “Why would I?”

“You really don’t take anything seriously, do you,” Susan accused, her voice rising as she began to sharply reprimand. “Out at all hours, drunk and partying —”

“Hooking up with Chet,” Delia slurred from the backseat.

“Delia!” Harper snapped, her eyes going wide.

Susan gasped.

“It’s not what you think,” Harper stammered, grasping for any explanation that would dig her out of the ever-deepening pit.

The youth pastor’s wife pursed her lips tightly shut once again, and flipped her keys in the ignition. Pushing her door open, Susan stepped out onto the pavement.

“Wait, where are you going?” Harper’s words came quickly now as panic filled her chest. “I thought you were cool about stuff like this, you always say —”

“Normally, I would becool,“ Susan replied. “But this time, you’ve stepped too far,” she sighed, her dark eyebrows gathering. “I just don’t know what to do with you anymore.”

“Susan, please, my dad —” she pleaded, grabbing Susan’s arm. “Well, um.” Feeling the pressure of her father’s reputation on the line, Harper pivoted. There was no way to safely convey that there was more at stake for her than the righteously indignant woman could ever imagine.

“My dad’s going to be pretty mad.”

“I know he’s tough on you, Harper,” Susan answered. Her eyebrows pulled together, and her voice was loaded with false sympathy. “But that’s because he loves you — we all love you.”

She took Harper by the shoulders and embraced her in a tight hug.

“Now, I’ve prayed about this,” she affirmed, “and I can assure you, what’s done in the dark will be brought to the light.”

A sad smile spread across her face.

“Trust me — you’ll thank me someday.”

Harper’s mouth went dry.

Noticing the spatters of vomit and beer down her shirt, she trailed Susan to the porch. Her mind raced, and her heart beat fast, as she felt the drive to bolt down the street and never return.

Maeve’s in there.

Susan rapped her knuckles sharply on the door. A few moments passed, and she raised her fist to knock again.

“It’ll be fine, Harper,” Susan assured. “You’ll see.”

Before her hand again connected with the door, it swung open to reveal Pastor Underwood’s stern face. Harper lifted her eyes to see her mother peeking out timidly beside him. The couple were wearing bathrobes over their pajamas and a matching appalled expression of surprise at the sight of their daughter standing in the dim glow of the porchlight.

As though it were her holy obligation, Susan rattled off every sordid detail of Harper’s behavior.

Harper watched the anger quietly building behind her father’s eyes as her mother clutched at the string of pearls that were always around her neck.

“Thank you, Susan,” Harris responded in a warm, fatherly tone that he only used in the presence of company. “So sorry to put you through this tonight.”

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