Page 129 of Through the Water

“How do you figure?” he mused. “I preach abstinence, and my youngest defiles herself with a baseball player. What will people say?”

My shoulders sagged under the weight of his grip. “I won’t say a word.”

Tristan released his hold on me and walked back to the fireplace, condemning Wuthering Heights to the same fate as Pride and Prejudice. The cover curled and blackened beneath the flames, but I remained silent.

One by one, I was forced to witness as the things I’d lovingly collected were charred beyond recognition. The only thing missing was Ashlynn’s Hurricane towel. I prayed it was because they hadn’t found it yet.

After stoking the fire, he leaned against the mantle, watching me with a hardened expression. “It’s not you I’m worried about, little dove. How many times did I warn you about people who would try to hurt you to get to me? Men like that live for scandal and would gladly take down everything we’ve built.”

I sucked in a ragged breath. “He wouldn’t—”

“You don’t even know him,” Tristan snapped bitterly, before dropping down into the chair behind his desk. The deep lines etched in his face made him look tired.

Tristan James, the titan, was gone.

This man was frail.

Fragile.

“I used to be a lot like you, Ariana. In fact, it’s how I got my start as a pastor. Did you know that?”

I shook my head, having always assumed he’d been born with a Bible in his hand.

He gazed into the fireplace again. “I don’t share it with many people. In fact, I think your mama might have been the last person I told. I used to think the world was a broken thing in need of fixing. So, after high school, I climbed into my old Chevy and traveled the country, preaching in any church that would have me. Most turned me away once they realized I hadn’t attended seminary, thinking a piece of paper made a difference. Not long after, the money ran out. Things got pretty desperate. I felt like a complete failure and decided to end it.”

My jaw went slack, but I said nothing.

“I was living in my truck at the time. One night, I sat there, turning the gun over in my hands, trying to work up the courage to do it when there was a tap on the door. Seeing it was an elderly woman, I cranked the window down and asked if she needed help. Do you know what she said to me?”

“No,” I whispered, my heart somewhere in my throat.

The corner of his mouth lifted. “She told me that God had a plan for my life and that I was going to be raised up to lead the flock back to the shepherd. My children would be known among nations, and all who saw would recognize them as a sign of God’s strength. I felt hope like I hadn’t in years when I came back here. I took out a loan to buy the land we’re on and set us apart from the world.

“You see, salvation was meant to be exclusive. Once I figured that out, the flock began arriving in droves, just as the old woman had said. Your sisters were born with dark hair and, for the most part, were quiet babies. Not you, though,” he chuckled softly.

The flames in the fireplace flickered, casting eerie orange shadows across his face and making his smile seem sinister. The hairs on the nape of my neck lifted. I hugged myself while my mind scrambled to decode the danger in his words.

His smile faded, and he bit down on his lower lip. “You came into this world with a cry so loud it could be heard beyond the walls of the community. You looked just like your mama with those wild red curls. I thought it was a sign you were special. Instead, you’ve ripped the prophecy to shreds by sinning against yourself.”

“Is that all I am to you?” I asked, fighting back tears. “An unfulfilled prophecy? A threat to your kingdom? All I’ve ever wanted was for you to love me like you love the church!”

“I do love you, Ariana,” Tristan admitted quietly, leaning forward to rest his forearms against the desk. “You know, if I’m honest, Brad isn’t the man I imagined you marrying. There’s a softness about you that the world’s never been able to touch. And you have a heart like your mama’s, always seeing the good in everything.”

As much as I’d steeled myself for this meeting, I was not prepared for this. I’d tried hardening my heart, but his words had undone everything. I began to weep over the idiocy of it all. He’d taken the people I loved away but left me with the very thing I’d wanted since I was five.

Why were my prayers answered now? And why had it come at Killian’s expense?

“If you love me, why’d you sell me to a man who would do this?” I countered with a sob, lifting my chin to expose the marks on my throat. “He started sneaking into my room when I was eleven, wanting to know if I’d bled yet and reciting scriptures at me like they were curses. Maybe I destroyed a prophecy, but you—you let evil into your house!”

I slapped a hand over my mouth and collapsed against the back of the chair, shaking uncontrollably.

I’d done it.

“Brad? I didn’t know—” Tristan made a choking noise, the color draining from his face. “You never said a word.”

“He said no one would believe me.”

“If I’d known it was happening, I would have dealt with it then. Brad is my business partner… my friend.” Something like grief clouded his features. He cleared his throat and slow-blinked until the mask of indifference fell back into place.

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