Page 54 of The Truth

Twenty minutesafter that woman had arrived, Ayla was kneeling by the flowerbed, the afternoon sun finally burning through the clouds, turning the earth warm beneath her hands. She balanced herself better, and leaned to tug at a thick root twisted around what she thought was a mini-rose bush.

She liked it when her muscles cooperated without argument. It made the small stuff feel even better. Shelikedit here at his church. It felt welcoming. As if everyone could belong there. She’d been in a few churches before where it was the exact opposite. Only thoselikethe ones who attended were welcome. And that was just the exact opposite of how itshouldbe. Whatever had happened to welcoming people? There was a bible verse she thought that said something about welcoming angels and guests and not knowing it. That had always stuck with her—she’d had a foster family who had taken her to church every week for several months. And she’d actually felt welcomed with them.

Rather like the Hillers had welcomed her and Aubrey—even before Aubrey and Guthrie had started making goober eyes at each other and everything.

A truck pulled in. For a moment she thought it was his friend, Pastor Wil.

But it was a man she thought she’d seen before. Wearing a security guard uniform shirt. For the hospital.

Ayla tried to stand. “Hello… ”

“Deal with her!” the older man, in the guard shirt said. He had two guys younger than he was with him. They were ugly and dirty. And she justknew…they weren’t going to be doing good things today.

She braced herself to run, but her left crutch was still on the ground at her feet. Ayla couldn’t run. She couldn’t.

She opened her mouth, to yell for Gunn and Emerson.

The older man lunged at her. His hand covered her mouth. Heliftedher right off her feet.

His breath hit her cheek. "Don't you dare scream, girl. I’ve dealt with girls like you before. You won’t like what happens."

She tried. It came out muffled, caught behind his fingers. Her teeth caught the side of his palm, and he jerked her again, dragging her backward down the slight slope toward the edge of the church lot. She kicked.

He kept moving. She fought every step. Her hands clawed at his forearm. Ayla did everything she could think of to make him let her go.

He never did.

He shoved her toward one of the other men. “Take her to the creek. Get rid of her.”

“No! Let me go!”

He slapped her. Just slapped her. Ayla cried out, as the younger man wrapped his arm around her waist from behind and lifted her off her feet. “Daddy, what should I do with her? We can’t sell girls no more. We’ll get caught.”

“Shut up, boy. Just drown her like a damned dog, if you have to. Won’t take much to do. She can’t exactly fight back. Do it.”

"Daddy, I can’t kill her?—"

"Shut up and move. Just get it done. I’ll deal with Hiller myself."

"I can't swim." His voice cracked. Like he was going to cry or something. He was almost as tall as Gunn or Emerson and he was about ready to cry. That stuck with her. She didn’t know why, but it did. Ayla just keptfighting.Even though it didn’t do any good. "You know I can't. What if I fall in? Or there's snakes?"

"You think I care about snakes?" The older man stepped forward, towering over them both. "Proverbs warns us about women with smooth tongues whose steps lead straight to hell. That sister of hers screwed everything else up for me last week. You think I'm gonna let this one stick around and tell the sheriff who was here today?”

“I didn’t think a girl would be here.”

The older man grabbed Ayla's chin with one hand, forcing her to look at him. His eyes—pure evil. She’d seen pure evil like that once before. She would never forget how that man had looked at her when she’d been a little girl.

"And then there's you. All broken. Just another Jezebel in waiting. Hiller’s probably already screwed you, hypocrite that he is." His eyes narrowed as he looked her up and down, his voice dropping to a growl. "Women like you disgust me.”

She jerked her face from his hand, a rush of anger cutting through her fear. She bit at him. He pushed his son toward the river behind the church. "You hold her under. You hear me? You push her face down in that water and don't stop until she stops moving. Just hold her under, the water will do the rest."

"I don't—Daddy, I don't think I can—I ain’t never killed a girl before."

"You can, and you will. It ain’t that hard. You think this is a choice? The Lord gave you a father to obey. You think I care whatyou feel? Go. Do what you’re told, then we’ll follow your mother and brother and sister to Idaho.”

“But I can’t drown her. I hate the water?—"

"Don’t leave witnesses.”

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