Page 137 of Forgive Me Father
“What happens after the night is over?” I ask in a sluggish tone as the women drag me past the double doors into the main cathedral, steering me toward the confession room.
“They’ll put you on that altar and sell you off. What happens after that is up to God’s goodwill,” One of them whispers.
“Is that what happened to you?” I ask with a bitter grin. “Did you let yourself be sold and used by those men?” The women fall silent.
“That was the case for your mother,” One of them snaps after a moment.
My father.
He bid on my mother.
“What—”
“You didn’t know?” One of them scoffs, her tone dripping with superiority. “God, she really shielded you and Aiden from the truth. Maybe your father will find you a new stepmother tonight,” She snickers.
Nausea churns in my stomach.
All those young wives circulating through the church.
I always thought it was a product of religious tradition.
Like how an army base is filled with young military wives seeking escape from their families.
I never imagined—
“Time to line up and wait with the others,” One of the women snaps, shoving me into a crowded room filled with drugged-up children dressed to impress. “You’re first on the lineup, Eden, so maybe crack a smile.”
“Wait—”
The door slams shut behind me, and I bang my fists against the wood, jiggling the lock.
Fuck.
I sink to the ground, surrounded by dozens of pained expressions.
“Why are you here?” One of the little girls asks, her eyes filled with genuine sorrow.
“My dad is a bad man,” I whisper. “And he hates me for loving a good one.”
“Is the good man going to be here tonight?” The girl asks, a chuckle of defeat escaping my throat.
“If he is,” I whisper, “then God has answered my prayers for the first time.”
Chapter 39
Roman
“Like I said, I will be with you tonight in case anything goes south,” Echo reiterates, adjusting his tie for what seems like the millionth time.
Underneath his suit, a wire nestles against his chest, transmitting every whispered conversation to his team in the van parked near the church.
He tucks a Glock at his waist, the suit completing his formidable appearance.
“And how do you plan on getting in?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “They’re not expecting you.”
“I’ve played the pedo ring game before, Roman. This is not my first rodeo. Getting in is the easy part. Not killing every fucker inside is the hardest,” He snaps, his gaze sharp. “Getting those kids out will always be the highlight of my job every single time,” He says, a smile breaking through his stern demeanor.
I flatten my collar, allowing a smirk to creep onto my face.
