Page 73 of Forgive Me Father
My father’s expression darkens, and I can see the tension in his jaw as he struggles to maintain his composure. "You need to calmdown," He says, his voice dangerously soft. "We can talk about this outside."
He grabs my arm, his grip firm but not enough to draw attention. With a fake smile plastered on his face, he guides me toward the exit, his fingers digging into my skin just enough to make his point.
Once we’re outside, away from the prying eyes of the congregation, he pulls me into a secluded corner of the parking lot. His face is a mask of barely contained rage.
"Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?" He snarls, his voice low and threatening. "You’ve made a fool of yourself and me.”
I glare at him, refusing to back down, even though my heart is pounding in my chest. "I don’t care what happens to me. But if you hurt Aiden again, I’ll make sure you regret it."
That’s when I see it—a flash of something cold and dangerous in his eyes. Before I can react, his hand lashes out, slapping me hard across the face. The force of the blow sends me stumbling, pain radiating through my cheek as I try to keep my balance.
"You will learn your place, Eden," He hisses, his voice seething with fury as he grabs my arm, yanking me back to him.
His grip tightens, and I feel the sharp edge of his car keys biting into my skin as he drags them across my wrist, leaving a stinging cut in their wake. I bite back a cry, tears stinging my eyes, but I refuse to let him see me break.
When he finally lets go, I stumble back, cradling my aching cheek and bleeding wrist. The world around me feels blurry and surreal as if I’m watching it all happen from a distance.
"You’re going to sit in the car the rest of Mass," He orders, his voice cold and devoid of any emotion. "And when we get home, you’re coming straight to my room."
I don’t respond. I can’t. All I can think about is Aiden and how I’ve failed to protect him. But as I turn to walk back toward the church, I catch a glimpse of Roman standing by the entrance, his eyes locked on mine. There’s a look of fear in his expression, a silent plea that tells me he knows exactly what’s happening but feels powerless to stop it.
After Mass ends, my father drags me to the car, his grip as tight as ever. "When we get home, up to my room," He whispers, and the dread in my stomach deepens.
But one thing is clear.
My father’s focus was no longer on Aiden.
Aiden is safe.
And me?
Well, perhaps I was better off at college, far away from this hell.
Joshua 1:9: "This is My command: be strong and courageous. Never be afraid or discouraged because I am your God, the Eternal One, and I will remain with you wherever you go."
Chapter 20
Roman
Ihave it all planned out.
David Faulkner will die a slow, torturous death.
One so meticulously cruel that Ted Bundy himself would take notes.
It’s been four days since David dragged her out of that church, leaving bruises on her skin that I can’t get out of my mind. And what did I do? I just stood there, paralyzed by the fear of what everyone would see if I intervened—if they saw how much I care for her, how deep this runs. Eden is my greatest weakness, my one true vulnerability. If the congregation ever found out, I’d lose everything—my position, my calling, the life I’ve built. I’d be stripped of the collar, and everything I’ve worked for would crumble. But the worst part? I let him hurt her, and I did nothing.
These past four days, she’s avoided the church entirely. I know because I’ve been watching, keeping tabs on her from a distance.She’s been lying to her father, telling him she’s fulfilling her service hours, and I’ve been lying right along with her whenever he asks how her lessons are going. The thought of what would happen if he found out the truth makes my blood run cold.
And then there’s Luca—hovering around her in the parking lot after her shifts, wrapping her in his arms, pressing ice against the bruise around her eye. Seeing him comfort her, knowing that bruise shouldn’t even exist, fills me with a burning jealousy and regret. That should be me holding her, protecting her. But all I can do is watch from a distance, haunted by my own cowardice.
That should be me.
It’s torture, this self-imposed exile from the one person I want to protect more than anything. Each day, I find myself drawn back to her, making excuses to pass by her workplace, to linger in the shadows where I can see. I watch her laugh with Aiden, the light in her eyes dimmed but still fighting to shine through the pain. And every time I see Luca’s arm around her, that idiot’s easy smile as he tries to comfort her, I feel a rage I can barely contain.
But what right do I have to feel anything? I’m the one who stood by as her father hurt her, who failed to protect her when she needed me most. I’m the one who’s too terrified to show the world how much I care, to admit that she means more to me than anything else in this hollow existence I’ve carved out for myself.
Eden seeing that binder was the last thing I needed. She wasn’t supposed to know, wasn’t supposed to see the dark underbelly of this town. But now that she does, I can’t stop thinking about it.
