Page 72 of The Preachers' Promise
“I’m coming home,” I tell him. “I need to talk with you and Mom. It’s urgent.”
“Damn right, it is. Are those bastards with you?”
I swallow hard. “Yes, but Daddy, it’s not what you think. They helped me. Just let us explain when we see you.”
“Fine.” The word is terse, snapped off at the end, but it’s a start. He’s not threatening to kill them, which is a good sign. “When will you be here?”
I glance at Cain, who is listening in. He mouthstonight, to me.
“This evening,” I say. “If that’s okay?”
He sucks in a ragged breath. “Of course it’s okay, Ophelia. We need you home. Where you belong. Your mother has damn well lost her mind.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “We can explain.”
“I’ll see you this evening. Tell those men to drive carefully. And, Ophelia?”
“Yes?”
“A call to let us know you were safe and sound would have been the adult thing to do. When you keep behaving this way, and putting us through hell, you must understand why we are hard on you.”
“Yes, Dad.”
I end the call and pass Cain the phone.
Malachi ducks his head to hold my gaze. “How do you think it went?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “As expected.”
Roman grimaces. “I guess we can’t ask for more than that. When do we leave?”
“He’s expecting us this evening,” I say. “I might go rest for a bit before we set off. We have a long drive.”
“You okay, Angel?” Cain frowns at me.
I force a smile. “Yeah, it’s just… a lot.”
I leave the room, needing a few moments to process everything. Speaking to my parents has hit me harder than I’d anticipated. The pain and worry in my mother’s voice had been clear. I hate that I hurt her, even if it wasn’t my fault. My dad had been right when he’d said I could have let them know I wassafe. But I was scared to after what they did to me when they sent me to that awful place. I’m so confused about how I feel when it comes to them.
I understand that I scared them by talking about hearing the Prophet’s voice, but he didn’t need to do that.
I am so happy I have the love of my men to protect me, especially as I prepare to face my father, but how the hell do I try to reason with the man who sent me away to that place? I understand he thought he was doing the right thing, but he can’t have checked out the facility too well. Did he just trust in the doctor he called out to see me to do the right thing?
He's used the man for years to work with his guards and protectors when they get injured, but you’d think he’d give a little more consideration as to who he put in charge of his only daughter’s care.
Will he listen to reason? And if he does, and we head back to Verona Falls, what then? My men love me, but that love has given them rose-colored glasses when it comes to how they view me. I’m not strong enough to overcome the Prophet by myself, and I’m scared once they realize that, they’ll slowly lose their feelings for me. No one wants someone so weak that they can’t even fight a voice in their own head.
I wander listlessly around the bedroom we’ve been using, and I’m tempted to take some of the clothes with me when we leave, but that would be stealing. Still, I like the slip dress I’m wearing, so I might keep that. Maybe I should buy some more at some point.
With what, though? I don’t have much money, and that’s something else I should talk to my father about. He pays my fees at Verona Falls, or he did, and gives me a small allowance for food and other things, but it’s not enough to let me buy nice clothes or even do things like own a car if I wanted to. Not that I can drive. I obviously never learned while in the cult and, sinceI’ve been back home, I was focused on recovery before anything else.
I want independence, and I know how hypocritical it is to ask my father to give me more money so I can be more independent, but my only other option is getting a job, and I doubt he’d be happy for me to do that.
“Hey, are you okay?” Roman comes into the room and walks to the bed where he flops down, one arm above his head. He pats the covers next to him, and I join him, lying on my back, staring at the ceiling.
“I don’t want to let you all down. What if I can’t control the voice?” It’s easier to put my fears into words when he’s not looking at me.
“Ophelia, you could never let me down. And I know I speak for Cain and Mal on this, too.” He sighs and his pinky finger entwines with mine, making me smile. “We just want you to feel in control, but we shouldn’t have pushed.”
