My sister turned in her seat once more since learning I was here and smiled brightly as if she was seeing me for the first time today.
I smiled back.
We had the same brown eyes from our father and red hair from our mother, although Rosalie’s tresses were paler and cropped at her shoulder. Our mother maintained that long hair was the mark of a wanton woman. I made sure when I left home to trim mine less often, and now my hair stretched toward the end of my spine.
Rosalie’s excited gaze shifted to the rock gods fidgeting in the wooden pew we shared as if they’d burst into flames any moment now.
I shared their anxiety.
I never thought I’d be here again.
After my mother made it clear last night that I wasn’t welcome in their home, I knew this would be my only chance to see Rosalie before leaving. We had a show in Seattle tomorrow night, and I didn’t want to force my boyfriends to cancel another performance just to stay where we weren’t wanted.
Amelia Fawn, catching her youngest daughter distracted, voiced her disapproval in a quiet tone, making Rosalie pout as she turned and faced the front. I swallowed the bitterness as my gaze shifted to the boy sitting next to her and his parents sitting on his other side while our parents flanked Rosalie’s right, keeping them together.
I would never forgive my parents for forcing a life on my sister that she didn’t want, and my parents would never forgive me for derailing the one she did.
“Go in peace,” Father Moore dismissed moments later, “glorifying the Lord by your life.”
I nudged Loren next to me, who’d fallen asleep, and he awoke with a loud snort that drew unwanted attention our way. I pushed air through my nose when I was recognized immediately. Now that Mass was over and they were done pretending to be God’s innocent children, the whispering and the stares began.
“What the hell is everyone staring at?” Loren griped.
It never took any of them long to notice much, which never seemed to work in my favor. I was still hoping to get out of this without having to come clean about my past. They knew I wasn’t innocent when they met me, but they had no idea just how much I had sinned.
“You’re not supposed to curse in a church, Lo,” Rich scolded.
Loren paid him no mind as he continued to look around. I stood up, smoothing down the brown, long-sleeved midi dress I carefully chose for the occasion, so he did too. Once the four of us were standing in the aisle, I waited near the narthex.
No way was I going near Father Moore or the chancel.
Standing here, I could almost feel the smear of anointing oil on my forehead while the pungent smell of olives never left me. Father Moore had used it to cure my “sickness” as I stood before distraught parents and the sons they’d brought with them for absolution.
My only regret had been not having the wisdom to give my body to a boy who deserved me, someone who would have stood by me as a friend or even just a hand to hold.
None of the nine who’d been there that night did.
As I waited for my parents and sister to reach us, I fought to push away the memories before my knees could collapse. I almost gave up and let the shame take hold when a large hand slipped into mine, tangling our fingers together.
I looked up and into the green gaze of Houston Morrow and knew he’d noticed the stares too.
Shrugging at the question in his eyes, I offered him a wry smile that wasn’t entirely a façade. I was used to being the outcast. I’d lived that way for two years until I was able to escape when I turned eighteen.
And I never would have looked back if it hadn’t been for my baby sister.
She’d been too young at the time to understand what was happening to me, but it didn’t change that she never abandoned me.
The last of Father Moore’s flock who weren’t intending to stay now that Mass was over and continue their prayers finally passed us.
I knew the moment Houston spotted my family because his hand tightened around mine ever so slightly.
Jericho was next to recognize my sister, and I could hear his soft swear even after just moments ago berating Loren for doing the same.
The bassist was last to notice them. His gaze skirted over my mother and father dismissively before landing on my sister as she approached with a very swollen belly and a diamond ring adorning her left hand.
She was only thirteen.Braxton’s sister looked barely old enough to know long division. How the hell could this kid be pregnant and married already? My gaze moved around the church, stuck playing duck, duck, goose, because I didn’t know where else to put it.