Preacher Man

I smile down into the knowing eyes of my wife, my heart beating faster at the proof that our minds think alike. As soon as we arrived at this picnic, it was obvious things could never go back to the way they’d been. I’ve married a girl fresh from her eighteenth birthday, one day after I carried her to my office during a church service. Speculation about what has ensued over the last twenty-four hours is probably rampant. I’m meant to be the holiest among them. Above reproach. Yet I took no time to court her and now I’ve got my hands and mouth all over her.

Ask me if I care what they think. I care about nothing besides my little girl.

“Let’s leave tonight,” Mila says, excitement dancing in her eyes. “I want to go on an adventure with you.”

I lean down and kiss her soft mouth. “You are my adventure.”

I’m not sure how to explain the unease that prickles the hair on the back of my neck. Only that one moment I couldn’t be more eager to greet the future with my bride—and the next, my stomach is weighed down with foreboding. My muscles harden, eyes ticking up to scan the forest. I hear a branch snap and my blood begins to pump wildly.

Without waiting another second, I drag Mila behind me, blocking her from the threat I sense in the woods. It’s coming. My past in Boston has come for me. I’m not sure how I’m suddenly so positive, except I’ve had this tug in my gut for a while now. I should have trusted my instincts yesterday at the courthouse and left with Mila immediately. Having danger this close to her is unacceptable. And terrifying. The thought of someone taking her away from me is terrifying.

“I need to get you out of here—” A flash of metal flares in the forest a split second before a bullet rips through the air. “No.”

I spin on a heel, using my body as a shield as I hustle Mila across the lawn to the parking area, dodging the members of the congregation who are now scrambling to hide and running in every direction. As fast as I can, I get her locked into my car. “Get down, Mila and stay down. Do you hear me?”

“Yes,” she whimpers, going down on her belly in the foot area of the backseat. “Come with me, Joseph. Don’t go back there.”

I lean down and kiss her mouth. “I love you, baby girl. I’ll be back. No one is going to shoot at my fucking wife and live to see another day.”

“Joseph.”

Unable to bear the fear in her tone, I close the door and lock it. Using the car as a shield for a moment, I scan the tree line looking for any sign of movement. Or a color that doesn’t belong among the green foliage—and I spot it. It’s very slight, but I see the navy blue peeking out from behind a tree, about fifty yards into the woods. I’m not so out of practice to believe they’d only send one man to kill me, though.

I welcome the challenge.

Murder throbbing in my temples, I crisscross my reach, my hands disappearing into my black preacher jacket, whipping both Glocks out of my shoulder holsters, pointing them at the threat.

“Get down,” I roar at the bumbling idiots trying to find cover around me. They do as I command, thankfully, ensuring I don’t blow any of their heads off as I fire into the woods. One shot, duck behind an SUV. Another shot. Give myself enough cover to advance ten yards. It’s a process and gunfire spits in my direction the whole way, but I finally make it to the tree line. Leaning back against a tree trunk, I close my eyes, hold my breath and listen for the tiniest scrap of sound.

Minutes pass, but I finally hear a leaf crumble and make my move. I come around back of the tree and fire, taking down the navy blue target, immediately finding a new place to take cover as life gurgles out of the man on the forest floor. There’s another one, though, there’s always another one. I think of my sweet Mila and make a mental promise that I’ll never subject her to violence again when this day is over. I’ll take her to an ocean on the other side of the world to ensure it.

I’m getting hard thinking of how she rode me in the bathtub when I hear an intake of breath, coming from nearby. Muscle memory sends me into action and I step right, taking down the second target with a bullet in the neck. He jerks and slaps a hand over the hole I created, but it’s too late. Too much blood has been lost and within seconds he drops, not far from the first man.