Authors: Virna Depaul
CHAPTER TWENTY
W
HEN
SHE
AND
L
IZ
returned to her house, Natalie immediately excused herself. She didn’t usually nap during the day, but at that moment it was all she wanted to do. To her surprise, as soon as she sank onto the bed, fine tremors started in her hands and worked their way down until her whole body was shaking. A chill invaded her bones, causing the shakes to get even worse. Frantically, she looked at her bedroom door, which she’d closed but hadn’t locked. Liz was outside, reviewing some case files at the kitchen table. Natalie tried to sit up, so she could lock the door, but her limbs wouldn’t move.
It was as if the events of the past few days or months or years had finally caught up with her, conquering her strength, determination and resolve. As if her attempt to relax and let down her defenses, even for a few minutes, had opened the floodgates to memories both new and old, and to memories of people and events meant to defeat her. Worse, it was memories of her mother that were assaulting her most.
Katrina Butcher had always been an emotionally distant parent, but after Natalie’s father died, just after she turned eight, her mother became abusive. At first, it was just verbal put-downs or intense anger at the slightest infraction. Then it became a slap here or there. And then the worst, beatings followed by locking Natalie, who’d always been extremely afraid of the dark, in an attic closet. Every single time, she’d try to be quiet, biting her lip until she tasted blood because she knew her mother would increase her punishment if she called out for her. But eventually she’d imagine something coming for her out of the dark, something even scarier than her mother, and she’d start screaming, not stopping until her voice simply gave out.
Natalie told herself her mother just couldn’t handle the grief of losing her husband. That she’d needed someone to direct her anger toward. That it wasn’t personal.
By the time she was twelve, she finally learned it
was
personal.
That year, her mother suddenly lost most of her vision. What Natalie hadn’t known was that the vision loss had been slowly worsening over the years and that her mother had always blamed Natalie for the onset of the retinal disease. Despite the doctors telling her otherwise, she’d convinced herself that the stress of pregnancy and childbirth had caused some kind of dormant injury that had then become active several years later, interfering with not just her daily living but ruining her dreams of being a world-renowned painter.
The ironic thing was, Natalie hadn’t even known her mother was an artist. As soon as her eye ailment had started, she’d packed all her art supplies away, in the same attic where that horrid closet was.
Natalie’s ignorance was shattered after one particularly bad beating. After shoving her into the closet, her mother had been the one to scream back at her, pounding on the door from the other side while telling Natalie everything she’d lost because of her. Her mother hated her. Wished she’d never been born. Wished she was dead.
Within months, her mother was completely blind. Even then, Natalie hadn’t abandoned her. She’d hoped to show her mother, by being there for her every day, by loving her despite all she’d done and said, that she was worthy of being loved in return. It had never happened.
Her mother had spiraled into depression and psychosis marked by more and more frequent suicide attempts. Finally, when Natalie was fifteen, her mother had been committed by the state for mental incompetency. She was declared legally insane a month later and had been institutionalized ever since.
Every year until that horrible day at the farmers’ market, Natalie had continued to visit her, but it was always the same. Her mother stared blankly into space throughout the entire visit, never once recognizing the daughter who had so desperately wanted to mean something to her.
The only people who knew about Natalie’s mother, and not even half of the ugly details, were Melissa and Duncan. Even though Duncan had never said so, Natalie was sure part of the reason he had broken things off with her was his fear she would surrender to the same insanity that her mother had.
Clearly, he hadn’t known her at all. Insanity might claim her at some point, but not because she surrendered to it. Before that could happen, she’d do what her mother had attempted but had never been able to successfully accomplish. She’d kill herself.
But that wasn’t necessary. Not yet.
Curling into a ball, Natalie swallowed hard and told herself that she couldn’t fall apart. Not with Liz still in the house, anyway. Not when falling apart might lead to more falling apart until eventually there was nothing left of her.
* * *
W
HEN
R
EVEREND
C
ARTER
M
ORRISON
pulled into the church parking lot, he bypassed the front spaces and drove to the back of the building toward the lot that provided easy access to the staff offices. It was half past seven and the grounds deserted, although the cleaners would be arriving at eight. He’d just miss them. It wouldn’t take but a minute to get the baby blanket Shannon had left earlier in the day, the one so soft it reminded him of cotton candy. It had been a gift from her father, and he wanted to make sure they had it with them when they visited him tomorrow. It was to be their final meeting before the Grand Reverend officially announced Carter as his successor to the empire he’d built. The empire that he and Shannon would tend and grow into something even grander until it was time to pass it on to their son.
Their son.
He still couldn’t believe he had a son. After all the years of fertility treatments and false hopes and crushing disappointments, it was something he and Shannon never thought would happen. But God had finally answered their prayers, giving them not just the child they wanted, but the key to building his life’s work.
The knowledge had made her insatiable. After months of turning him away from her bed,
she’d
turned to him. Had even let him dominate her.
At first, when she’d stood behind him and begun to caress him, he’d been disgusted. But then he couldn’t help it; his dick had responded to her teasing caresses. And then she’d asked him to fuck her, and he’d liked hearing that word come out of his proper little wife’s mouth. He’d done things to her she’d never let him do before. And he’d felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Her respect and approval.
Not that he wanted either any longer, but the fact that she felt both for him was liberating. Intoxicating. It would make living with her a little while longer more bearable. But although he still needed her, although he’d given her the fucking she’d asked for and would do so again, he’d always feel disgust for her now.
He’d been too submissive with her, he’d finally realized. She was a strong woman and needed his strength in return. He’d damn well give it to her. He’d punish her for all the years that she’d tormented him, if only in his own mind.
To his surprise, there was another car already parked next to the church, a beat-up old Mazda with its headlights dim but illuminated. Flickering as if the car’s battery was about to die. He recognized the vehicle immediately. It belonged to Alex Hanes, a member of the church, one who’d joined as part of their prison release program. He hesitated, then saw a shadow move in the car.
Idiot.
He was in the driver’s seat, obviously waiting. Why?
If it had been up to him, ex-convicts wouldn’t be allowed to join the congregation. It wasn’t up to him, though. Not yet.
Grand Reverend Lester Phillips, Shannon’s father, had established the prison outreach program early on. He believed that converting others to faith was spurred greatly by charity, not just spreading money on worthy causes, but actually taking in the downtrodden, the criminals, outcasts and troubled youth, and showing the world the miracles that could be performed. Carter had been skeptical at first, but in the end, as in most things, his father-in-law had been right. Ironically, it was through such service that he’d been able to meet Lindsay Monroe, although of course he hadn’t known her real name at the time.
She’d been Lauren to him. Pretty Lauren.
Of all the girls he’d been with since marrying, she was the one he’d actually fantasized about leaving Shannon for. Of course, that would never have happened. He wasn’t a rocket scientist, but even if the girl hadn’t been so young, he’d always known how far Shannon and her family connections could take him. Plus, if he hadn’t left her through those turbulent years of infertility and depression, he was unlikely to ever do so. She might not be the love of his life, in bed or out, but she was loyal to him and the church, and his career had exceeded all expectations. Even better, the job had come with all the perks that he’d previously fantasized about.
Money. Fame. The adoration of his congregation. They all looked to him as if he was a God himself, and
that
, more than anything, was intoxicating. In his own way, he’d become as addicted to it as Alex Hanes had been to heroin. He didn’t ever want to do without, to go through the pain of withdrawals, and he wasn’t going to.
Still, he missed Lindsay sometimes, even though he tried not to think of her. When he thought of her, he rarely remembered the way she’d smiled at him or how she’d opened her sweet body to the invasion of his. Instead, he remembered that horrible day. The day Shannon had swept into her father’s cabin in Redding like the angel of death… .
When Lindsay had first told him she was pregnant, his initial response had been joy. Finally, he’d have a child, a child that Shannon couldn’t give him, just as he’d always wanted. Almost immediately, however, he’d realized the implications of his indiscretion. How everything he and Shannon had achieved would crumple like a house of cards when her father, the public,
everyone
learned he’d impregnated a sixteen-year-old girl. He’d broken down and told Shannon. Gone crying to her like the weakling she often accused him of being. But while her initial reaction had been disdainful, that disdain had quickly shifted to approval. Praise.
It was perfect, she’d told him. Their chance to be parents and give her father the heir he required before he’d announce Carter as his successor. All it would take was Carter using his considerable charm to convince Lindsay that he loved her, that he wanted the best of everything for her, and that allowing him to adopt the child and raise it in the church would give her the opportunity to go to college and see the world. Of course they would continue to see each other, love each other, behind closed doors, and she could visit the child anytime.
At least, that’s what he told her.
To Shannon’s great joy, Lindsay had agreed. Things had flowed smoothly from there. They’d promised Clemmons a leadership position in the church, something he’d been wanting for years, if he would arrange for someone to keep Lindsay company in a remote fishing cabin in Redding. She wouldn’t be a prisoner, but she’d discreetly wait out the term of her pregnancy, and then Clemmons would deliver the baby to Carter when it was born. Pious man that he was, Clemmons had struggled with indecision. He clearly didn’t respect Carter or Shannon, but he’d ultimately concluded that keeping the church free from scandal was in everyone’s best interest.
He’d probably relished the idea of getting Carter and Shannon out of the picture, so he could run things right.
But Clemmons wasn’t as perfect and moral as he thought. He’d asked his brother, an ex-felon just learning the teachings of the church, to watch over Lindsay, and Alex, exceedingly grateful and loyal to the “family” that had welcomed him with open arms, agreed.
Months had gone by without incident. In truth, Carter had almost forgotten about Lindsay. She’d been such a good girl, doing exactly what they’d planned. But then she’d started to have doubts. She’d wanted to see him. She’d loved him so much that she couldn’t imagine
not
being with him or, worst of all, giving their baby over to another woman’s care. Alex had called, giving them warning, and Clemmons and Carter had driven to Plainville so Carter could calm Lindsay down.
He’d almost succeeded. But then that bum at the farmers’ market had pointed at them. Called him a hypocrite. Commanded Lindsay not to give him what he wanted. Staring into the man’s eyes, Carter had suffered a moment of indecision, as if God was indeed speaking through the weathered-looking old fool. He’d been shaken on the ride back to the cabin, and once there, Lindsay had pleaded with him to let her keep their baby. He’d been wrung out, close to giving in, and that’s probably what Shannon had sensed. Or rather, anticipated. She’d shown up, and it had all been over.
What had been smooth sailing for months had suddenly transformed into a disastrous tempest, one ending with Lindsay’s blood staining the floor and all their hands.
It was nausea that pulled Carter out of his memories. He struggled for a moment, fighting the urge to vomit. He could imagine what Shannon would say about it. How she’d curse and belittle him for his weak nature.
Eventually, however, he pulled himself together. He always pulled himself together, no thanks to her. And someday, he wouldn’t need her. But not yet.
Once Grand Reverend Lester Phillips retired, Carter’s congregations and reach would multiply a hundredfold. So many sinners in need of saving. So many young girls among them. For as long as it suited him, he could fuck Shannon, dominate her in bed and have his little girls, too.
He winced as his dick shivered. He had to control himself. Stay off the radar for just a while longer. He couldn’t ruin everything he’d worked for by giving in to his temptations again. Not yet. Not when he was so close to getting what he wanted.
Young, lithe bodies and dewy innocence were arousing, but power was the ultimate aphrodisiac.
Despite the violent crimes he’d committed in his youth, Alex Hanes hadn’t figured that out yet. Either that, or prison had suppressed his memory. He truly got off on the idea of being a religious warrior, one who rejected the laws of man in order to protect the gateways to heaven.