Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 161899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 809(@200wpm)___ 648(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 809(@200wpm)___ 648(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Ryn gave me an Evie’s so dramatic eye roll in the rearview mirror.
I agreed with her.
This wasn’t the dangerous part of the master plan (the hacking was).
“Okay, that’s a go for me. I’m going in!” Hattie announced.
She then threw open her door and walked in her graceful but still girlie Hattie walk up the sidewalk, hair swinging and skirt swaying on the cute, long-sleeved, short dress she wore with knee-high boots.
Hattie being a classically trained dancer, she sometimes did her routines en pointe at the club. She’d trained so much, every movement she made was poised and elegant.
It was beautiful.
And super cool.
It was also why we picked her for this assignment.
Lottie looked like, well…a stripper. Not only because she was, it was also her aesthetic. And she soooooo rocked it. But the stripper look didn’t really go hand in hand with what was about to happen.
Ryn was stunning. But she was edgy. World-wise. And she didn’t hide either. No way she could do what needed to get done without someone wondering why she was doing it.
Hattie was curvy and had long, curly hair, big eyes and she was also a dazzler, but in a more innocent and cute way.
She was perfect (though, that short dress might cause some waves, but part of her remit wasn’t being incognito, she was heading in supposedly to learn about the church, not like she knew all about it, if she did, she couldn’t ask questions).
“I don’t have a good feeling about this,” Evie’s voice said over my phone as we all watched Hattie walk down the sidewalk toward my family’s church.
I’d never been there. It was a new-ish build. But I’d noted the minute we’d reached our destination that Reverend Clyde had been busy after I’d escaped his flock.
I already knew this because my parents were very excited when they broke ground, and then even more so when they sanctified their new place of worship.
According to Dad, it did not have all the “obnoxious trappings” of those TV evangelists’ churches. It was, as he said, “simply fit for purpose.”
I didn’t know what that meant, and I didn’t ask because I also didn’t care, seeing as I wasn’t a fan of their “purpose.”
And at the time, I didn’t know about the multiple-wives thing.
I just knew you weren’t allowed to cuss (not unusual), take the Lord’s name in vain (that was a commandment, so even though I did it, the fact they seriously frowned on it was no big thing), and you weren’t allowed to have sex before marriage (um…no one gets to tell me what to do with my body).
You also had to worship a lot.
It was seriously frowned on to miss prayer practice and missing a Sunday sermon was treated like a high crime.
But more, there were a ton of events, fellowships, revivals, baptisms, plus courses (these, though, were only for the men, which I always thought was shady).
Hell, if someone claimed they’d sneezed a righteous sneeze, Reverend Clyde would gather us all to hear his words on the subject, and you’d feel the censure if you didn’t show up.
However, although none of that was fun, the big thing that was my issue was that the man was the “lion of the home” (Reverend Clyde’s words).
In other words, what the head of the family said—the male head, that was—went.
The end.
Like seriously, the end.
Once we got involved in the church and settled in, Mom never made a peep against Dad’s wishes.
It was gross.
And disturbing.
And women could not dress as they saw fit. They covered up. They did not wear pants. Nothing tight. As little skin showing as possible.
No makeup either.
No high heels.
No dyeing of hair. Also no short (“boyish”) hair.
And so many more rules for women, it was not funny.
Now I was seeing that the “obnoxious trappings” Dad had talked about when it came to their new church did not include size.
In other words, the building was big. Far bigger than needed for a simple sanctuary, an admin office or two and perhaps some rooms for fellowship and Sunday school.
Which made one question why they’d need that much space.
The parking lot was large as well. And it currently had a number of cars in it, trucks, a couple of vans, and three seriously kitted-out RVs.
But I’d positioned my car down the street so we had a view of the front door, and thus could have eyes on Hattie until she went in.
“She’s just going to gather information. Leaflets. Brochures. Talk to someone about services. Feign interest in joining. Whatever,” Ryn reminded Evie. “It’s not like she’s going to—”
Ryn cut herself off to gasp.
I gasped with her.
And Lottie exclaimed, “Holy shit!”
We did this because three things happened at once.
The first, in front of the church, Axl appeared out of nowhere, hooked Hattie, who was making her way up the walk, by the waist, and dragged her around one of the RVs, out of sight of the church.