Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
My wordless plea for forgiveness lasts less than thirty seconds. A nanosecond after my father notices me standing partway down the cracked concrete path, he’s yanked away from Lachlan and thrown against the outside wall of the church by a furious man with death in his sights.
“Caleb, no!” I scream when his fist careens toward my father’s face after battering his ribs enough times for my father to bend in two.
“Go to Mommy, Lachie, quick,” I beg when he races my way, scared by the furious vibe beaming out of Caleb.
He is holding my father by his throat so firmly, his feet are nowhere near the ground, and he looks seconds from beating him to death with his bare hands.
Fear that I may not be able to get through to him this time is heard in my voice when I murmur, “Caleb…” His eyes don’t shift to mine. They remain locked on my father, who is returning his stare, although with nowhere near as much violence in his eyes. “It’s okay. Whatever you think happened, didn’t. It isn’t what you think.”
When my reply doubles the firmness of Caleb’s grip on my father’s throat, my dad signals for me to stand down before trying a different method. “It’s okay, son. It is okay.” As his eyes bounce between Caleb’s almost black gaze, he murmurs, “You have every right to be mad. What happened shouldn’t have happened. You should have been protected as you are protecting Lachlan now. It is okay. There are no enemies here.”
My father has a way with words, but even I am shocked when he appears to be getting through to Caleb. His grip on his throat weakens enough that his next lot of words aren’t forced through the tightness, and his eyes are nowhere near as bulging. “It’s okay.”
Before another affirmation that he isn’t in trouble can be spoken, Caleb is tackled from the side by the last person I expect. “A waterpipe burst in the toilet, you fuckin’ weirdo.”
Warren is quick to take advantage of Caleb’s stunned state, but it only takes his fist smacking into his cheek once for Caleb to realize what is happening.
Then it turns violent.
Caleb’s roars are painful, his fists pounding, but the words he shouts while taking his anger out on Warren are the most horrific of them all.
He wasn’t just abused as a child. He was molested by his grandfather in the very place he should have felt protected the most.
At his family’s church.
Oh, God. This is worse than I thought.
“Leave him alone,” I scream when members of the church pull Caleb off Warren without realizing Warren instigated their tussle.
They hold Caleb back by his arms, leaving Warren free to sucker punch him in the face. Warren’s hit splits his lip and has his head ricocheting to the side.
“Get off him! Don’t touch him! Leave him alone,” I demand while pushing back the people making Caleb’s psychosis worse. They’re crowding around him while he stands across from a man wearing a robe that most likely gives him hives.
It will make his rage worse. I may not even be able to get him out of it this time around.
Once I have them far enough away to draw Caleb’s focus to me, I curl my shaky hands around his twitching jaw, then wordlessly demand his eyes to mine. “It’s okay, Caleb. It’s okay.”
It takes him staring into my eyes for almost a minute before sparks of the Caleb I know and love emerge from the blackness. When he notices the salty blobs careening down my cheeks, he stumbles back as if he is responsible for them before he darts his eyes across the people surrounding us.
I can tell the exact moment his panicked eyes land on my father. Not only does his jaw tick, but the horrors of his past smack back into him hard and fast. “You can’t trust him, Jess.”
I shake my head, denying his claims, but he doesn’t see me.
He doesn’t even see my father.
The only man he sees is his grandfather.
“He’s a liar and a cheat. He makes people think they’re the chosen one. They are all the same.” As his hands make his hair stand on end, he repeats, “They are all the same. You can’t stay with him. You can let him be a part of your life. He will break you.”
“He’s my dad, Caleb,” I respond, too shocked to comprehend if he’s talking to me or the ghosts of his past. “My family. I can’t leave him.”
The connection that’s been tethering us together for years snaps when Caleb locks his eyes with mine. He wasn’t talking to his grandfather. His words were for me.
“I can’t do this, Jessie.” He doesn’t need to stare at my father for me to know his decision has nothing to do with me and everything to do with my father’s profession. “I can’t do us.”