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PROLOGUE
PREACHER
"Bro, are you sure you're going to be okay?" Garret asks as we walk quickly toward the house.
I grit my teeth and nod. There’s no way I’d say otherwise. "Yeah, I'll be fine," I lie.
He gives me a look that tells me he doesn't believe me. Garret has been my best friend since we were seven. He knows how fucked up my family is. He knows that when I go home tonight, it's not going to be pretty. In fact, I have no doubt that tonight is going to be one of the worst nights of my life.
Lately, my father has been getting worse. He hates when anyone talks back to him and he despises it when I'm late. Which I am. I'm seventeen minutes late at the moment and we're almost home. I couldn't help it. My truck's battery died about two miles away from home, and I knew if I didn't leave it where it was, I'd be even later than I am now.
"I'll have Dad tow your truck once I'm home," Garret says as he runs a hand through his shaggy hair. "Kane, your father's going to hit the roof. We both know what he's like when you miss your curfew."
Oh boy, do we both know what he gets like. Broken bones, busted lips, and bloody noses are among his favorite injuries to cause when he really gets going.
"I'll be fine. I appreciate your father getting my truck, man. Tell him I'll pay him whatever it is I owe when I'm ungrounded." I sigh.
"Two weeks, bro. You've got two weeks and then we can get the hell out of this fucked up town."
I nod. I'm counting down the days. I can't fucking wait. It's been a long time coming. The sooner I get out of this hick of a fucked up town, the better. "Do your parents know that we're going?"
Garret grins. "Yep. They're coming with us," he says. "They've wanted to be gone for years, but they've been waiting until we hit eighteen. You know that everyone in town knows what goes on in your house, right?"
"Yeah," I say, slightly defeated. It's fucked up that every grown-ass adult knows that the pastor beats the fuck out of his kids and not one of them do anything to stop him.
We reach my house, and the porch light is on. I take a steadying breath and turn to Garret.
"See you in two weeks," I tell him with a slight chuckle. I'm going to be grounded for the rest of the summer, but the moment I turn eighteen, I'm gone, and there's no stopping me. Not anymore.
He gives me a grin. "See you in two weeks, Kane."
I shove my hands into my pockets and move toward the steps. Before I reach the top step, the front door opens, revealing my father standing in the doorway. His green eyes are dark and filled with anger, his lips twisted, and his weathered face contorted with so much rage, I know the beating I'm about to get is going to be one of the worst I've ever had.
He reaches for me, his thick fingers curling around my shoulder, and drags me toward him.
"The fuck are you playing at?" he spits as he pushes me into the house, slamming the front door closed behind us. "You just have to push your luck all the damn time, don't you? Hmm? I told you your curfew was six-thirty, and what time is it now? Almost seven." He pulls his arm back and brings it forward, snapping his meaty fist into my face. "You are such a disappointment," he shouts.
He lands blow after blow to my face and abdomen. He's a heavy man. He's not lean or overly muscular, but he's got a lot of weight behind his punches. Over the past two years, I've bulked up a lot. I've gained fifty pounds of muscle, so I'm able to cope with his blows a lot more. But sometimes he manages to land a hit that drops me to my knees. He's a tall fucker who loves to bully people he deems to be beneath him.
"Where were you?" Mom asks, her eyes wide as she watches her fucked up husband beat me. Yet again.
"My truck broke down. I had to walk two miles," I say, coughing through the pain. "Garret was with me. He's going to get his dad to tow my truck for me."
Mom's expression shifts from wide-eyed and sad, to angry, her eyes narrowing.
"Seriously?" she says with a shake of her head. "Why do you always lie, Kane? Why can't you just tell the truth for once in your life?"
She's just as bad as Dad. She always eggs him on, making stupid comments to get me into trouble. She's the perfect pastor's wife, all about faith and appearances. Yet everyone knows how fucked up both of them are.
"You know what the Lord said about lying, son," Dad says thickly, his voice filled with rage. "The LORD detests lying lips, but he delights in people who are trustworthy," he snarls. "Proverbs chapter twelve: verse twenty-two."
He throws yet another punch, and I'm unable to block it or dodge it. This one connects with my nose, which cracks beneath the force. The impact reverberates around my skull, creating a hideous sound.
Blood spurts from my nose and fills my mouth, the metallic taste has always been something that I hate. I spit the blood from my lips and glare at my father. I hate this man.
"Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord," I say in return. "Ephesians chapter six verse four."
"Are you talking back to me?" he snarls. "You dare to challenge my words?"
