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Mentally. Emotionally. She was worried.
Beck sighed. “I don’t know. I’d suggest a counselor if I thought it would do any good.”
“He thinks he’s fine.”
“Yep, just like he’s convinced himself he’s protecting us by withholding the truth about his wife and son. But it’s himself he’s protecting.”
Heavenly nodded. “It’s the same with his mother and this wedding stuff. Somewhere in his head, he genuinely believes he’s shielding his mother from the truth about our relationship so he doesn’t spoil her wedding day. But I’ve been thinking… By keeping the three of us a secret, he’s really protecting himself from her disapproval.”
“You’re right.” Beck hadn’t thought about it quite like that, but yeah.
“What should we do?”
“Point out that he’s being an ass?”
She sent him a sassy shake of her head. “I was thinking that gentle suggestions, support, and patience stand a better chance.”
Probably, but it sounded painful as fuck. “Let me think about it, okay? In the meantime, let’s see what’s happened in Messiah City.”
So I can figure out just how messed up Zach is going to be.
As Beck lifted the TV remote again, the garage door opened, then shut again. The electronic beeping of the house alarm being disarmed and reset told him all he needed to know.
Heavenly rose. “Seth?”
He appeared in the doorway, wearing last night’s clothes and a scowl. “What are you two doing up?”
“You’re back. I was worried—”
“About Zach,” Beck cut in. Now wasn’t the time to air Heavenly’s concerns. Seth would only give them some BS excuse, and Beck didn’t want to have to resist the urge to pound sense into him. “So we’re going to see how the raid on Messiah City went. Want to join us? We’ll make you some coffee.”
Seth hesitated, looking between the two of them and the darkened TV. Then he sighed with exhaustion. “Yeah. It was a long night. I could use some java.”
As Seth approached, he paused beside Heavenly, whose worried expression practically begged for reassurance. The big lug at least did one thing right and kissed her.
Afterward, she smiled and headed to the kitchen to brew him a mug.
Beck leveled him a pissed-off glare. Yeah, he might have smoothed things over with Heavenly, but this conversation was hardly over.
Seth swore under his breath and looked like he grappled for something to say when she returned and handed him his cup of joe. They all sat.
This time, Beck flipped on the TV. A grim-faced reporter filled the screen, breaking the news about the raid on Messiah City to the world. When footage of terrified women and crying children scurrying in the streets rolled across the big flat-screen, Beck leaned in, elbows on his knees, fingers clasped, his stare glued. The camera panned over the cult members. Some looked scared, some confused, and a few—probably the elders’ sons—looked furious.
The camera focused on a reporter with a huge microphone, who summarized the situation, then panned back to reveal a cluster of Chosen being escorted into FBI vans. One woman, wearing the traditional long dress and braids, guided others away from the press. Beside her, a girl who was maybe all of thirteen had a pregnant belly that looked far too swollen for her tiny frame. It made Beck sick.
When he zeroed in on the woman’s face, he froze. She looked hauntingly familiar. His gut twisted. He grabbed the remote and smashed the pause button.
That’s what Blessing would have looked like if—
“What is it? Do you know her?” Heavenly asked softly.
“That’s Blessing’s little sister, Harmony. I’m betting the pregnant girl beside her is her daughter, Amity. And the asshole who planted a baby in her belly was not only nearly three times her age but her own father.”
“Fucking pervert,” Seth muttered in disgust.
“Oh, that poor girl,” Heavenly whispered.
The familiar guilt for failing to protect Blessing chewed Beck up. Would she have lived to adulthood and been at least somewhat happy if he hadn’t impulsively asked for her hand? He’d never fucking know, but he’d live with the question—and the regret—forever.
