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“I mean, I have ten days. Maybe just go along with it while we plan our escape.”
“We?” Purity sounds nervous, and I nod with a growing determination.
“Yes us, Purity. It’s only a matter of time before you’re manipulated in the same way. I’m guessing they’ve already chosen your husband and you will live an empty life with a man you don’t love.”
“I know.” She sounds worried, and she has every right to be because there are slim pickings in Heaven on the husband front as most of the men here are brainwashed their entire lives and believe a woman’s place is under them and then waiting on them.
We both turn at the same time and share the same expression, which makes us smile and I reach for her hand and whisper, “I’ll need your help. Leave it with me and I’ll find a way and this time there will be no mistakes.”
CHAPTER4
JONNY
The house is empty, which suits me just fine. I chose this time because, as always, like clockwork, my parents will be at church praying for my soul with a righteous pomposity that they’ve worn like a cloak their entire life.
As I wander around the familiar rooms, it makes my blood run cold as past demons circle me with memories of a bitter past.
They tried so hard to wear me down. To indoctrinate me in the ways of this tainted town, but somewhere deep inside I wanted more. I always knew there was more, and I suppose the anger built to a point where it destroyed me.
This isn’t my first homecoming. When I returned from the military, I bumped into Faith, literally, and I’m guessing her parents wished I never had. We were an explosion that rocked this town, and I would have killed for her.
To this day I still don’t know why she ran from me, and it hurt—so damned hard. My pride took a battering along with my heart and after a colossal row with my folks, I was sent packing with mom’s words ringing loud in my ears. She told me there was no place in Heaven for a man who murders innocent people. She called me a sinner. A brutal sinner who deserved to burn in hell for his crimes. Then my father disowned me and told me I was no child of theirs and to never come back.
Well, shit happens, I guess, and a wry smile ghosts my lips as I prepare for their reaction to the prodigal son showing his face once again.
I fix myself a coffee and carry it from room to room, familiarizing myself with a house that was never a home. The bare minimum with no fancy edges. A lot like every home in Heaven because possessions are the Devil’s work.
I kick open the door to my room and stare with interest at the single bed and simple cotton curtains billowing at the open window overlooking the corn fields. No skyscrapers here, no coffee shops or bars. Just open land to cleanse a person’s soul.
It’s my own personal hell.
The bare floorboards creak under the weight of my boot and the air is still as it waits for rare drama to unfold.
The painted walls are stark, with no pictures or mirrors to please the eye, definitely no mirrors because staring at your reflection is considered vanity, which has no place here.
To be honest, I’m wondering why I’m here at all. I don’t belong here; I never did, but it’s a starting point, I guess.
I finish up my coffee and head to the stark kitchen and rinse my mug under the trickle of water before setting it down to drain. Sighing inside, I stare out at the yard and remember many hours playing there as a child. Alone.
I never really thought about it, but now I’m back, it saddens me. There is a strict one child policy in Heaven. Any more is considered careless. As a result, I played alone for most of my life, making my own entertainment as my mind went slowly mad. Even at school, we sat at single desks and friendships were frowned upon because they believed it distracted our minds from education. It angers me when I think of my life now. The friends I have that are more like brothers and the richness they bring to my life.
My jacket rests like a comforting arm around my shoulder. A gentle pack on the back and a silent friend by my side. The club’s emblem is emblazoned across the back, and it makes me smile. The Grim Reaper sits on my back and is inked on my arm.
Twisted Reaper MC is written on my back, both on the jacket and again on my shoulders. I am branded and belong to a very exclusive club that stands for a whole lot of honor and sacrifice. I’m used to that; I can live with dedicating my life to my brothers, but it appears I can’t live without one more chance with Faith.
I hear the car making its way to the front porch and wonder with interest what their reaction will be. They will already know the devil is in town from my girl out the front, gleaming in the sunlight as she makes a powerful statement outside.
I can imagine their hearts dropping and the nerves jangling. Anger for sure and a desire to get rid of their visitor before anyone else discovers I’m here.
I take a seat at the simple wooden table facing the door and wait with interest to watch them walking through it.
Their footsteps are slow and heavy, even now they move around like demons with chains on their soul. Almost robotic with no mind of their own and I wonder if I would be the same if I hadn’t discovered a mind of my own.
The door opens and I stare into the narrowed eyes of my father, who is wearing his distaste for everyone to see. I peer past him and note the pinched face of my mother as she glances my way with a worried frown.
“Leave.”
A simple word that tells me exactly where I stand, and I shrug.
