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“I thought Sam would be okay. The family who was fostering him seemed nice, and they let me visit him when I wanted. I still wanted him to come live with me, but it didn’t seem as pressing because I thought he was being taken care of. And Sam seemed to be doing okay. I figured I would slowly build up enough money to get a bigger apartment and then talk to his case worker about him living with me.”
The laugh she lets out is filled with bitterness, and the curl of her lips is made with disgust. I want to reach over and grab her hand, giving her whatever comfort I can offer. I keep my hands on my thighs though.
“What happened?” I gently prod.
Her eyes lift and meet mine, and I’m shocked at the pain darkening them.
“His foster family wasn’t what I thought they were. At least not the dad or his son,” she answers with a hint of anger in her tone. “Those two sick bastards touched Sam in ways no one should touch a child. And made him believe they would hurt me if he said anything.”
“My God,” I breathe, my throat tightening to hold back the bile wanting to come up.
“I didn’t find out until a month ago. They’ve never left any sort of visible marks on him, and they were careful enough to not leave him in pain. Except the last time. Apparently, the son got carried away one night and raped him so forcefully he could barely walk. I stopped by the house, which it just so happened that no one else was home, and found Sam in his bed crying. He didn’t want to tell me what was wrong at first, but I eventually got it out of him. I took him out of there. No one knew I was coming by that day, so they don’t know what happened to him.”
A tiny niggle forms in the back of my mind, but I push it aside for a moment and ask, “Why didn’t you go to the police?”
Lines appear by the corners of her eyes when they narrow, and her lips press together. “Because of who this family is. They wouldn’t believe Sam and me.”
“They would examine Sam and find evidence of abuse.”
Her head jerks up. “They would, but they wouldn’t find proof it was the man or the son. Only that someone… forced themselves on him. They always used condoms, so they could easily say it was someone who broke into the house. These people have too much influence. And I’m worried the state would put Sam back in their home.” She shakes her head emphatically. “I will not take the chance of him going back there.”
The judicial system was put in place to judge people based on their crimes and to detain them if the crime warrants it. But it’s God who is the ultimate judge and He will deliver a sinner’s rightful punishment.
It’s not often I question my beliefs, but now is one of those times. No one who would do such things to a child should be allowed to keep their freedom. And Lord forgive me, a part of me wishes painful retribution on the two men who hurt Sam.
I try to hold my mounting anger in check and look back at Jersey. “Who is this family?”
She watches me, her eyes gauging on whether or not she can trust me. I hold her gaze, silently telling her she can. In the short time I’ve known this woman, I’ve come to realize I would never betray her, and I would do anything to protect her. That includes her little brother.
“Mayor Beckett.”
I’m not surprised by the name she gives. I already suspected as much because the disappearance of the mayor’s foster son has been all over the news for the last few weeks. What does surprise me is how easily the mayor and his son are able to hide such a dark side of their souls from the public eye. I would have never guessed the pair would be so sick in such a way.
What also surprises me is the rage I feel on behalf of Sam and his sister. I haven’t felt this much anger since I became a priest. Before I took my vows, I had bouts of anger because of how my father treated my sisters, mother, and me. I learned to let go of that emotion and embraced goodness. That goodness is nowhere to be found at the moment. All I want right now is to confront Mayor Beckett and his son, Mark, and plow my fist through their faces.
Closing my eyes, I take a calming breath and silently recite several bible verses in my head. Once I’m reasonably sure my anger has cooled, I open my eyes and meet Jersey’s. She’s watching me with an expression I’m not sure I can name.
“I know you believe there’s nothing that can be done, but you and Sam can’t be on the run forever.” I grab her hand and lace our fingers together. The move is inappropriate, but I feel the need to touch her in some way. “I want to call a friend of mine. He’s a detective.” I squeeze her hand when she opens her mouth to interrupt. “I trust this person. I would never do anything that would put you or Sam in harm’s way, and I trust this man enough to ask him for help. If it makes you feel any better, I won’t mention any names until I know he can help us for sure.”
Using her free hand, she brings it up to her mouth and begins chewing on her thumb nail as she contemplates my suggestion. Indecision wrinkles the skin between her eyes. I wait and hope she accepts my offer, because I’m not sure what else to do. Her and Sam leaving isn’t an option I’m willing to consider. It’s too dangerous and they’ll eventually get caught, which means Sam may go back to the mayor’s house and Jersey would be charged with kidnapping. Neither of those things are acceptable.
“Okay,” she eventually says, and a huge weight falls off my shoulders. “Can we do it tomorrow? I want to let Sam get a good night’s sleep before we start this.”
“Sure.” I smile and give her hand a little squeeze. “You should get some sleep too. I’ll call Detective Erikson in the morning.”
As if her body is in agreement, a big yawn has her mouth stretching open wide. She puts a hand over her mouth to cover it.
“I guess I am pretty tired. And sleeping on clean sheets sounds heavenly.”
Getting up from the couch, I pull her up by her hand. “You’ll be sleeping on clean sheets from now on.” I make the vow and have every intention of keeping it.
“Thank you for everything, Wesley.”
Before I can stop myself, I pull Jersey forward until she’s against my chest. I’ve broken so many rules tonight already. What’s one more?
I close my eyes and soak in the feeling of having her pressed against me. Her slender arms are wrapped around my waist, and her head rests on my chest. She feels perfect where she is, like it’s exactly where she’s supposed to be.
“I promise I’m going to help you get through this. The mayor, nor his son, will ever touch Sam again.”
