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My father picks up his belt, snapping the leather between his fingers. His gaze moves to me and my chin is still lifted in defiance.
“No,” My father says, smiling wickedly. He gently places the belt down. “Come with me.”
I have no choice but to follow. I was raised to obey. I’m supposed to do whatever God commands of me.
But, I don’t care what they say. I won’t just go along with them blindly. Not when women and children are being hurt. Not while all of our money is being siphoned off by those at the top of the church hierarchy. Not while my little sisters are in danger.
My father walks me outside. It’s dark, and the air is cool and crisp, only in the way fall air can be. He leads me to the barn and swings open the heavy door.
My heart is pounding in my chest. I watch, only moving my eyeballs, as not to give away any hint of emotion. My father goes to a hook on the wall and removes a long, thick leather whip.
“Take off your shirt,” He thunders.
I do as he commands, but steel my expression. My hazel eyes stare into his matching ones and it makes him angrier.
“Turn around!”
The crack of the whip, the whistle as it slices through the air. It lands against the flesh of my shoulder blade, cutting my skin like a hot knife through butter. Searing pain. It causes my head to spin.
“You will marry who we tell you to! You have no say in the matter!”
My father lifts his arm again. The crack, the whistle, and I bite my lower lip. I try to stay upright, breathe through the pain. I will not marry some young girl. I don’t care what they say.
“You will not sully the reputation of your sisters!”
He strikes again and I kneel over, bracing myself from falling with my palms.
The cult controls everything, but I won’t let them hurt my sisters. He’s going to marry them off next and they’re just children. It’s evil. I don’t care if they say that it’s God’s master plan.
There’s another blow and I feel something warm dripping down, dribbling all the way down my leg. When I look down, I see that it’s blood.
Then, I’m awake, but drenched in sweat.
I’m gasping for air, but at least I’m safe in my bed.
The nightmare is always the same, but I wake up in different places.
This time, the moment before I decided to run away. The moment that I decided to be free.
Of course, I took my sisters with me. It was the only thing to do.
And the Grim Riders became my religion.
The air is so still that it’s stifling, but I even my ragged breaths.
I feel hopeless. My dreams are haunted by the past. My waking hours are plagued by the emptiness of my broken heart.
I just can’t stop thinking about Goldie.
I won’t let go of her that easily. Zeke and Rex are right.
I want to be assured that she’s free to make her own choices.
If she doesn’t choose us, that’s fine.
By the first morning light, I know just what to do, but I have to wait until a decent hour to drop in on my sisters.
It’s only eight am when I turn the key in the lock as silently as possible. I close the door gently and tiptoe inside, but Kiki is already awake, sitting at the small kitchen table with a steaming mug in front of her.
