“THAT'S ENOUGH!”
My father's voice booms across the attic, and we all turn to see him standing there at the stairway to the second floor like a goddamn grizzly bear.
Well, a goddamn grizzly bear with a shotgun in his hands leveled right at Leonard.
“I said that's enough, Leonard,” he says fiercely, training the shotgun right at him.
The attic goes still, and I notice Silas and Kyle standing on the steps behind my father, Silas with a baseball bat in his hands.
Leonard's eyes narrow, his fingers twitching on the pistol in his hand as he whirls on my father. “Stay back, Jacob!” he spits, brandishing the gun. “Do you know what your heathen of a son-”
“Put. The gun. Down,” my father says evenly.
“That's my daughter!” Leonard screeches, gesturing wildly with the gun.
“And that's my son.” My father's shoulders heave as he quickly looks at me and then back at the other man. “Leonard, let's just put these down and talk like men of God.”
The gun comes crashing into my temple, sending blinding light and black stars in front of my eyes as Eva screams. My dad bellows and lunges forward, but he freezes as Leonard brings the gun around to bear right at him.
“I believe my work here with this Center of yours is done, Jacob.”
My dad's eyes narrow to slits, his teeth bared through his beard. “I believe you're goddamn right it is.”
“I tried!” Eva's father roars, standing. “Lord above knows I tried.” He shakes his head, looking deranged as he brandishes the gun around the room. “But there's too much wickedness here, Jacob! Too much sin in this wretched place!”
He whirls back to his wife and daughter. “We’re leaving.”
Ruth’s brow crumples. “Leonard-”
“I said, we are LEAVING!” he bellows at his wife, and she flinches as he takes a step towards her.
“Come along, Evangeline,” she says quietly.
“No, Dad-!”
I ignore the blinding pain in my head as I stumble to my feet, lunging at Leonard and Ruth as they half drag Eva, still wrapped in the sheet towards the door. Leonard lashes out, catching me with the back of his hand again and sending me sprawling before he levels the gun at Silas, Kyle, and my dad.
“We are leaving, Jacob.” He looks down at me, his eyes narrowing. “Do not follow us, and do not ever try and contact my daughter again, or there will be damnation to pay.”
“Dad!” Eva screams, her eyes darting to me lying there on the floor. “Let me go! Let me-!”
“Go,” he growls at his wife. “Now.”
Eva looks at me, her tear-streaked eyes pleading, her lips moving softly.
I'm sorry, they say.
And then they're gone, out the door to the outside staircase.
I'm vaguely aware of lurching towards her again before it all goes black.
Chapter Forty-Five
Rowan
“Easy. Easy, Row!”
Kyle’s voice lances through the dull ache in my head, and I can feel an arm pushing me back down as I try and sit up.
“Get off…” I mumble, my eyes still closed. I go to sit up again, but the arm is back, pushing me down.
My eyes fly open, and I wince.
Fuck.
My mouth feels like cotton, and my head fucking pounds as I slowly close, then re-open my eyes, and look around the room.
I’m in my parents’ living room, on the couch, with all of them hovering over me — Ivy, Silas, Kyle, Vivian, Sierra, Stella, with Carter hiding behind her, Mom, and my dad. Stella’s bent over me, a pair of pliers and some thread in her hands.
“Sit still,” she says with a frown as she leans over me. A sharp pain lances through my head.
“Fuck, Stel!”
She sighs. “Look, sit still or I’m going to mess up the stitches and mess up that handsome mug, okay?”
“Stitches?”
And then it all comes back to me in a horrible rush. The gun. Leonard. Eva screaming as he dragged her away.
I shut my eyes and sink back into the couch, wanting it all to just go away.
Stella finishes her last stitch, but I’m not even feeling it anymore as she applies an adhesive bandage to my temple.
Kyle leans over, his face furrowed. “How you feeling, man?”
“I didn’t think accepting the Holy Spirit was supposed to hurt this much.”
My brother smiles.
“Jesus, man, I’ve taken some hits but pistol whipped by a preacher is a new one,” Silas says with a grin.
“Alright, that’s enough,” my dad rumbles, pushing forward and clearing everyone away. “Give him some space.”
I glance up at him. “Thank you.”
He nods, his face tight.
Gingerly, I swing my legs over the side of the sofa and sit up, grunting at the throb in my head.