The television’s on in the living room. Must’ve been set to record and something was left on. Dad stands behind the decadent pulpit, lights glittering around him. Even from Mexico, he manages to do his weekly sermon, live and televised. I stalk to the coffee table and snatch up the remote control. I have to get him out of my face—out of my fucking head.
Dad will have my ass in a sling if he finds out Mo slept in my bed. Shit, if he even thinks we’ve hooked up, he’ll fuck us all over. All the pent-up fury from the last few years flows through my body. I hurl the remote across the living room. It smacks the television with a loud crash, leaving a great purple streak down his face where the impact cracked the screen from the bottom edge up to the top corner. His image flickers and fades to black.
The man is a control freak, ego-maniac. So damned worried his reputation could be tarnished if his son and his ward get it on. He’s held that over my head since that first summer Mo lived here.
Before Mo moved down to the guest house, she had the room between me and Rachel. We’d gone to a movie. I almost kissed her in the car, but we were interrupted.
Later that night I caught her in the hall outside of our rooms. “Hey.”
She looked up with those big blue eyes. “Hi.”
“So, about earlier…” I stepped to her, taking her hand.
She nodded and licked her lips, igniting a spark in my groin.
I backed her to the wall. “I said I want to kiss you; I meant it.”
Her eyes got big as I moved in, but they fluttered closed. Her hands came to rest on my chest and her sweet scent invaded my senses. Her smooth skin teased my fingers as I pushed them into the hair at her nape.
I leaned closer, ready to taste her for the first time.
“Daniel Wayne Jennings.” Dad’s voice was fierce, the tone he only used for the worst offenses.
Great.
I pulled away. Mo slipped out of my hands. Her door closed as Dad stomped toward me.
He grabbed my arm and shoved me into my room, slamming the door behind him.
I twisted out of his grip. “What are you doing?”
“I can’t believe this.”
My heart raced. “It was just a kiss—not even that yet.”
“What are you thinking? She’s your sister.” His lips pulled tight over his teeth in a hard line.
“She’s not my sister. Are you freaking crazy?”
He took two strides, his finger pointed at my face. “She may as well be. She lives in this house, like my child. You stay away from her, Daniel. I mean it. Don’t let this go any further.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. What’s wrong with me and Mo dating?”
His voice lowered to a whisper. “It’s unseemly, both of you living under the same roof. No. It’s not happening.”
I crossed my arms. “Screw that. It’s not fair.”
One of his eyebrows shot up. “Fair? I’ll give you fair. You will cease this pursuit of Mona Lisa immediately or I’ll donate your trust fund to the ministry where it will do some good.”
My entire body tensed. “You can’t do that. That’s my money from Mom’s parents.”
He propped his hands at his waist. “I can, and I will. They made me and your mother trustees. Either one of us can make decisions on how it’s doled out to you. We’ll do whatever we want.”
“Mom wouldn’t agree to that. Not over this crock of shit.”
“Wouldn’t she? You and I both know your mother leaves all things financial to me.”
A heat wave flashed over me. “I don’t care about the money. I’ll make my own money when I finish school.”
He stepped back, his jaw ticking. After the longest time, he said, “Fine. Then I’ll do the same with Rachel’s trust and Mo’s too. Would you do something that would rob them of their future?”
“The hell you would.”
“Oh, don’t be mistaken, Son. You and Mona Lisa dating would look bad on this family, and my public image. I can’t have that. The congregation—no—the world expects a certain level of morality from us.”
My chest hardened. I strode to my door and opened it. “Fine. You can go; you’ve made your point.”
The next weekend Mo was moved down to the guest house.
As if anyone gives two shits what I do.
What a prick. He’s so convinced everyone cares about our family and what we do.
Yeah, I guess there’s a certain amount of scrutiny with him being the huge televangelist he is. Sure, some of the media would love to see the iconic David Jennings fall flat on his face, and finally prove he’s the hypocritical fraud that he is. But I doubt anything I do could make that happen.