Smoke Bomb by Abbi Glines

Eight

Trinity

One Year Ago

No one wanted me here. Not even my father. Even after he’d almost died of a heart attack, he hadn’t cared that I’d come home. For him. To help Tabitha, who hated me, take care of him. This stupid church that Tabitha loved so much had been brutal to sit through. Hearing the minister preach about how hidden sins would find you out.

Well, I sure as hell hoped not because my father would have another heart attack.

Rolling my eyes, I jerked the door handle on my car harder than necessary, wishing I’d just stayed in Georgia. Perhaps I should just go somewhere else. Find a new place to move to. Start a new life. Tabitha had said Roy and his wife, Anita, were coming for a visit next week. I hadn’t seen him in four years. I’d not gone to his wedding. I refused to be anywhere he was going to be. If he was coming, then I was leaving.

“Excuse me. Trinity, right?”

A male voice startled me, and I spun around to see the man who had spoken before the minister this morning. He looked to be about my age. I wasn’t blind. This man was nice to look at, but he was also a minister of sorts. He was probably coming to save my black soul. I forced a smile and hoped that Tabitha was not out in the parking lot yet, seeing this. I’d come to this church because my father had asked me to. When I was growing up, Tabitha wouldn’t bring me to church with her. She would tell me that those with demons in them weren’t allowed inside the doors. Why my father had thought I should attend church now, I had no idea.

“Yes,” I replied.

His grin spread, making a dimple appear in his left cheek. Okay, so he was handsome and had a dimple. He still loved the Lord and all. Not for me.

“I was, uh, well, I noticed you this morning, and I asked around.”

He looked unsure of himself. That wasn’t expected. I said nothing, curious as to what this was about. He cleared his throat and looked down, then back up at me through his ridiculously long lashes.

“Sorry. I’m not normally so bad at this. You make me nervous,” he explained. “Would you like to go have coffee? Or lunch maybe?”

That was not what I had guessed this was about. I opened my mouth and closed it.

Was this him asking me out? Or had Tabitha told him I was a sinner, bound for eternal damnation, and he was going to try to save my soul?

He ran a hand through his hair and lightly chuckled. “I’m Hayes Kingston. My grandfather is the minister here. I swear I’m not as crazy as it currently seems.”

Wow. The minister’s grandson. I wondered if the man knew his grandson was asking me to coffee. I glanced around the parking lot and immediately saw Tabitha glaring at me. I was speaking to her beloved minister’s grandson. She wasn’t happy about it. I was sure to shame her by simply breathing.

Snapping my gaze back to the man standing in front of me, I smiled brightly. “I’d like that,” I told him.

When he smiled this time, his eyes twinkled with excitement, and I felt a little flutter in my chest. Hayes Kingston was very good-looking, I realized. This would probably be a one-time thing. Tabitha would be sure to bash my name the moment she could. He’d never want to see me again. For now, I’d enjoy a meal with a handsome man who I made nervous. While also making Tabitha furious.

Present Day

Eventually, I was able to get myself together, get up from my pathetic breakdown on the floor, and go to the bathroom. A long, hot shower, cleansing myself from the ugliness that I had accepted and even embraced, helped me clear my head even if it didn’t do anything for the pain that was a part of me. When I exited the bathroom, I saw food had been delivered, but I had no appetite. Forcing myself to eat would only make me sick. I’d tried that in the past.

I curled up on the sofa to watch mindless television shows. Sitcoms where family life was entertaining and all was well at the end of the thirty minutes it took to air. I didn’t know how long I’d sat there, nor did I care what time it was when I heard the footsteps on the stairs once again. The sound caused a sick knot in my stomach, and my eyes shifted to the food I hadn’t touched.

Would I be forced to eat? It wouldn’t be the first time.

Tabitha had caught me sneaking a handful of chips from the pantry once. She then forced me to eat the entire bag and then another until I threw up. Then, she’d given me a spoon and stood over me with a long, thin hickory switch, snapping it across my back until I ate my vomit. To this day, I couldn’t eat plain potato chips.

I fisted my hands in my lap. I wasn’t a child anymore, and physical and emotional pain were things I had learned to survive. Huck was a large man, and as much as I disgusted him, I didn’t believe he would hurt me physically. But then I had been wrong about so many things in life.

My eyes stayed trained on the television show I had been watching. I had no idea what the name of it was, but that didn’t matter. It kept my thoughts preoccupied.

“You didn’t eat.”

His deep voice made me tense.

I would not let this man do any more damage. He had no idea the level of suffering I could endure.

I shrugged. “I didn’t have an appetite.” My eyes never left the television.

Silence. I fought against counting the seconds that ticked by. If the man lunged at me and strangled me to death or began hitting me, then perhaps death was something I could embrace. End this life I’d been given.

“Get up. Get your things.”

He liked to order me around. Perhaps if I were a stronger woman who had a backbone, I would stand up to him. See how he liked being told no. But I’d been beaten down long before I met Huck Kingston.

Standing, I walked over and picked up the few things that I could call mine, then turned to look at him. He was scowling, as if being down here this close to me was his own form of punishment. I wished I didn’t care. Perhaps it was the way he frowned or the way his eyes were set in his head. It reminded me of Hayes. The only person in my life to not see my faults. The only male to ever make me feel special.

“Is that it?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Follow me.”

He turned and started toward the steps. Was I being moved to a room now so I could cook and clean, or was I being sent home to possibly be murdered? At least I wasn’t being left locked up in his basement. If he sent me away, I might possibly survive long enough to leave the state, change my appearance, but then all of that took money. I wasn’t sure my car could get me that far at the moment.

Panic slowly began to trickle in, and I focused on my breathing as I followed Huck up the stairs. Either option was terrifying.

No … no … stop!I wasn’t going to fall apart in front of this man. If I didn’t live to see another sunrise, then so be it. But I would not let this man see me crack. He wouldn’t get the satisfaction.

At the top of the stairs, he turned left, and I followed him. We turned to go up another flight of stairs. That was my answer. I was to stay and be the housekeeper and cook. The panic clawing at my chest eased some.

The new set of stairs was impressive, wide and curved. A chandelier hung overhead, and I realized I’d never seen this part of the house. It was open with windows and light pouring in everywhere. This wouldn’t be bad. I could do this.

Huck stopped at the top of the stairs, then barely glanced back at me before pointing toward the wide hallway. “The third door on your right. You’ll stay there. We will expect breakfast at seven thirty every morning, we aren’t here for lunch, and you’ll be notified if we will require dinner. Keep a list of items you need from the grocery store, and that will be handled. Every room needs to be thoroughly cleaned each week. The rooms that are occupied, you will straighten and clean daily. Don’t leave the house without permission. You can’t be without protection.” Huck spoke as if this were something we’d already discussed.

When I said nothing and only nodded, he glared at me.

“If you don’t want to die, you’ll refrain from stealing shit,” he snapped. “Do your job and stay out of the way otherwise.”

I wasn’t a thief, but explaining what he’d seen on my background check wasn’t something he wanted. He believed what he wanted to about me. Most people did. I wasn’t going to lose sleep over that.

I managed a nod, took my things, and walked past him toward the third door on the right. For now, I was safe, out of the dungeon, and no one was going to starve me or force me to vomit. This wasn’t living free, but it was living. I would just be thankful for that.