Legions (Georgia Smoke #7)

Eleven

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“No money can’t fix everything, but added with a healthy dose of revenge, it sure can change the course.”

Capri

The door swung open before I made it to the front porch of my parents’ home. Esther stood there with a look of relief, judgment, and bitterness, all flashing in her expression as she stared at me. We were not the same; perhaps that was why we were so close while growing up. Opposites attract.

“Hey,” I said as I reached the top step.

Esther’s gaze flicked over me, and she kept a tight look on her face. “You look different.”

The words “You don’t” were right there on the tip of my tongue, but I held them in. There was no need to point out the obvious. We both knew that I had changed, whereas she had stayed and would always remain the same—just like her mother, just like mine. She’d live their life.

I stepped past her into the home I had grown up in, and she moved back to let me in. My mother sat on the sofa with a cup of tea in her hands and an afghan wrapped around her shoulders. Her eyes lifted to meet mine, and the dark circles beneath hers were puffy. She didn’t look the same. She had changed. I had wanted her to change, but this wasn’t what I meant. The life in her eyes dimmed, and her energy zapped.

“Mom,” I said as I walked over to sit down beside her on the sofa.

“You came,” she replied. Her voice hoarse and hollow.

“Yes,” I said. Although I didn’t know what else to say. What did you say to your mother when the man she had been married to for the past thirty-one years had left her and his church for another woman? I wasn’t sure there was anything to say.

She leaned forward, took an envelope off the coffee table, and handed it to me. “He left this,” she said.

I looked down at it and saw my name written in his neat handwriting. I didn’t want to take it, but she held it out, and I felt like I had to. Why would he leave me a letter? Had he not done enough to Mom? One final jab to leave me an explanation, but not her.

I studied it, not sure if I should open it or not. I was afraid of what he might say, but I also knew she wanted to know. She deserved more than he’d given her. Mom was a lot to deal with, but she had sacrificed for him and been an excellent minister’s wife. Her world had been molded for his benefit.

My stomach twisted as I slid my fingernail underneath the seal to loosen it. It was best to get it over with so healing could begin, and I could move on.

The paper was his stationary he kept in his office. Unfolding it slowly, I hoped I wouldn’t regret this. Maybe tossing it into a fire would have been better. Stilling myself and my expression, I dropped my gaze on the words.

Capri,

Finding the right words is difficult. Explaining to you why, how, it all seems like an impossible task. One that I can’t give you that you will understand. The truth is simple. It isn’t easy. It leaves pain and devastation in its wake.

I am in love with Maelee. I fought against it. Tried not to feel anything. But it happened anyway. People will talk. No doubt Maelee will be blamed. A temptress that Satan sent to destroy me. If that makes your mother feel better, then perhaps that is best. However, the truth is I married your mother too young. I wasn’t a man yet who knew life. That had lived. I’d never had sex with a woman. I’d believed it was a sin before marriage. She had been my first real girlfriend. It was young love. First love.

I didn’t know real love until the day I held you in my arms. You were something I’d give my life for, something I’d sacrifice for. And I did. I lived every day focused on the Lord, following His word, and being the husband and father He said I was to be. While you were growing up, you became a focus for us. We both loved you and could share that love.

But you grew up. No longer needed us. You were the beautiful woman that we had successfully raised. You knew your own mind. You were living your life. And we were growing further and further apart because the love we had once felt for each other had long ago faded. It hadn’t been strong enough to withstand the changes that occurred as we became adults—faced life.

Maelee began helping in the church pantry, handling office work that became too much, and organizing different events. We were around each other more and more. I was drawn to her. She filled an emptiness inside me I had grown so accustomed to that I was unaware it was there. When she was with me, I saw things brighter. I smiled more. She made me laugh. I felt like a man reborn.

I am sorry.

Not because I fell in love with Maelee. But because I let it go on so long. I should have admitted it, told your mother, stepped down from the position at church, and left town years ago.

In time, I hope you can forgive me. I love you. I am always available for you. If you need me, I will be there.

Dad

My hands gripped the paper tightly, and I saw it tremble. How did I let my mother read this? It would only break her more than it already had. Reading that the man you’d promised forever to hadn’t loved her since before I was born. Another roll of my stomach, I closed my eyes, then folded the paper back, not wanting to look at her.

“You’re not going to tell me then?” she asked.

Opening my eyes, I looked at her. “I don’t think I can.” She needed honesty. She’d lived the majority of her life being lied to. He was right about me not understanding him, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to forgive him.

He had given into lust. A younger woman who had always shown off her abundant cleavage and wore shorts and skirts a touch too short. Maelee had been known in high school as the cheerleader who would give head in the locker room before a game. Rumor was she even let three players shoot their load all over her face once at the same time. I hadn’t cared what people said about her or paid attention to the gossip.

Until now.

“What? Is he telling you he loves her?” she asked, anger laced in her words.

I nodded. “Yes.”

She rolled her eyes. “He loves her alright. He loves that she does dirty things. But he’s old. She won’t stay with him. She liked his power, but now he isn’t the minister anymore. He isn’t important.”

This was all very true. My dad may think he loved her, but it was very likely that she wasn’t in love with him but his title. Time would only tell.

“I won’t take him back. I can’t. I was willing to even after,” she swallowed her hands, gripping the cup as she paled. “Even after I heard him telling her how tight her… her asshole was.” She shook her head. “God, he was taking her in the butt. Who lets a man do that?”

That was way more information than I needed. My eyes swung to Esther, whose pinched face looked like a mixture of disgust and uncertainty. She looked at me a moment—an unspoken conversation going on with our eyes only. We had done this kind of thing since we were kids. Right now, she was thinking exactly what I was, that Maelee was a slut that would leave my dad soon enough. Now, the excitement was over.

Esther’s head turned to look out the front windows. “There’s a truck here,” she said, stepping toward the door and then stopping. “Oh.”

Standing up, I headed for the door, already knowing who it was. I hadn’t texted or called Thatcher. I had just left. He’d come after me.

“I’ll be right back,” I told them both as I opened the door and stepped outside onto the porch.

Thatcher’s dark gaze locked on me as his long strides brought him closer. He was searching my face for answers.

“What’s wrong?” his voice was raspy.

I held out the note to him. This was easier than explaining it all. I didn’t think I could say the words.

He scowled as he took it, opening it up as he continued to watch me. When he finally dropped his gaze to the letter, I stiffened, knowing what he would read. I wished there was a way to make it all go away for my mom so that she could move on as easily as he had.

His jaw clenched, and his neck flexed as if the note made him angry, which made no sense. It was no secret that he didn’t like my parents.

When he lifted his eyes to meet mine, he didn’t hand me back the note. “How is your mom?”

I let out a hard, short laugh. “Destroyed.”

He glanced past me toward the house. “Do you trust me?” he asked.

I narrowed my gaze. “You know I do, but why are you asking me.”

He folded the letter and then held it back to me before taking a final step and pulling me into his arms. “Don’t leave me again without a word. I’d have come with you.”

“I was in shock. I came here on autopilot.”

He pressed a kiss to my head. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, inhaling my hair. “But let me help her.”

I leaned my head back to look up at him, confused. “My mom?”

He nodded his head once.

“How can you help my mom? I do not want my dad killed, no matter how stupid he is or how careless his actions were. I still love him.”

He smirked. “I’m not going to kill him.”

I studied him a moment. “And Maelee is a homewrecking slut, but she also does not deserve to die.”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my lips. “I’m not offering to kill anyone. Just help your mother to move on sooner. Give her some pride back. And if she wants it, some revenge.”

I thought about it. Not sure I could let Thatcher offer anything. His actions could be questionable.

He ran a hand through my hair. “Just hear me out. Let your mom decide.”

If there was an answer to all this, then I would be relieved. I hated thinking about how my mom felt right now. The pain she was enduring. The wasted years she had given to my dad and the church.

“Okay,” I agreed.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered, then nodded his head toward the front door of the house.

I turned to open it when he reached around me and did it instead. Walking inside, Esther’s eyes widened at the sight of Thatcher so close behind me. The appreciation for the beautiful god that he looked like was evident. Even if she didn’t approve of him.

Thatcher let the door close behind us, and my mom’s eyes bore into him with distaste. He had taken me away from her. He was the reason for me being a sinner.

“Mrs. Jewel,” he said in greeting.

She stiffened but said nothing, her eyes shifting to look at me accusatory. I’d brought someone she hated into her home while she was suffering and at her lowest

“Mom, all I ask is that you listen to whatever he wants to say,” I told her.

She looked back at Thatcher.

He was so out of place in the living room. Throw pillows with scripture sewn into them, a painting of the Lord’s Supper above the sofa, different uplifting promises from the Bible in frames, and sitabouts that cluttered the place. Mom wasn’t one to leave a spot bare. She covered every surface with things.

“What is it?” she asked him, appearing as if she wanted to toss her cup of hot tea at him rather than hear anything he said.

Thatcher walked over and sat in the recliner that faced my mother. His worn jeans, black combat boots, and tight gray t-shirt smelled of the cigarette he’d had on his drive over here with the spice and woodsy mix that always clung to him. I was momentarily distracted by the sight as my thoughts went to waking up this morning with him over me, sliding his hard length inside me. His bare chest flexed with each thrust, and his eyes never left mine.

“What if I told you not only could I give you back your pride but a new start, your chance to decide what it is you want to do? Not what he wanted or needed you to do?”

My mother stiffened. “I do not want your illegal money. That isn’t the fix to everything,” she replied as if he’d slapped her.

He leaned back and relaxed as he studied her. “No money can’t fix everything, but added with a healthy dose of revenge, it sure can change the course.”

She shook her head. “There is no revenge.”

The small tug at the corner of Thatcher’s lips intrigued me. What was he thinking? I should have asked him before letting him in here.

“Your husband has an offshore bank account with over three million dollars in it—three point five, to be exact,” he said, then glanced back at me. “Are you okay with her hearing this?” he asked, and I knew he was referring to Esther.

I stood there trying to determine how he knew this and how my father would have that kind of money in an account. That was more than the money he’d gotten for getting Thatcher off from a murder charge. And a good deal of that money had been used. I wasn’t sure if anyone should hear this. I hesitated, but seeing as Esther had been here for my mom when I hadn’t, she was just as much family as I was.

I nodded.

He turned back to my mother.

“There is no way that Clark has that much money,” she replied, almost amused. “Offshore account. Ha! He hardly knows how to work the online banking app for our checking account.”

Thatcher took out his phone and tapped some things on it before replying. “Seems he’s taken out fifty grand since Sunday, but he won’t get more. I just froze it.”

My mother’s face faltered, unsure what to believe.

“Like I was saying. Your husband has money that he came by illegally. You see, it started when he testified in witnessing my killing Beauden Redd as being self-defense. The church was given three million dollars for that. A year later, the family needed someone trustworthy, whom no one would expect, a minister to take a deadly drug into the prison and deliver it to a prisoner who we needed to die. Clark was given half a million for that job once the inmate was declared dead by overdose,” Thatcher glanced at me before continuing. “There were other small jobs the next few years. Anything from sneaking something past the security to inmates to visiting someone in the hospital who hadn’t been meant to survive and adding a small dose to their IV. Granted, these were all men who deserved to die. They were dangerous, had done terrible things, and gotten away with it. Clark looked at it as vigilante work. Nine years ago,” he paused, glancing at me before continuing. “I stopped my father from contacting Clark again. All his connections with the family were ceased.”

Nine years ago. He’d come to see me in the church parking lot.

Thatcher paused and tilted his head slightly, waiting for my mother to say something. The stunned look on her face said enough. She was in shock. Perhaps I would be, too, if I hadn’t already known about the testimony that kept Thatcher from prison.

The fact Thatcher had never told me the rest, that once again he had held something from me, it took the scab that had recently formed and ripped it right off.

“I personally kept tabs on his account. Checked to see how he spent it and when he used any. It was rare that he did and never much. Until five years ago. He started taking out three thousand a month. Curious, I did some digging and found out that it was to pay for an apartment in Atlanta. My curiosity may have been curbed, but seeing as anything connected to Capri concerned me, I tracked him.”

I shook my head. He had known about this affair too. My hands clenched at my sides as I fought through my own turmoil.

“NO!” Esther shouted, causing me to jump.

I turned to look back at her to find she had gone completely white. Panic flared in her eyes as they swung from me to Thatcher and then to my mom. Sure, this was upsetting, but Esther was on another level.

“What?” Thatcher drawled. “It wasn’t like you were the first.”

Esther took a step back, shaking her head.

“Take one more step, and I’ll stop you,” Thatcher’s tone, although calm, was threatening.

I stared at her, trying to understand what was happening. Why was she acting like this?

“You can’t be saying,” my mother started.

“That Esther was meeting your husband at that apartment nights when he was meant to be doing hospital and jail visits? Yes. That is what I mean. She wasn’t the first young girl he’d fucked in the church, but she was the first one too afraid to do it in town. She was his daughter’s best friend, after all. Either it was the guilt that stopped her from going after two months or the fact he had started taking another girl to their apartment with him. Maelee had been next. Slowly, she became the only one unless another girl joined them.”

“Oh god, I… I’m sorry. I,” Esther let out a sob.

I stood there staring at Thatcher. What all did he know about my life? How many secrets was he keeping from me?

His eyes met mine and softened. “Don’t look at me like that, little doll. Think about my position. I would kill anyone that hurt you. How was I supposed to tell you something like this? When it would break your heart. Blow up your world and all you knew?”

I opened my mouth and closed it. This was all too much.

Other than Esther’s sobbing, the room was silent. No one spoke. Truths—ugly, horrible truths—clung to the air, almost suffocating me. When Esther let out a louder wail, I tensed. I didn’t feel sorry for her. I felt… disgust. Betrayal.

“Leave,” my mother’s sharp command shut Esther up as I swung my head back around to see her eyes leveled on Esther. “I don’t want to listen to your ridiculous crying, nor do I want to look at your face.”

Esther opened her mouth to say something but stopped.

“LEAVE!” my mother shouted.

Esther turned and ran from the house, the door left wide open behind her.

“You wanted her to be here for that,” my mother said, looking back at Thatcher.

He nodded. “I had my own secrets to come clean on,” he replied, his eyes not leaving my face.

She studied him. “Go on,” she urged. I saw a glint in her eyes. The glimmer of fight. The lost shell that I had walked into find earlier was fading. There was a spark back in her eyes. It was a frightening one. Completely out of place on my mother’s face.

“Your husband is a sex addict,” he said. “One that was finally caught and had to claim love to make it okay. Perhaps forgivable.”

My mother grimaced. “Explains a lot,” she said tightly. “We haven’t… had sex in years. He claimed he suffered from erectile dysfunction. And because of it, I believed him when I found porn on the web history in his office and he claimed it must have been the cleaning service. I fired them after telling them all to pray for their souls,” she let out a hard, bitter laugh. “The few times I’d noticed his erection behind his slacks, often after church, he’d claim that it was a side effect. It would show up for no reason and fade. That if he took medication for it that, it was even more difficult to control. Yet he was hard because he was thinking about what young female he was going to fuck later.”

My eyes flew open at the word coming from my mother’s lips.

“Now, Mrs. Jewel, would you like revenge? Because the three point five million dollars can build you the life you want.” Thatcher asked.

My mom’s body was rigidly straight, and her eyes were hard as she stared back at him. “My name is Charlene. I don’t want to be addressed as a Jewel again,” she said, then swung her gaze to me. “Can you handle it if I seek revenge?”

He was my dad.

But he had been her husband.

He had betrayed us both, but hers was deeper.

“Yes,” I replied.

She waited a moment before looking back at Thatcher. “He preached that God would be there when you were at the bottom. Your lowest point. When God was all you had left. That you could ask, and God would reach down and pull you up,” Mom said. “I want him to find out if the bullshit he preached works for someone as depraved as he is.”