The Mancini Saga (Book #1) I.O.U.

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The Mancini Saga (Book #1) I.O.U. Page 8

by April M. Reign


  “Mom and Dad had sat at the table, excited to taste what we made, but when they took their first bite, the look on their faces will be one I’ll never forget. Back then, I thought they loved it, come to find out, they both were sick for a week. Needless to say, Kyle and I got cooking lessons from Mom for the next month.” She laughed at the memory then hung up the phone.

  She laid in bed thinking about her parents and brother—and for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, she allowed herself to miss them terribly. She did everything she could not to cry; but for a few moments, she submitted to her emotions and let tears slide down her face.

  ***

  Carlo sat in his recliner at home and cursed himself for letting his temper and frustration get the best of him. It was going to be another sleepless night, trying to understand who Mia was and what she was doing in his life. One thing he was sure of: now that she was in his life, he would do everything in his power not to let her go.

  Chapter Seven

  Kyle kicked a small rock along the dirt road. He always walked Sara home, through the Compound from the one building, the schoolhouse that educated the children in the cult, but not much else. They had grown up together, first as best friends until they realized their feelings had grown deeper than friendship; their relationship was complicated.

  In order to spend time alone with one another, they had no choice but to lie to their parents and congregation. As long as the people of the Church of Biblical Truth believed they were simply friends, their relationship would remain unaffected. However, the moment that anyone found out their feelings was stronger than a platonic friendship, everyone would suffer . . . suffer the wrath of James for not asking for his approval and making their intentions clear—a risk that they both agreed to take.

  Kyle kicked the smooth rock closer to Sara’s walk-path. When he shuffled over to kick the stone again, he purposely brushed his hand against hers. Her soft skin sent a bolt of warmth through his body. Her round, blue eyes, gazed up at him, causing his heart to hammer against his chest.

  “Kyle,” she gazed up at him. “I don’t know how much longer I can go without kissing you.” Her eyes trailed down Kyle’s body and stared at the ground.

  Kyle secretly battled with his inner being, fighting with a desire to grab her and steal a passionate kiss, a forbidden kiss. Why did he fight against it? Maybe because he knew the consequences they both would suffer, and the disgrace their families would have to endure. No, he fought against those sinful desires, as James would say, because he vowed to be her protector and to keep her safe when she felt threatened. He would not abandon that promise.

  Sara swallowed against her pent-up emotion, quick tears stinging her eyes. They were alone, outside, and all she wanted was to feel his arms wrapped around her. His strong arms holding her close and tight against his body, that was all she wanted.

  Kyle glanced in all directions, searching up and down the dirt roads for prying eyes. He moved in closer to Sara, watching the dazed look on her wholesome face. He swallowed hard against his throat. The sweet scent of jasmine danced and frolicked through her blonde locks. Within every inch that he moved closer to her, his nose tickled with new smells and fragrances. Her lotion, her shampoo, everything mixed with her sweet breath—it was driving his senses wild.

  Bold and daring, without thinking, she brought her hand to his. She wrapped her slender, fingers into his large hands. He squeezed . . . she held her breath. Her heart was beating with such speed; she could feel her blood pumping through every vein. Although they stood mere inches from each other, she had an ache that kept him miles from her—the ache of knowing that their forbidden love was forbidden because of the Church rules governed by James.

  Nothing else mattered. No one else existed in his world. Only their two souls were engaged in the standstill moment before them. Kyle fought against his desire for her. He was losing the same battle he fought daily and desire was on the edge of winning. He had never kissed her enchanting lips. Yet, every second he was near her, he could think of nothing else. No matter how hard he tried to follow the rules of the church, he knew that today, those rules would no longer take precedence.

  When he saw her blue eyes moving in closer to his face, he realized that he was moving toward her. His determination to taste her lips had finally won over his willpower.

  She had run her tongue over her lips before Kyle reached them. It felt like years before his lips found hers. The intermingling of their breath lingered in the air just between their lips. Sara closed her eyes when his lips gently rested on hers.

  His lips were boldly soft and warm. A tingle spread through her body as her lips sank into the fluffy softness of his. She slightly moaned, shocked at the sound that came from behind her lips. Her fingers gripped his hand.

  The sweet taste of her mouth played havoc on his emotions, teasing his sensibility. He was on the verge of getting lost in the moment with Sara, but the fear of a church member noticing their encounter was the reason he pulled away. Without thought, Kyle scanned in all directions, exhaling with relief that there were no witnesses to their first kiss.

  Sara’s wobbly legs tried to hold up her body. She was dizzy and disoriented, but her eyes gripped Kyle’s gaze with ease. She did not care about the Church, James, or the congregation. All she cared about was the man standing in front of her—the man she hopelessly adored.

  “Come on,” he managed to whisper, “Let’s get home before our parents start to wonder where we are.”

  “I don’t care if they wonder, Kyle.”

  “Yes, you do. I promise you, we’ll leave here together. Once we convince our parents, we will leave. My sister promised she’ll come back for me.”

  “Okay,” she whispered, drawing her strength from him. She admired his determination and patience. He was her knight in shining armor.

  “Did you hear about the emergency sermon today?” she asked, trying to change the subject from her own desperate thoughts.

  “Yeah, James summoned the adults to go.”

  “I wonder what that’s about.” Sara glanced over at Kyle, appreciating his handsome profile, quickly looking away before he caught her admiration.

  Sara’s short, blonde hair and dot-to-dot freckles on her small nose always made her look younger than seventeen. However, her sensual curves contradicted her face, confirming that she was a full-grown woman. He glanced at her, staring at her profile, wishing that the time to leave the Compound were now.

  He adored Sara. He remembered a line from one of his sister’s letters that helped him realize how important the building blocks of a firm foundation was for him and Sara. She had written, ‘When you feel like you’re always on borrowed time, you appreciate your life more.’ He often thought about that one line. Every day, he felt as if he was borrowing time to see Sara and every day, he appreciated her even more.

  “I wrote a poem for you, but it’s silly,” she said, breaking the temporary silence.

  “Nothing you write is silly; you’re an amazing writer.”

  “A lot of good it’ll do me here,” she whispered. “I want to see what Mia sees. Her letters are always so descriptive. I remember one of her lines so vividly. She wrote, ‘The cool breeze carried the aroma of red candy apples through the streets, tantalizing my senses.’” Sara smiled.

  “You remember that?”

  “How could I forget? She is my inspiration.” Before Sara opened her front door, she stood in front of Kyle, putting her hand against his chest. “I love you, Kyle Evan Baker.”

  He grabbed her hand in his, brought it to his mouth, and pressed her hand firmly against his lips. His eyes closed as did hers and for a moment, they both let their emotions just happen. Then she pulled her hand away, sucking in a deep breath, she turned to open her front door.

  Sara’s parents sat on the sofa, talking as if they were two teenagers. Their over-exuberant emotions seemed unfitting. Kyle and Sara looked at each other, confused.

  “Kids, h
ow was school today?” Sara’s mom asked.

  Before they had a chance to answer, Sara’s mom had already left her seat on the couch and was dragging Sara by her hand back to the sofa. Sara looked back at Kyle, a touch of fear swept across her eyes.

  “Kyle, we need to talk with our daughter and I’m sure your parents will have something to talk with you about. So, you might want to head straight home.”

  Eeriness loomed around the room. He searched Sara’s face for a sign that it was okay for him to leave. She nodded toward him, and he took that as his cue to start home. “I’ll call you later.”

  Once outside the house, he drew in a deep breath. Two miles away, he could see the hundred-foot, cinder-brick wall that James used to keep his followers together. James claimed that he was keeping danger away from his flock . . . when in reality, he was keeping his believers away from the rest of the world.

  Ingrained in Kyle’s mind were details of the outside world that his sister wrote about in her letters. He was ready, ready to leave the only place he ever knew, and old enough to make a compelling argument to his parents.

  Within seconds of walking through his front door, Kyle’s landline phone rang out. He knew it was someone from the Compound, since all phones worked strictly on extensions. The minute that he answered, Sara’s cries caused his heart to race.

  “Kyle, James said it’s time. Kyle, please help me, my parents are excited,” she cried. “I’m scared!”

  “Wait a minute, what are you saying, Sara? I don’t understand. Start from the beginning,” he demanded.

  “The sermon today. . .” suddenly the phone went dead. He guessed that her parents had intervened. He slammed the phone down. He had never heard her cry like that. Anger surged through him a hundred times stronger than lightning.

  Kyle grabbed the phone and threw it against the wall. Following the phone, Kyle threw his closed fist into the living room wall repeatedly. With each blow, he grunted and finally cracked the wall under the pressure of his hundred and ninety-pound body thrown into each punch. After seconds, his brain became aware of the extreme pain his hand was experiencing, and he stopped, taking a moment to catch his breath.

  His knuckles suffered severe cuts and were bleeding; his emotions were desperate to understand. Sara’s cries resonated in his ears. He put his head in his hands and tried desperately to control his emotions.

  Kyle had lost his sister because of James, and now he could sense that he was going to lose more than a sister. Although Sara was not clear, he knew that something was going on that would change their lives. He had to make his parents see reason—and if he couldn’t, then he would use force.

  When Angela and Daniel walked in through the front door, they immediately saw the holes in the wall and the smeared blood that stained the edges of the white plaster. Frantic, they ran toward Kyle’s room, but detoured when they heard the bathroom sink’s water running. Kyle was leaning over the basin running cold water over fresh wounds.

  “What happened?” Daniel demanded.

  “James is what happened, Father!”

  “Please, Kyle, keep your voice down,” Angela whispered, compensating for her son’s outburst.

  “No, Mom, I won’t keep my voice down. Something is going on; Sara called me, crying hysterically.”

  His parents did not respond.

  “Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?” he yelled, pushing past his parents, storming into the living room. He sat down on the couch and put his head in his swollen, cut-up hands.

  Angela sat down next to her son while Daniel paced back and forth in the living room. After a few seconds, he faced his son, “Kyle, it’s time for us to talk.”

  “So, let’s talk, Dad.”

  “When your mother and I met, we were young. We were two years younger than you are now. It was a time when the people of our nation wanted peace. We were involved in the anti-war movement and we were told and believed that the government was evil, and I am sure to some degree, those anti-government protesters were right.” Daniel made his way to the window and glanced out from behind the curtain.

  Then he continued, “We met James at a peace rally. He preached to a crowd of people about love and unity. He claimed his theory was a movement that would change the world. Your mom and I loved being a part of his idealism especially when we—” he paused, not wanting to tell his son everything, but he knew he had to be honest, “when we were doped up. As time went on, we saw his eccentric side, and although we did not agree with many of his views, we were grateful to have his generosity.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Give me a second; there is a point to this. When your sister disappeared, it forced us to take a second look at his teachings and methods. We didn’t want to question him; we wanted to confirm that his views worked in our lives. We believe that there is a higher power; we just don’t believe it’s James. We came to that conclusion today.”

  “Why today?” Kyle asked, sincerely.

  “Because today he started his preaching with, ‘It’s time.’”

  “Time for what?” he demanded.

  “Time for eternal life; he told us that he was summoned by God to bring his flock through the Golden Gates. He explained to us that the act of loyalty will be our ultimate gift to him—ultimate gift to our higher power.”

  Kyle sat there stunned for a moment, now realizing what James had meant: taking the flock home. “Hell no, I’m not killing myself for anyone. Mia can help us, Dad. She has wanted to help us.”

  “Mia? My Mia?” Angela’s voice quivered.

  “Yes, Mom, our Mia.”

  Angela looked at her husband, horrified. Throwing her head in her hands, she burst out in tears. “How could you, Kyle?”

  Daniel rushed over to the couch to console his wife. “Kyle, why would you tell your mom something like that?” he yelled.

  “Because it’s the truth; she helps people escape these situations,” he desperately said.

  “What situations?” Daniel asked.

  “Ours,” Kyle said simply.

  Mia had asked Kyle in the first letter she sent to him, four years ago, not to tell anyone that she was safe and in contact with him. It took all his strength not to tell his parents. Although he knew there was a person helping from inside the Compound, he just did not know who the person was—no one did.

  “Your sister is no longer with us. You know she died ten years ago!” Daniel seethed through his teeth while he rocked his wife.

  “Dad, she’s alive. She lives in Manhattan.”

  “James said—”

  “I don’t care what James said! Did you see her body?” Kyle yelled.

  “James said that her body was mauled by wild animals that came down from the hills!”

  “And you believed him? Took James at his word that everything that he said was truth from God? James, the man who now orders everyone in the Compound to commit suicide on his say-so? Is his plan for the church falling apart and this is his solution for it? Instead of letting people go free, he’s just going to have us all kill ourselves?” Kyle was angry. “And what about innocent babies? Will their mothers kill them because James tells them to?”

  Angela’s sobs deepened. How cruel was her family for tearing open wounds that had closed. She had already mourned the death of her only daughter. Why were they making her relive it?

  “Mia died!”

  “No, Dad! That’s a lie!” Kyle stormed into his room and pulled out eight letters from his hiding place. He had received two letters a year over the past four years from her. He walked back into the living room and threw the letters on the coffee table. On top of the letters, he threw two current pictures of Mia.

  Angela looked up from her hands, and through her tear-blurred eyes, she saw her daughter, years older than she remembered, waving, with the Brooklyn Bridge in the background.

  In the other picture, Mia was standing with a beautiful blond girl and a Hispanic-looking man near a hotdog
stand. Angela ran her fingertips over her daughter’s smiling face, “She is so beautiful and happy.” She looked over at her husband. “Danny, she’s alive!”

  Daniel took the picture in shaky hands. “Our daughter is alive. James lied to us. That bastard lied to us, Angie!” He embraced his wife as they sat on the couch, crying together.

  “Everything was a lie?!” Angie cried.

  Kyle watched as his parents began to unravel years of brainwashing. For the first time in years, they were seeing past the Compound walls, past the lies and deceitfulness that they were told from the one man they put their faith in—from the one Church they believed would lead them to salvation.

  Daniel picked up a letter from the table and read it aloud. He smiled, laughed, and wiped tears as he read Mia’s stories of the outside world. Then his mouth formed a straight line and his forehead wrinkled. He gripped the letter in his balled fist.

 

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