Jo’s voice broke through Thomas’s thoughts. “Throughout the lifetime you spent with Cassandra, the very short lifetime, you were tested for the sins of greed and envy. Do you feel that you succumbed to those sins or overcame them?”
Thomas swallowed. The women knew everything, so it would do him no good to lie, though he was sure there was no point in continuing. “I am guilty of both sins. It is what ultimately killed me and left Casey a widow. She had to raise our son alone.” His voice wobbled. He had not once set eyes on his namesake.
“How did it kill you? And who were you envious of?” Jo asked.
“My actions killed me, and my brother was the unfortunate victim of my sin.”
“Explain.”
“It was simple jealousy, present from birth. I was the middle child, and my older brother, Nicholas, was the favorite. In life, my father gave Nicholas everything and promised him the entire estate upon death.
“Nicholas was a coward. He did not care for anyone but himself and was never made to do anything that would get his hands dirty. Father would tell me to watch out for him. Me! Even though I was younger. Made me promise, never concerned with my needs or safety. Nicholas was the priority. He needed to be defended at all times, against neighborhood boys that were twice my size and in war. His life was the one that needed preserving. Not mine. I was expendable. After a lifetime of feeling the stabs of my father’s favoritism, I cracked. And it was Cassandra who paid the price.”
He dared a quick look at her, but he was unable to read anything from her stoic face. It saddened him, because she always wore a smile in his memories.
“I wanted Nicholas, for one time in his life, to stop hiding behind men like me. I wanted him to march to the front line and fight bravely, so I dragged him there. After he got hit by enemy fire and was injured, I got caught up in a cannon blast myself.”
Nichole asked, “What of Nicholas’s possessions were you envious of?”
“Our family estate. Nicholas never wanted it except to make a profit. I loved to work the land and wanted to preserve our family’s legacy. My heart was in that soil. He only saw dollar signs, and Father only recognized the value of his firstborn. When I was young, I envied Father’s love for Nicholas. As I grew older, I desired to gain the same respect from Father that he had for my brother.” Thomas cleared his throat. “However, what I wanted more than anything was to secure my child’s future.”
He slammed his fist against his thigh. “But all I did was take my little boy’s father away and leave my wife with no husband. She had already lost so much, and I took away more.” Memories of his last day on the battlefield surfaced, the moments of indecision, the wavering.
“In the end, I sent Nicholas, albeit wounded and barely holding on, to the hospital, and I led my men. I hope someone told my son, told Casey. Maybe, if nothing else, they were proud of me. Can any of you answer a question for me?” He looked around the room, trying to make eye contact with each of the women. “Can you tell me how it turned out for Casey and my son?”
Casey stepped forward. “In good time. You will have a chance for questions of your own. But we must move along now.”
“Regret is a disease that will consume the human soul, but if mistakes are applied as lessons, one will grow instead of shrivel.”
Trial of Tommy Two Guns - Wrath
It was time for him to face the fourth sister. She was the most terrifying because of her angelic appearance. He could feel something lurking beneath the surface, waiting to emerge and pull him under.
“Hello, Tommy,” Nichole whispered as she reached up to caress the side of his face, sweeping her thumb gently across his cheekbone. At the feel of her warm, soft skin against his, he closed his eyes, and the memories flooded his mind.
The first time he laid eyes on her, there was no mistaking the look in her eyes as she stared up at him. Wide with terror, they screamed for help as a man’s hand lay across her lips, squeezing, preventing her from speaking the words she desperately needed to say. She had not needed a voice, though. As soon as their eyes had connected, he had felt something deep in his soul; he could hear her pleas just as clearly as if she had spoken them aloud. Those feelings, as well as the scene before him, had caused intense anger to swell inside him. Seeing that man’s hands on her, roughly forcing her to do things she did not want to, had snapped something Tommy had always kept tight reins on. He may have been a fighter, but ever since the one incident on the farm, he had always had control. He made a point of it, but that night in the alley, he lost it. Had he not heard her whimper of fear as he pounded the flesh of her assailant, Tommy would have killed the man.
The vision of her helpless and terrified was one that had haunted Tommy for many nights after. It fueled his anger, spiked his rage, and had his hands balling into tight fists as he stood before the woman he had grown to love so fiercely.
A look of sympathy flashed in her eyes, as if she could sense exactly what it was he was remembering. He did not want her to feel sorry for him. It was she who needed the sympathy, comfort, and reassurance. Reaching out a hand, he took hers lightly in his own, intent on doing just that, but a throat clearing from his left had them both turning. As they did, Nichole gently pulled her hand away.
Jo leaned forward slightly more than the others with a knowing grin on her face. “We must continue with the judgment.” She reminded them softly. His gaze slid to the other sisters, his past wives, who all sat and watched the exchange just as intently as they had done with each telling previously.
Nichole’s delicate hand, running whisper soft across his shoulder, brought his attention back to her. “I am okay, Tommy, there is no need to comfort me,” she said with a calming smile before nodding her head encouragingly at him. “Now, think of the rest so we may continue.”
Thomas closed his eyes for a moment, trying to rein in his anger once again. As he did, an image of a little boy danced before him.
Frankie.
One of the most amazing kids Tommy had ever met. The boy was full of life, spunk, and determination, reminding Tommy of himself at that age. He had loved being around Frankie, teaching him to fight while making his mother laugh at their antics. The fact that he was not Tommy’s son was not something ever dwelt on. When Tommy fell in love with Nichole, Frankie was one of those reasons. A woman that could raise such an amazing boy, all on her own, was one Tommy planned on keeping.
He remembered the moment he decided he wanted them both to be his. Plans had been quickly made in his head, how she and Frankie would meet his family, where they would live, what life would be like, but then Capone’s men intervened.
Fear, anger, and pain swelled in Thomas again as the memories ripped him apart like fresh knife wounds. Not being able to find Nichole and Frankie after the fight, Frankie missing, the sight of poor Mabel’s body... and then later, the sight of Thomas’s own parents, shot and killed for protecting the woman and child he loved.
The pain was so raw, the anger so intense, he could not stand up against it any longer. Thomas fell to his knees, pulling the shackles tight, and cried.
Nichole was at his side instantly, her hand gently rubbing circles over his back as she murmured soothing words to him. No one interrupted, each of the sisters remained sober and quiet as they allowed him the time he needed to grieve over the pain, suffering, and loss he had encountered.
Once he had calmed, Nichole lifted his face and wiped the tears away. “Are you ready now?” she asked softly.
He nodded, ready to tell his story and plead his case yet again.
Tia leaned forward. “Do you feel you gave in to wrath? If so, under what circumstances?”
With a wry twist of his lips, Thomas answered, “Wrath, it seems, was a companion throughout my life. As a child, I was physically abused by Joseph Turner, the man who owned the farm and employed my family. I hated feeling helpless and vowed to change that. Years of physical labor made my muscles big, and sneaking off to watch fights taught me how to move
. I was seventeen the first time I fought back when Joe hit me. I knocked him out cold and broke his jaw.”
In response to the memory, Thomas rubbed his face. “That was the last straw. I could not stay and work for him, but I would not jeopardize my parents’ livelihood either. Luckily, one of the farmhands, Don, saw me throw that punch. His brother was a boxing manager in Chicago, and Don took me to him that night.”
“And, after that?” Tia asked. “Were there other times?”
“Many.” Thomas barked a laugh full of self-depreciation as he reseated himself. “Nichole witnessed several of my struggles, though the worst she never saw.”
The women waited in silence while Thomas and Nichole exchanged a meaningful expression. The tightening around her eyes was barely visible, but it was there. For her sisters’ benefit, most likely, she said, “Mikey and Jimmy.”
Thomas nodded at her before addressing the other women. “Mikey and Jimmy worked the ticket booth at the arena. We were unaware at the time, but they were also on Capone’s payroll.” His voice shook as he tried to keep from screaming. “Those rats sold out Nichole and Frankie. I almost lost them! Why? So, those two scumbags could make a lousy buck.”
“You told me you left those men alive!” Nichole pointed her finger at him accusingly.
“I did! I swear!” His eyes grew wide. “I beat them up to get them to talk, and yes, I can admit it to you here, I bloodied them more than I needed to, because I was angry and vengeful, but I promise you, I did not kill either of those men.”
“Violence is not an answer to our problems,” Jo said with a frown. “But I can see how your emotional state contributed to your actions. Are there any more instances you need to confess?”
“Yes.” His voice cracked, and Nichole held a glass of water to his dry lips while he took several long drinks. He smiled at her gratefully before continuing. “We formulated a plan to get Frankie back and get away from Capone. I threw my fight…” His voice trailed off and he grew contemplative.
“Yes?” Tia asked, leaning forward with her eyes wide and her eyebrows raised.
“I was just thinking how much my priorities changed. There was a time when winning the boxing championship was everything, but I learned all that mattered was keeping my loved ones safe.”
She smiled. “A good lesson. Please, continue.”
“Unfortunately, it was easier said than done. Don, the same farmhand who helped me escape as a teenager, agreed to take Nichole and Frankie to my parents while I was preoccupied in the ring, and I planned to meet up with them as soon as I could.” He tapped his fingers on his legs while his eyes filled with tears. “I did not know I was being followed by two of Capone’s men. While I went and found Nichole, they killed my parents. And Don—” Thomas’s muscles grew tense as he remembered “—it was Don’s fault. He got greedy and made a bet. If he had left it alone, my parents would not have died.”
“You cannot know that, Tommy.” Nichole chastised.
At the same time, Casey asked, “Is there any way you could have repented for your sin, and did you turn your back on it or take it?”
Staring at his clenched fists, Thomas slowly relaxed his hands until they were resting on his knees. He took a deep breath, lifted his head, and met their inquiring eyes with an earnest expression. “I wanted to kill him. I felt justified in that moment. For a few seconds, I allowed wrath to embrace me like a warm cloak.” His gaze landed on Nichole, and he held his hands out to her.
She stepped forward and took them in her own.
“But, through my haze of pain, I heard an angel’s voice. Nichole helped me remember who I was, and I was not a man who murdered for revenge. I was not a man eaten by anger. I let him go, let wrath go, and we were able to move on with our lives. That was the last time I struggled with that sin.”
Nicole’s smile reached her eyes as she squeezed his hands. “He speaks the truth. We lived a long and happy life together, and even gave Frankie two younger sisters to adore. Our dreams changed when we met, fame and notoriety slipping from our grasp, but our simple life together was more than we ever hoped for.”
“Thank you,” Thomas said. She embraced him and stepped away, rejoining her sisters. He looked at Jo. “May I ask you a question?”
“You may,” she replied, straightening herself.
“What happened to you?”
“You feared that I would be harmed?” she asked sternly.
“I died screaming out for you. The last thing I wanted was for you to pay for what I had done, or failed to do, Josephine. I loved you, even through my selfishness.”
“Exactly what you feared happened, though I will spare you the details. Take the worst thing you can imagine the soldiers who took over the palace doing and increase it tenfold. That is what happened to me.”
Thomas hung his head. An apology would never atone for the horrors she had endured. He had seen the extent to which those men plied their power. The soldiers were high on revenge, and everyone in their paths would have suffered in the extreme.
Josephine stepped back among her sisters where they consoled her. Even the angelic being was affected by the horrors of Jo’s life, the horrors that were entirely his fault. As the women convened, guilt pulled Thomas into a state of despair. He wept openly, each sob violently shaking his body.
“Lead others as you would like to be led.”
The Grove
“Perhaps it is time for a break,” Kelly suggested quietly to her sisters. “Clearly, Thomas needs one.”
The women held hands and surrounded the weeping Thomas. The air stirred, and his vision swam. When his surroundings fell back into focus, he found himself in a small grove. The women leaned him against a sturdy olive tree, and Jo waved a hand to release his shackles. “Do not try and escape, Thomas.”
The thought had not crossed his mind, but he nodded. In the tree’s shade, he was cool and comfortable, and his angst slowly slid away.
Casey waved her hand, and a table appeared, laden with fruits; fragrant baked goods; and a pitcher of lemonade. “Please, join us for a snack.”
They ate in companionable silence, and he remembered why he loved each of the women. They were his partners and his equal in every sense of the word. Although many of his memories were cruel and tormented him, in each life, he could find quiet moments where his heart had filled with love and joy for a particular sister.
As if sensing his thoughts, Jo smiled. “They are not all bad memories, are they?”
“I would say many of them are good.” His eyes met each of theirs in turn. “I loved you each very much in the life I had with you.”
Casey sat on the grass, a bunch of grapes clutched in her hand. As she picked them off and ate them, she talked to him. “Our son grew up proud and strong. After your brother and you were killed, your youngest brother took over the family property. He was good to us, and when he died way too young, he left the property to Tommy. He learned to work the land at the knee of my new husband and grew to think of him as a father.”
Thomas watched the light come into her face as she spoke about her new husband, and curiosity tickled. “Who did you marry? Anyone I knew?”
She nodded. “It was Henry Smith.”
“Our neighbor?”
“Yes. His wife died in childbirth, and we were very much alone on our farms after the passing of your father and brother. Of course, you know how brutal running a homestead can be when there is just one pair of hands to do the work.”
“I do. I remember my father struggling, even with the hired help, until my brother and I were old enough to work. I still wear the guilt of sending Nicholas to his doom. I had hoped, in that last moment, he might survive after all.” Thomas chuffed as his emotions swirled. “I suppose it was too little, too late.”
While he was happy she had moved on and had a full life, he was not enjoying the idea of her with Henry. He was an impressive man with a large holding, and there were not many others around she could have done bett
er with. Having a mild temper, and being a devout churchgoer, he always had the women swooning for him. “Henry was so big he could have pulled the plow.” Thomas chuckled.
“Yes, he could have.” Tilting her head back, she gazed at the branches overhead as though lost in thought. Her voice was soft when she spoke. “We joined the farms, and Thomas had quite the inheritance when we died. Benji left it all to our son.”
“I wish the old man had done more for my family.” A deep sigh escaped. “Did you love Henry?” He felt his face turn red, but he had to know.
“While our partnership was initially a necessity, I did grow to love him.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “But never as much as I loved you.” A rogue tear slipped down her face.
“I am sorry, you know.”
As she brushed her fingertips across her chin, she nodded and turned her head away. “I do.”
Thomas’s heart broke. He hoped Tia had fared as well as Casey. Jo, Nichole, and Kelly were foregone conclusions. A shudder ripped through him as images of the soldiers’ brutality invaded his mind once again. With a shake of his head, he cleared away the thoughts and leaned toward Nichole. “Our life together was such a blessing.”
She smiled and caressed his fingers. “Yes, it was.”
He wished he already had the memories of his life with the fifth sister bestowed upon him. “How many times have you done this?” he asked.
“I have been sent as a guide to at least twenty. My sisters have had more. You are not the first. Nor will you be the last.”
“And have you always been sent to—” he gulped “—men?”
She smiled and chuckled. “No. I have guided men, women, and children. You see, my inherent nature is that of peace. I teach others how to be kind, let go of anger and regret, find forgiveness, and regard one another with love and trust.” Nichole’s eyes glazed over as though she were reliving some memory of a past life.
7: The Seven Deadly Sins Page 20
