The Mission (Clairmont Series Novel Book 2)

by L. J. Wilson

  “Oh, Sebastian, you don’t know him. He clings to the Reverend, looks for his approval at every turn. Why do you think he’s been your main companion? The Reverend knows he’d report the slightest misbehavior. I’d expect the only thing stopping Brother Creek is how to describe what he saw.” Her face reddened and she pressed her palms to her cheeks as if trying to contain her own actions.

  “Maybe,” he said. “Or maybe we can catch him off guard too.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Wait here.” He squeezed her shoulders. “And try not to panic.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  Sebastian plucked his undershirt from the end of the bed and pulled it on. “I’m going to have a man-to-man talk with Brother Creek.”

  “And say what?”

  “I’ll explain later. Just… just trust me. Can you do that?” She hesitated then nodded. She was counting on him. The responsibility felt greater than any he’d ever assumed—for Bim, for refugees, for his father or the Godfathers of the Night. Sebastian couldn’t stop himself from kissing her. It surprised him when she didn’t pull away, instead sinking into the kiss. It was a warm, snotty mix, Sebastian pausing to brush tears from Evie’s face.

  He almost said the hell with it. Why not pack their things and leave Good Hope together? But as the kisses wound down, looking into her fearful expression, Sebastian counted the reasons that couldn’t happen. It was too much too fast, demanding Evie Neal trade an entire life—everything she knew—for a man she’d known a week. And not just any man, but one whose life had a price on it. In all the new turmoil he’d nearly lost sight of the old. Right now she was in trouble—he wouldn’t put her in danger. Sebastian aimed for a confident smile. “Hey, do you happen to have a handy verse about truth?”

  “What?” she said, looking queerly at him. “Why?”

  The first moments alone with Brother Creek mimicked their time together—waves of tentative silence. Sebastian felt it from the second he’d arrived—men who’d wanted to ask questions but found themselves bound to obedience and order, their righteous lives. Right now, Sebastian was betting everything on that mindset. “Why, um… why don’t we jump to the end game, Brother Creek? What do you plan on doing about what you walked in on? Because while I couldn’t give a rat’s ass what you say about me, Evie Neal is, sadly, at your mercy.”

  “As she should be,” he said anxiously. Nolan Creek’s fair skin was white as milk and he continued to blot his face with a handkerchief. He held his glasses in the opposite hand, using them in pointed confrontation. “Perhaps Evie Neal should have considered that before she sunk to such perverse behavior.”

  “Perhaps you should consider knocking next time.”

  “Humor? You’re going to try and make that disgusting spectacle humorous. Why am I even talking to you? We’ll let Reverend Kane deal with this. I’ve observed enough when it comes to you.” He turned, heading down the path that would take him to the center of Good Hope. “I assure you, Mission,” he said over his shoulder, “it’s not difficult to envision you indulging in such shocking behavior.”

  “Interesting point,” Sebastian yelled. “Exactly how many times have you envisioned it?”

  Brother Creek took a few more steps and hesitated. He turned. “I don’t know what you mean. I’ve done nothing but what’s been asked of me.”

  “Maybe. But while you’ve been watching me, I’ve noticed plenty about you—works both ways, Brother…”

  “If you’ve words to say, Mission, speak in something other than innuendo.”

  “Look, it’s nothing to me, and I’m sure you have your reasons for living like you do—maybe a solid wall is better than temptation. Your choice. I get it. Even in 1977—never mind this backward place—that’s a tough hand. It wouldn’t fly in my neighborhood, that’s for damn sure.” Brother Creek drew closer, paying scrupulous attention to Sebastian. “But here’s the thing. While the Fathers of the Right wonder blindly why you don’t marry the Widow Vale, I have a pretty good clue. So does Evie.”

  He folded his arms, a snicker sputtering out of him. But he didn’t dismiss Sebastian. He didn’t move.

  It strengthened Sebastian’s hunch. “‘Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.’ Isn’t that how it works?” he said, quoting the scripture Evie had supplied. “You’re so keen on truth, Brother Creek, go ahead… Go paint a full color picture for the Reverend. But if you do, I’ll do some enlightening of my own. I saw you. It wasn’t Evie’s state of undress that had your eye—it was mine.”

  He gasped as if Sebastian had spat fire, snarled flames. “I don’t know what kind wicked lies you’d be willing to tell to save that wretched girl, but—”

  “Would they be lies, Brother Creek?” Sebastian shrugged, moving closer. “I think that’s the bottom line here. They may be labeled lies. You’re right. It’s not likely that the word of the mission and girl who they’ll call a whore will be taken seriously. But if I’ve figured it out and Evie’s done the same… Well, there has to be doubt among the others. Do you want us to fuel it? Out you onto the streets of Good Hope?”

  “Are you implying…”

  “I’m not implying anything. You’re not into the Widow Vale because that’s not the way you’re wired. It’s your business—unless you do something to make it mine. Think about it. What you saw in there, it’d only be one more secret you have to keep.”

  Brother Creek continued to blot his moist face. While not overly proud of his scheme, Sebastian couldn’t think of another way. Judgment, it seemed, would not come in a yes or no as both men were alerted to Reverend Kane’s voice. He and another man came around the curve of the path. Bolting crossed Sebastian’s mind. His cagey glance moved to the cabin door. Not without her… Sebastian breathed deep, using his considerable height and frame to stand his ground, maybe to shield her.

  “Brother Creek, what is the mission doing outside?”

  There was a pin-drop silence, only the caw of a crow piercing from above. Sebastian stepped forward. The option of knocking his keeper unconscious wasn’t lost on him. It would be a delay.

  “Reverend,” Nolan Creek said, fiddling with his glasses, nearly poking himself in the eye as he tried to put them on. “Brother Neal. I’m surprised to see you here.”

  And bad fell to worse as Sebastian realized the other man was Evie’s father. He blended into the Fathers of the Right like all men. Brother Neal looked complacent and dutiful, dully dressed. But Sebastian also had to admit he saw slivers of Evie. He shoved his hands in his pockets, burdened by emotion—dislike for a man who so blindly followed the Reverend and compassion for Evie. She was probably peeking through a window, doubly mortified by the sight of her father. The walls were thin enough that she could hear the conversation.

  The Reverend’s gaze never left Sebastian. “Gideon and I, we were speaking about moving Evie’s things to a cottage behind my house. It’s where she and Ezra will live—nearby.”

  “We’ll miss her, Evie’s brothers and I,” Gideon said. “But that’s the beauty of our community. She’ll never be more than a few houses away.”

  “Mmm, true,” said the Reverend. “Our houses will be one as Evie becomes part of mine.”

  Sebastian knotted his brow, the statement disturbing and possessive. Reverend Kane zeroed in on Nolan Creek. “My reason for coming here was to put you in charge of moving Evie’s things. Since your aversion to marriage is so clear,” he said, “see to the matter during the ceremony.” Sebastian drew a hopeful breath—the in-passing remark might read like an omen.

  Brother Creek didn’t respond, and Sebastian watched his keeper’s mental tug-o-war.

  The Reverend continued. “But it seems a more pressing matter is at hand. Brother Creek, you haven’t answered me. Why are you defying my order? What is the mission doing outside?”

  “Reverend Kane, you should know…” Sebastian’s hopeful breath deflated, prepared to pounce. “I have to tell you…” />
  “Go on,” he said, striding closer.

  “The reason the mission is outside… It’s because I found…”

  Every muscle in Sebastian tensed. Fuck it… Just take him out, better those consequences than…

  “I defied your order, Reverend, because when I arrived, I realized the mission’s quarters bordered on filth. It hasn’t been properly cleaned since he came to be with us. I knew you were busy with Ezra and Evie’s wedding plans. I took it upon myself to ask a couple of the women to come by and clean.”

  “Did you?” the Reverend said.

  “Forgive me, I did. But I also knew you wouldn’t want women in his presence, so I brought him out here.”

  Evie was quick to back up the explanation. A broom batted against the cabin window, ruffling the curtain. “I see,” the Reverend said, his stare evaluating. “Next time, consult me first, but it seems the mission won’t be with us much longer—not in Good Hope.” The news piqued Sebastian’s attention. “I’ll send Brother Wheaton to take over. When he arrives, come to the meeting hall. I need to speak with you about the mission’s future.”

  “And the mission doesn’t get a seat in that discussion,” Sebastian said.

  “When I’m ready. Until then, reflect on the cleanliness of your surroundings.”

  Sebastian didn’t pursue more questions—not in that moment. He just wanted them gone. That much went his way. The Reverend and Gideon Neal did an about face and retreated toward the center of Good Hope. Sebastian and Brother Creek were left standing in the shadow of a giant elm, the fall sun a fireball. Sebastian squinted and glanced sideways. “Thank you.”

  Nolan Creek turned. “For allowing you to blackmail me?”

  “Right. Sorry. But I couldn’t let you do that to Evie. As much as you don’t want these people to be your judge and jury, I won’t let them be hers. Can you understand that much?”

  He offered a timid nod. “I understand what it is to feel things that God and the world would consider a heinous sin. To be banished to Hell for giving into wicked desires.”

  Sebastian glanced again, wanting to say, “Sorry you have to look at your life that way…” But right now Evie was his sole focus. “Will you let me talk to her—alone?”

  Nolan Creek folded his arms and stared into a waning sun. He nodded again. “I’ll give you five minutes. Not a moment longer.”

  Sebastian didn’t waste a second, darting back inside. Evie stood by the fire, the broom in one hand, bracing her other arm against the mantel. “Are you all right?”

  Her harried gaze cut to his. “Evie…”

  He came across the room and took the broom from her grip, tossing it aside. She fell into Sebastian’s embrace. “It’s okay. He didn’t give anything away.”

  “How?” she said.

  “Brother Creek has his own secrets—he’d like to keep it that way.” She nodded slightly, gazing past his shoulder. She was still shaken, but there was no time to ease her past it. “Evie, listen,” Sebastian said. “Time is not on our side. I…” Holding onto her shoulders, he gave her a gentle shake. “Evie.” Her doe-eyed stare traveled back to his. “Tell me you’ll call off this ridiculous wedding. Tell me—whatever this impossible thing is between us—that it’s enough to stop you from marrying Ezra. For me… But mostly for you.”

  “I…I wouldn’t know where to begin.” She blinked, finally engaged in the moment. “How could I do such a thing? I’m not talking about the Fathers of the Right, or blindly doing what they say. But how can I do that to Ezra?” She broke from Sebastian’s hold, dragging herself a few feet away. “He’s been nothing but kind and caring for…” She turned. “For forever. I’ll be the first to admit Ezra deserves better than me, but I don’t know that it’s kinder to break his heart.”

  “Evie, trust me. Break his heart.” The look on her face said the remark was as callous as it had sounded. “Not exactly how I meant that to come out.” He glanced toward the door, picturing Nolan Creek counting off the minutes. “Answer the question, Evie. The one you’ve been avoiding since I asked it at your house. Do you love him?”

  Her answer surprised him. “I don’t not love Ezra.”

  He didn’t say anything but turned toward the fireplace, pressing his hands into the mantel. For a second Sebastian thought about putting his fist through it. He felt like a fool. Whatever feelings had rolled in, wild and unexpected, it wasn’t any more than that. Not for her. Sebastian was no more than a glimpse at a world she’d forever disavow. But a moment later, her hand touched his back—feathery light. While the fire danced in front of him, it didn’t compare to the warmth she generated. Her touch widened as Evie’s hand became her whole body, clinging to him, her arms claiming his chest. Sebastian covered her hand with his, squeezing, all of him bracing for good-bye.

  Her thoughts sounded whispery but sure. “What I feel for Ezra, it shouldn’t be questioned. It’s the way a bride should feel on the eve of her wedding because what I feel for him is real and comfortable and warm. It’s like a placid pond with a lovely view.” He bowed his head deeper and dropped his hand from hers. “It’s true. Ezra and I, we should go on from here and live an equally lovely life. It’s what I’ve believed since I was old enough to be taught things. And it would happen just that way if…” she said, her embrace tightening, “if I hadn’t lived the past week. But I have, Bash.”

  He straightened his spine, turning. He had to touch her, fingertips fluttering over her cheek. Evie cupped her hand over his. “As much as honor and good sense tell me to reject you, I can’t. I don’t know how something grows so strong in only days. Not compared to something that’s been nurtured and planned for years. But what I feel for Ezra…it’s nothing like what I feel for you.” She pulled in a tremulous breath. “So when I leave here… Yes. It will be to tell Ezra that I can’t marry him.”

  Present Day

  Alec and Julian drove for more than an hour. The buildings of Bogota faded, the scenery growing rural and rough. Modern buildings gave way to shacks, poverty overtaking the cityscape. Before the setting changed completely, Julian pulled the SUV up to a duplex. It was the nicest building they’d seen for miles. “My last property in Libano. I use one of the units myself from time to time. Final stop before heading onto Jess’s last point of contact.”

  “So a bathroom break?” Alec said. “Something like that.”

  Walking through a swirl of dust, the two men made their way to an end unit. An iron gate guarded the door, and Julian turned four separate locks. Alec’s instinct said it was a tossup—indicative of the crime rate or what Julian kept inside? He glanced around: two teenage boys idled about twenty feet away—neither looked friendly. A heavy-set woman hurried along dragging two toddlers and a grocery cart behind her. The air was thick with heat, poverty, and the smell of desperation. Inside the duplex the temperature dropped twenty degrees. Alec thought of Jess and his parents—it was a bad spot on the globe to get stuck without water or protection from the elements.

  “I’m going to change. Do the same if you want,” Julian said, his glance sliding over Alec. “I’ll be ready shortly.” He disappeared into a bedroom and shut the door.

  Alec plucked at the sticky neck of his T-shirt. He’d nearly forgotten the screwdriver thrown at him that morning. He scraped a hand across his jaw. Shave. He wanted to shave. Before heading into the bathroom, Alec helped himself to Julian’s refrigerator and bottled water. He multitasked, getting out his cell, drinking water, and unzipping the duffel bag, searching for jungle-wear, he supposed. The cell signal wasn’t great, but the phone connected. “I’m here.”

  “And where is here?” Aaron said on the other end.

  Alec moved toward the blinds, peeking through slats and barred windows. The boys had moved on from their post as sultry heat lingered in their place. “Far as I can tell, about a hundred miles outside anywhere you’d wanna be. We’re heading toward the coastal area where Jess was, but there’s some nasty terrain between it and us.”

&nbs
p; “Okay start with the ‘we’ and ‘us.’ You mean Jess’s ex, you’re with him.”

  “Yeah. Julian. Can’t really give you the 411—”

  “Because he’s in earshot or because you’re not sure.”

  “Both. How are things there?”

  “Cool… Fine,” Aaron said. “Listen, Alec, I spoke with Jack Preacher. He said he can clear me to come down there. Tossing my parole is just paperwork at this point. What do you say?”

  “I’d say good luck finding me in this fucking hole. Stay put for now, Aar. Let’s not do that to Ruby—not this second anyway.”

  “I hear you. And no matter what she says, I know she appreciates that.”

  “So the honeymoon continues, I take it.”

  “A honeymoon less a marriage—sure. But one thing at a time.

  You know?”

  “Not really. Never aspired to your fate.”

  “Yeah, I get it. More like Pop. Not the marrying kind, even after five kids.”

  Alec didn’t say anything right away. “You still there?”

  “I’m here. Aar, why do we think it was Pop who never wanted a trip to the altar? Do we know that or is it some lame ass, Neanderthal assumption? I mean, we know Pop’s work kept him away. Mom had to be more grounded—what the hell, she had us kids 24/7,” Alec said. “Their non-marriage wasn’t a secret, but they were vague about a reason.”

  “I remember it as more of an excuse, the effect of 70’s communes and free-spirited living.”

  “Yeah. But if you lay it out, nobody was more committed to Mom than Sebastian Clairmont.” Alec glanced out the window again. “Most of the time…”

  “What do you mean ‘most of the time’…?”

  Alec hadn’t even realized he’d said that part out loud. “There were gaps. One time, Pop was gone for longer than usual. I was what… five, maybe six? It was before Honor and Jake came along.”

  Silence crackled through the line. “Well, then we know Pop had to be home at some point,” Aaron said, laughing.