by Sosie Frost
More bullshit.
It never ended.
“Then let me prove I’m not the man everyone thinks I am.” I held my arms out. “Once and for all.”
“Won’t work. It’ll just make everyone more disappointed in you,” he said. “When you’re no good to yourself, you’re no good to anyone. Learned that from you.”
“So why don’t you practice what you preach?”
Tidus shook his head. “Saving that for when you kill yourself. It’ll make a great eulogy.”
I lost control, leaping over Tidus with a raised fist. He blocked the first punch, but the second nailed him in the eye. He swore and slammed me backwards, colliding with the fridge. Pots clattered against the walls. Our profanity echoed through the house. I braced for a retaliatory hit.
It never came.
The kitchen door burst open. A punishing blast of cold, wind, and snow swirled into the kitchen. With a yell, Julian, Marius, and Quint dropped their shovels on the porch and raced inside to block the coming attack.
Didn’t sate the anger.
The frustration.
The misery.
At least now I had more people to hit. More family to disappoint.
Tidus was right. It’d started to feel good.
Julian shouted as he dove over me. Stupid thing to do with his back, but he slammed me into a chair with Marius’s help. Quint prepared to tackle Tidus, but my brother simply laughed as he touched the swelling puff under his eye.
“Nice hit,” Tidus snickered.
Quint shoved him into the chair. “The hell are you doing, hitting a preacher?”
Tidus pointed at me. “Say the line, V. Say it.”
I gritted my teeth. “I’m not a preacher.”
Tidus shrugged. “See? I’m not going to Hell. I’m only knocking sense into an idiot.”
Julian peeked into the hall, swore, and pointed at both of us. “I swear to God, if you wake up Max, you’re both sleeping outside.”
Marius admired the fight, but he mourned the beer more. “Trust us. Hell just froze over in Butterpond. You don’t want to be out there.”
Julian checked his watch. “Don’t you have to be at the pageant?”
Tidus answered for me. “Nope. Doesn’t care. See, he’s not the preacher anymore. Doesn’t want anything to do with the church, the people in it…” He winked. “God.”
I frowned. “That so wrong?”
“You don’t want to play minister anymore?” Tidus asked. “Fine. But when the hell are you going to start being happy?”
That was the funniest thing he’d said in years. “Starting to think there’s no such thing as happiness. All we can do is survive.”
Marius smirked. “Where have I heard that before?”
I met his gaze. “This is different, Marius.”
“Bullshit. You had a way to get happy. You lost her.”
Julian agreed. “Sex is one way to stay happy.”
Disgust rolled through me. “What is with you guys and getting fucked? Never understood this obsession with it.”
Quint grinned. “Makes more sense when you’re having it.”
Tidus got his kicks by making everyone as miserable as him. “Hard to be all high and mighty when you’re getting down and dirty with a stripper, huh, V?”
Julian caught me before I flipped the table. “Do not talk about Glory that way.”
“Jesus Christ,” Julian said. “Someone has to bring her up. If you were lucky enough to be hitting that, why the fuck would you let her go?”
Because it was worse to let her stay. “She was a mistake.”
“More of a mistake to break it off,” Quint said.
Like any of them understood what a woman like Glory could do to a man. The promises she made, the pleasures she’d perfected.
The hope she’d offered.
“It’s not about sex,” I said.
“Then why did you date a stripper?” Marius laughed. “Don’t tell me you’re that fucking naïve.”
I was a minister, not stupid. “I met her seven months ago.”
My brothers stared at me, dumbfounded.
Was I really that good at hiding my sins? The thought offered me no comfort.
I sighed. “We met in Ironfield. I bought her a drink. We talked for a while. Hit it off. We’ve met in secret since then, but I had no idea she’d be in Butterpond.”
This impressed Quint. Was I a bigger man-whore than my brother now?
“So, you’ve been banging a stripper for seven months?” Quint asked.
I swallowed. “It was more than sex.”
He whistled. “Jesus, V. A night with her would’ve been…”
Miraculous?
Life-altering?
My only absolution?
I lowered my voice. “I met her seven months ago…on the night I was going to kill myself.”
The smiles faded. My brothers stilled.
It was the first time I’d honestly broached the subject.
And just like I expected…it terrified them.
All except Julian. He stared at me with a gaze so reminiscent of Mom my brothers looked away.
His words pierced through me. “Why didn’t you do it?”
I’d asked myself the same question month after month.
Marius looked away, shamed by his own past and the mistakes he’d almost made before Gretchen saved his life. Tidus took a soulless sip from his beer. But it was Quint who looked most distressed.
Poor kid. He was the youngest of all of us. Still a boy when Mom died and everything went to Hell. Wasn’t fair of us to put him through this bullshit. Probably why he didn’t come to us with his troubles and instead found peace in the bed of every woman in town.
Julian didn’t let the question drop. “You keep threatening it, walking around this house like you’ve already dug your own grave. The tornado stole that little girl, but it didn’t take your balls. So do it.”
I had no answer.
No good answer.
“I was waiting for a sign,” I said. “Something to keep me here or to…”
Tidus frowned. “Well, you got your sign. It was Glory.”
“She wasn’t a sign. She was a distraction.” And the heartache blinded me once more. “I thought she’d been sent to me. Instead she twisted me up. Made it worse.”
Quint didn’t believe me. “She made you happy. Why the hell are you blaming her for all your problems?”
Because they didn’t know. Couldn’t understand it.
I’d never asked them to understand it.
But I’d never bothered to explain it either.
I stared at the table. “She wanted me to change.”
“We all do,” Julian said.
“Then you’re as bad as she is.” My words hardened. “You’re asking for a miracle. This is who I am. This is who I’ve become.”
“So, who is this new Varius Payne?” Julian asked. “Introduce us, V. Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m not a minister.”
“Fine.”
“I’m not going back to preaching.”
Tidus snorted. “You can try.”
The words hung in my throat. “And I’m never going to regain my faith. I’ve just become…numb. And that’s how it will stay.”
Julian didn’t bother being polite. He stole a swig of Tidus’s beer and laughed. “I got news for you. You’re more emotional, more fucked up than you’ve ever been. You can try to stay numb, but you’ve got no idea how bad it can get.”
“I’ve hit the lowest of the low, Jules,” I said. “I know what to expect.”
Tidus stood, kicking his chair away. “Jesus, V. You think you’ve hit bottom? You’re not anywhere close. Just wait. Wait until you have nothing. No job. No woman. No community of little old ladies delivering you casseroles every damned day. You haven’t hit bottom until I come down those cellar steps and find you hanging from a belt.”
Quint groaned. “Stop it, Tidus. Shit.”
> I gritted my teeth. “I’m not going to kill myself.”
“Why the hell not?” Tidus pointed above. “Fuck your signs. What are you afraid of? Don’t know what you’re gonna find on the other side?”
No point in lying. “You’re right. I have no idea what will happen when I come face-to-face with the merciful creator who killed that little girl.”
Marius stayed quiet. “V, I’ve been on that other side…before the combat medics brought me back. Hate to tell you, but there ain’t anything waiting for us.”
I wanted to believe him. Hell, I’d prayed for him to be right. Night after night, day after day. I prayed for an end to the ridiculousness of faith and belief, but it never actually faded.
I knew what inevitably waited for me.
Marius was wrong. Even after the storm, the funerals, the depression, I knew he was wrong.
“I know what I’ll find,” I said. “And it scares the ever-loving Hell out of me.”
“Why?” Julian shrugged. “You’re the religious one in the family, V. You’ve always been the one who understood the world more than any of us.”
“But I don’t understand this,” I said. “There’s no comprehending what happens on Earth when Hell appears in this lifetime.”
Quint frowned. He crossed his arms, uncrossed them, and nervously paced the room. Couldn’t blame him. None of us liked these heart-to-hearts. Even less after Mom had passed.
“Isn’t that the point?” Quint asked. “What bad shit happens to good people? Mom died young. Dad followed her. Jules broke his back and lost a multi-million-dollar football contract. Marius got his leg blown off. The farm’s in debt.” He shrugged. “Christ, just take a look at what’s happened to Tidus.”
Tidus finished the beer with a grunt. “I got a good reason for being the way I am, but none of you are ready for it.”
Quint ignored him. “You taught us about this life and the next—and how to survive both of ‘em. You said we had to bind together with family, friends, loved ones. All that bullshit. The only certainty in this world was the support of our family and community.”
Jules agreed. “Didn’t you always say to look for the compassion and hope in any bad situation? Even if you can’t find God in the misery, you can find hope.”
“And when there is no hope?” I asked.
Tidus arched an eyebrow. “Well, it sure as hell wasn’t the devil sending that piece of ass to Butterpond. Glory is nearly six-feet of D-cup hope.”
Julian silenced him with a scowl. “Why don’t you admit the real problem, V. You know it. I know it.”
“What?”
“You never lost your faith. You only wanted to lose it. And now you’ve been so blinded you can’t see the truth when it’s in front of you.”
“What truth?”
Julian held my stare. “You keep thinking Glory was the sign sent to you.” He pointed at me. “Ever stop to think that maybe you were sent to her?”
For the first time in two years, I prayed.
Harder than I’d ever prayed before.
I prayed he wasn’t right.
“I…” My words faded. “That can’t be it.”
Tidus cracked open another beer. “Makes sense to me. That beautiful woman is stripping to support her baby.”
Julian agreed. “A beautiful little girl, same age as the one lost in the tornado.”
“And she’s got some asshole, abusive ex-boyfriend stalking her,” Marius said.
Quint nodded. “Yeah. Why else would she agree to move into the parish house? Glory’s tough as nails, she’d never accept help from anyone unless…” His smile disappeared. “Unless she was really in trouble.”
Julian grabbed a water from the fridge and passed it to me. My throat had closed. Couldn’t have drank it if I wanted.
He didn’t push, just kept his voice low. “Ever stop to think that all this terrible shit happened in Butterpond because it was meant to push you to her? To make you leave the church, question your faith, force you to that very edge just so you’d find that hope when she appeared before you?” He hesitated. “Maybe she’s not your reason to keep living—maybe you’re the only one who can save her?”
Christ.
I rubbed my face. The rage and despair melted away.
But the grief remained.
No.
The regret.
What had I done for Glory? Nothing good. Nothing protective.
I’d seduced her, misled her, and then broken her heart.
But I had removed her from the stage. I’d given her a haven far from Andre, and I’d been there twice when he attempted his revenge.
I’d introduced her to a life outside of the sleaze and corruption of the club and offered her friendships within the congregation.
I’d kept her safe.
I’d kept Lulu safe.
I didn’t want to realize the truth. Didn’t want to confront the mistake I’d made and the life I’d shattered. I rose from the table, cursing the bile rising in my throat.
“What am I supposed to do?” The question wasn’t meant for my brothers. “Why am I the one meant to save her when I couldn’t save the little girl or her family or the congregation from that pain?”
Tidus shrugged. “Because you’re the only one who can.”
“And I’m supposed to…” My words broke. “Go back? Just like that?”
Marius’s prosthetic leg banged against the table. “Look, V. No one is saying you just flip a switch and all that shit goes away. It won’t. You know it. I know it. Nothing will ever change what’s happened up here.” He tapped his temple. “Because whatever scrambled in there will fuck with you the rest of your life.”
It was the first time anyone ever said it.
The first time anything had ever made sense about those memories.
Marius offered me the only comfort he could—experience. “But you gotta realize, if you want to get better, it won’t happen overnight. You might never fully heal, but it’s better than this.”
Quint smirked. “Isn’t that the biggest lesson of all? Recognize the sin, accept the Savior?” He shrugged. “Maybe that’s why you and Glory got together.”
“But she doesn’t see the man I am,” I said.
Julian frowned. “No. She sees a better you. Is that really so bad?”
I sat silent, head pounding, heart breaking.
What did I have to do to become the man Glory wanted?
And how quickly could I become the man she needed?
My phone rang. Probably the church wondering where I was for makeup and sound checks.
Wasn’t the first call I’d answered from the church.
Realized now it wouldn’t be the last.
Sheriff Samson greeted me with a bellowing ho, ho, ho. “Merry Christmas, V!”
I wasn’t in the mood. “What is it, Sheriff?”
“Church is looking for you, son.”
The church. The congregation. God.
Hell, I was still searching for myself.
“Yeah, sorry.” I checked my watch. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Excellent,” he said. “Oh. Tell Glory to forget about the angel for the tree. The weather’s getting too rough for a trip to Ironfield. We can make a star out of aluminum foil.”
I frowned. “Wait…what angel?”
“Quint pirouetted into the tree and knocked the angel off the top. Broke her wings off.”
Quint mouthed an apology to me. “Nutcracker’s a bitch, man.”
I ignored him. “What about Glory?”
“I thought she was with you?”
If only. “No, she’s not at the farm.”
“Oh. Well…I’m sure it isn’t her.”
I didn’t like the heaviness in his tone. “What isn’t her?”
Samson cleared his throat and dropped the Santa voice. “V, Glory said she was heading out before the storm hit to buy an angel. When she didn’t come back…we thought she was with you.”
&nb
sp; My blood chilled as the wind howled harder. I stared out the kitchen window.
The storm was a curtain of pure white.
“She’s not here, Sherriff.”
He swore, silencing the cast and crew singing around him. “Varius…I think you better get down here, son. And bring your brothers.”
“Why?”
“Because I just got a call five minutes ago. Someone’s gonna need to take my place tonight. This blizzard is gonna wreak havoc on the area, and we’re got a couple accidents on the highway.”
“What accidents?”
“The most recent one phoned in…” Samson hesitated. “A woman and her baby girl out on Highway Eleven. Said they’d gone off the road.”
The air froze in my lungs, but the rage boiled it away. I blinked. The whiteness remained, shaded only by the blinding red haunting my vision.
He couldn’t do this to me again.
Couldn’t take them away.
Couldn’t hurt any more innocents.
“Where is she?” I raced to the door, grabbing a coat. Wasn’t mine. Didn’t matter. “Where was the accident?”
“Son, the highways are closed. Don’t get any ideas.”
“God damn it, Sherriff. Tell me where she is!”
“Only ten miles out of Butterpond, north on Eleven. But you can’t get out there. This snow is going to blanket the area—”
I hung up and pointed at Marius. “Think you can play Santa again?”
Marius shrugged. “It’ll get me some votes.”
“Get to the church with Quint. Tell them I’m coming once I find Glory.”
“What the hell is going on?” Julian asked.
“Sherriff Samson says a woman is trapped in the storm with her baby.”
“And you think it’s Glory?”
I didn’t think.
I knew.
“Call it faith.” I threw open the door and raced into the wind and cold. “I’m not losing another baby to a storm.”
18
Varius
Snow was silent.
The cabin of the truck roared, and the chains grinded against the hard-packed slush. The winds howled. The truck groaned. Tree limbs cracked under the heavy ice.
But snow?
Snow was silent.
I didn’t understand it. The tornado had been nothing but sound. The rain had pelted, the hail destroyed, and the glass shattered. The very timbers of the church screamed as they ripped apart.
