Break the Faith (The Breaking Trilogy Book 3)

by M. Mabie

  “That’s good to hear,” I replied, relieved.

  “Do you...” she began and then hesitated.

  I faced her and tucked my arm under my pillow. “Do I what?”

  “Do you like it with me?”

  Was she joking? She was everything I wanted and then some.

  “Myra, I love it. Maybe a little too much. Isn’t that obvious?” The few times we’d been together had been incredible, but I wasn’t winning any awards for stamina. Thankfully, I’d been able to hang on long enough each time to make it good for her, but she wrecked my resolve without even knowing. There was nothing more I’d love to do than spend hours upon hours inside her, worshiping her.

  I prayed for future endurance, but right then everything was so new. There were so many sensations to discover. More Myra to learn and explore.

  It almost cut me how skeptical she looked in the faint light streaming from the living room through the bookshelf. One eyebrow quirked, and her mouth pinched it one side.

  “I mean it. You have nothing to worry about.” I was careful with my words. I wanted to compliment her, bolster her confidence, but it was a tricky conversation and could easily go south if I didn’t tread lightly. “You’re perfect for me. You do everything just right. You’re sexy and beautiful and sensual and I may never get enough of you or tire of looking for new ways to show you how much you please me. How badly I want you. How much you mean to me. Myra, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

  My girl’s smile lit up the cabin. Praise was such a lovely color on her, and I’d be sure to do it as often as possible.

  “If I do something wrong, you’ll tell me?”

  I had to laugh. “There’s no way on Earth you could do anything like that wrong.”

  “You know what I mean. If you want me to do something differently—or I don’t know—if you want something that I might not know about, you’ll tell me?”

  As best I could, I removed all humor from my voice so she knew I took her seriously. “I will tell you.”

  “You won’t avoid it just because it’s uncomfortable?” she asked. Her tone eluded she was going somewhere with her comments, I just didn’t know where.

  “I won’t avoid it.”

  “Good. Because you do that sometimes.” She rolled onto her back and looked up at the ceiling.

  I sat up and looked down at her. “When?”

  “When I first got here, you avoided me. When I stayed at the Griers’ you avoided them at work. And you stayed away from Lancaster for years.”

  “Well, Lancaster is different.”

  “We can’t ignore it anymore though, Abe. Pretending it isn’t there won’t make it go away.” She held the sheet to her chest and sat up beside me. “If we don’t help—to fix it—we’re just as bad as them.” Scooting closer she grabbed my hand. “The longer they’re allowed to do things like they did to the Griers, that poor teacher, me, and God only knows who and what else, the longer more people get hurt. Every day is too many.”

  Again her empathy blew me away. It oozed from her sincere heart.

  11

  Myra

  I couldn’t ignore any of it. Lancaster and what was happening there was at the front of my mind and it wasn’t going anywhere soon. The only time I wasn’t wrought with the wrong doings of my old hometown was when Abe and I were touching, kissing. When we were physical.

  Being with him—in that way—was singular and it stole all my focus. That’s why it was important for me to tell him out loud how important it was for me to help.

  He was a good listener but over the past few days, when we weren’t saying things we needed to, it was because we were distracted by each other. I was hardly in a place to complain, but I had a lot on my mind.

  “I think Robbie and Jenny Carter’s baby is ill,” I admitted.

  However, I didn’t just think. I knew. I’d been around dozens of infants over the past ten or more years and none of them looked like that. Ashy and gray. None of them behaved that way, lethargic and weak. She was sick. “They need help.”

  “Myra, if they don’t want help, we can’t make them take it.”

  He was right, and there was a great possibility that they’d never want it. “But we can continue to offer our friendship. If we do, maybe they’ll trust us.”

  He relaxed back against the headboard after adjusting his pillow. “I wish it shocked me that the Legacies don’t want them to go outside of town for a second opinion, but it doesn’t. They’re evil.”

  Evil.

  I’d been taught about evil all my life, but I’d never felt it. Wrong, maybe. Eccentric and confusing? Sometimes. But even when I lived there, subjected to their strange policies and rules, I had never known how wicked it was.

  I’d trusted them. I’d believed them. I hadn’t known any better.

  I did now, and returning to Lancaster only highlighted more ways the women and children—and some men even—were being abused and manipulated.

  “Ms. Bridgewater was being humiliated for wanting to help her students at the academy.” The whole situation made my stomach ache. The nasty way the Pastor was toying with her and even me. “That check he wrote to me was the exact amount she’d asked for, but she was forced to keep silent about it. He was testing her, Abe.” Propping my cheek on my palm, my elbow perched on my knee, the grossness slithered around my chest.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “He was watching for my reaction. And when the check had the exact amount she’d just told me about in the hall, he knew she’d told. I’m worried he’s going to punish her even more. He’s terrorizing her.”

  And those were just the few things I’d heard and seen with my own eyes.

  Everything inside me told me it was far, far worse.

  “And what about New Mecula? She told me he threatened to send her there. She seemed frightened of that place.”

  I wasn’t capable of conjuring up what a city worse than Lancaster might look like. I didn’t want to know. I didn’t know if I could handle it if I did.

  “Hey.” The warmth in his voice was so welcome and such a stark contrast to the dark images that threatened to emerge in my head. “Baby, we will figure it out.”

  “Matthew is my brother. What if he’s worse than your dad? Who knows what he’s doing there?”

  I wanted to help, but also wanted to run away. I wished that none of it were true and we could just move on with our lives. I was eager for my future with Abe. Excited about learning—although I also complained about it a lot, but I suspected that was part of the experience. It was hard, but that was always one of the reasons it was so worthwhile.

  Who knew? Maybe I’d even want to take more classes in the future, if they appealed to me. My first goal had just been to get a job at Hobby Lobby, but maybe that was just my first big goal.

  It didn’t have to be my only one or my last. There was time for me to decide what I wanted to do.

  The last thing I’d ever choose to spend my time on was messing with Lancaster—a cult—especially when I’d just tasted freedom.

  I got out. We got out. I didn’t want to squander more precious time due to them.

  But I wasn’t a coward, and I had Abe.

  “We’ll find out what’s going on there.” He leaned forward and drew me onto his lap. “Come here. You’re shaking.”

  Ignorance was bliss and knowing was ugly. But regardless of whether or not I was afraid, I had to do something.

  I pressed my head to his chest.

  Just like my goals, I’d start small and figure it out from there.

  One thing was certain, I would start to fight back tomorrow.

  I WOULD SAY I WAS UP bright and early, but the sun wasn’t even over the horizon, and certainly not shining in the valley, at four. So it was early, but not at all bright.

  Abe slept peacefully next to me. Through the night we’d separated, all but our feet at the end of the bed. I was getting used to that foot of his, and even though I liked my quiet m
ornings when he stayed the night downstairs, being away from him didn’t interest me anymore.

  We’d hit another milestone. Another level, both physically and as partners.

  Were we partners? Teammates? A couple? Husband and wife?

  I supposed the labels didn’t matter. I didn’t care what anyone called us.

  I cared about growing with him, and that would require more time.

  Abe time. Us time. But, still, we’d had an agreement about the sleeping situation, and I was no longer into it.

  Call it unfair, but I had tools at my disposal with which I suspected would aid in the renegotiation process. But also, I would be persuasive and direct, which he seemed to appreciate and value.

  Yet as strong, complex, and onion-layered as Abe was, I’d found only a few of his weaknesses here and there.

  The biggest: food.

  Since that night I’d be in class, finding out how over-my-head that week’s lessons were, I’d need to do some early morning baking and upgrade his eggs and toast. I wasn’t too worried he’d argue, but being prepared never hurt. Especially since I wasn’t good at asking for what I wanted all the time, although I was getting better.

  After all, I had some experience with bargaining. Ted had taught me how to make a deal, and I’d apply those teachings to this. I’d make an offer—sweetened just right—and then wait to see if he countered.

  Not to mention, a cup of coffee didn’t sound too bad. I was coming around to that too. After the first bitter swallow, it got better. It was an acquired taste for sure, but I was pushing myself to try all sorts of new things. Not only try them, but really give them a fair shot. I wanted an open mind, but I realized that was a practice and not something that always came effortlessly upon the first try.

  Nevertheless, eggs were easy. So after making a pot of coffee, starting a load of laundry, and making a small grocery list, I fired up the skillet. My timing wasn’t a coincidence. I’d heard him stirring around, and as I moved the melting butter around the hot cast iron, I smiled to myself hearing his telltale morning yawn turn into a full-out roar.

  He was an early morning man but woke up like a bear most days.

  Following his nose, he lumbered into the kitchen, scratching his chest where it was covered with a light smattering of hair. He’d slipped on a pair of sweats and was wiping the sleep from his eyes.

  Abe was ruggedly handsome all day, but in the morning? Wow. Wild hair. His muscles and body on display as he stretched. That deep sleepy voice and his lazy smiles. He made it so easy for me to love him in ways I never imagined possible.

  “Good morning,” he croaked.

  I tossed two eggshells in the trash and then grabbed his “seasoned” cup from beside the sink to fill it up.

  “Good morning,” I replied, passing him the hot mug across the counter.

  He lifted the bag of frozen raspberries off the towel where I’d placed them to thaw, conveniently somewhere I knew he’d see them.

  His eyes lit up, and he took a deep, nose-drawn breath like he already smelled the dessert in the air. It was a pleasure pleasing him like that, and it was fair because he pleased me in so many ways too. It was equal.

  Raspberry Crumble was a small token and not any trouble to make. Besides, I liked it too.

  I went back to his eggs and flipped them. “I thought you might want some of that later.”

  “Aren’t you going to class?” he asked.

  We’d found a routine in the past weeks and making a special dinner or dessert was something we’d typically reserved for weekends.

  “Oh, I’m going to class, but we could use a treat.” I pressed the lever on the toaster down, sinking the bread inside.

  “Well, I’m not going to complain,” he said and took a big drink.

  While I waited for his breakfast to finish, I reached over the counter to refill his cup. He stalled my hand and placed a kiss on my wrist with a, “Thank you.”

  Only recently had he let me take care of him. He was always concerned he was taking advantage. Being like them. What he didn’t realize was my need to care for him was so strong because he never treated me like less than anyone else. He gave me respect, and I wanted to give him everything in return.

  “You’re welcome.”

  I was patient, but after I served him the eggy breakfast sandwich and made myself peanut butter toast, I was ready to put it all out there.

  “Abe, I’d like to have a conversation with you this morning.” I had a lot of things to do that day and crossing this one thing off my list would help me stay focused on my other tasks.

  He chewed and wiped his mouth but didn’t get the crumbs or the yolk that had fallen into his whiskers.

  “Missed it,” I said.

  He shoved his chin forward, accepting the assistance. So I reached over the counter with my paper towel and helped him.

  When it was all gone, he sat back and replied, “Sure. Do you have a topic, or do you want me to pick one?”

  I laughed and pushed the sleeves of the sweatshirt I’d borrowed from him that morning over my elbows. “I have one already.”

  “All right. What’s on my girl’s mind?” He crossed his arms like he often did when he was offering his full attention. So, I mirrored his posture and crossed mine too. His hazel eyes brightened watching me.

  “I’d like to renegotiate our sleeping arrangement.”

  His bottom lip pushed out, and he nodded in thought. “You’d like to adjust our terms?” Adorably, he humored me.

  “Yes, I’m no longer satisfied with our current schedule.”

  He cleared his throat. “Well, we can’t have you unsatisfied—with anything.” He winked, and my stomach tickled on the inside like fizz bubbling in a glass. “What do you suggest?” he asked.

  “I think we should only sleep together from now on.”

  “I would be pretty upset if you slept with anyone else.” If it weren’t for his obvious flirting, I would have been nervous that he’d taken me wrong.

  But to flex my bargaining skills, I held his gaze and fought to keep a smile off my face. It was a challenge, because despite all the ugly things we were faced with, I was happy.

  And so much of it was due to him.

  “I mean the same bed, Abe.”

  “Oh, right. So you’ll be sleeping with me downstairs through the week then?”

  “That is an option, but I was thinking more along the lines of we’d just sleep together up here.”

  He rubbed his beard and then motioned between us as he spoke. “You and me? Upstairs? In the bed? Every night?”

  I leaned over the island and whispered, “Permanently.”

  “Well that sounds quite final.”

  He was going to agree, I saw it in the way his face relaxed. “I do like that room downstairs, but if this is what you want...” He reached over the counter for my hand and then led me around it to where he sat on the stool.

  His touch fascinated me. I loved it. Craved it and welcomed it whenever possible.

  I wedged my hips between his legs and linked my hands together behind his neck. With him sitting and me standing, we were almost eye-to-eye.

  “It is what I want,” I confirmed. I was confident of that.

  “Then I want it too.”

  “Are you sure? Do you think we’re ready?” I asked. Of course it was what I wanted, but there were two of us in the relationship, and hopefully in that bed, so we both had to agree that it was the right thing to do.

  “I’ve been ready. Sleeping without you sucks.” He nuzzled my cheek and then pulled away. “I accept.”

  I pressed my lips to his, kissing him gratefully. I kept it chaste though to prevent him from being late for work. He’d already missed enough on account of me.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “No, thank you.”

  12

  Abe

  It was hard to leave Myra that morning, more than usual.

  The past few days had changed so much for
Myra and me. Like a snow globe, our lives had once again been shaken up, rearranged. That was the nature of change though, and some were easier than others.

  As I pulled into the parking lot at the mill, the changes my friends were enjoying were visible too. The new grandparents sitting on the steps staring at a phone screen, smiles from ear to ear. Chris in front of them laughing.

  Violet. She was the only thing on the planet that made all of them googly-eyed, and I was thrilled for them.

  My tires crunched over the gravel, and Ted and Dori stood as I pulled into my usual spot.

  “Hey there,” I said as I climbed out.

  Ted lifted his ball cap and scratched his head. “Didn’t expect you back for a few more days. Everything go okay?”

  What was okay when it came to Lancaster? That place was just about as backwards as you could get.

  “I suppose so.”

  “How’s Myra?” asked Chris, turning his phone off and slipping it back into his pocket.

  I reached into the cab for my gloves and answered. “I think she’s doing all right. Her dad had been gone—mentally—for a long time. So maybe that made it a bit easier on her.” Although, I doubted it curbed all the grief she felt. It had to have been confusing for her.

  Dori nodded sympathetically and pulled a pack of smokes from Ted’s breast pocket.

  Chris stole them away just as fast. “You told Ash you were quitting.”

  Ted swiped them away from his son-in-law and handed them back to his wife. “We are. It’s the last pack.”

  The Griers were giving up cigarettes? I never thought I’d see the day.

  Dori lit up and then looked at the burning stick between her fingers. “I’m ready to be done, and the pills make them taste like shit anyway.” She handed the smoke to Ted, and he pulled from it.

  Exhaling the tar filled air, he made a face and stuck out his tongue. “Total shit.”

  “Well, good. Then you won’t be missing them,” Chris said and then swatted at my shoulder. “Had a landowner from up around Nelson called yesterday. Said he has a grove of white pine he wants fell, bucked, and milled.”