Faith (A Dark Romance Novel) (16 page)

Chapter 21

Tanner

Take God Into Your Life and Let Him Guide You

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the sign outside Emily’s father’s church.
Let God into my life? What a fucking crock of shit
. At least Emily wasn’t harping on the church bullshit to me anymore; that in itself was a miracle.
Praise the Lord, hallelujah!

The church before me was a large stone building. I honestly hadn’t expected it to be massive. I guess I’d been expecting a small little church that would hold maybe a few hundred. The way Emily spoke it seemed like her father was opposed to things on a grand, elaborate scale. Maybe that just applied to his wife and children. I huffed.
Hypocrite.

Curiosity getting the best of me, I proceeded up the stone front steps and quietly slipped in. The main doors led into a foyer with a sign guiding me to the back of the building. The hallway was lined with stained glass windows, sending a kaleidoscope of colours spilling onto the floor. I’ll admit, it was awe-inspiring. The door to the chapel was ajar and, as assumed, the chapel was also massive. It could fit nearly one thousand people and virtually all of the pews were filled.

As I silently entered and lingered towards the back for a moment, I eyed the man on stage, a microphone in his hand, preaching to his parishioners. The parishioners all sat silent, eyes fixated onto him, except for the pastor’s cues for them to say “amen.” Emily’s father was a large man, nearly as tall and broad as me, but not quite. He had the same dark hair and eyes as Emily, eyes which seemed to see everything and everyone in the church.

I glanced around the church for a seat and noticed a pew in the back row with a lone female sitting on it, playing with her mobile phone. My eyes narrowed as I realized who it was; Emily’s little sister. This was too perfect to be true., PRAISE JESUS, must be a miracle. I attempted to keep a grim expression on my face as I silently made my way down the pew and took a seat roughly a foot away from her.

I watched her out of the corner of my eyes. She was texting someone, not hearing a word of what her father was saying. It appeared she didn’t give a shit either. Shifting my focus back to her father, I watched him, not really paying attention to the words but taking note of every movement and expression. Something about her father wasn’t sitting right with me. His daughter was missing and it was as if he didn’t give a rat’s ass. He was putting on a good show for the people, that was for sure. Too good of a show. He paraded back and forth across the stage as if he were a fucking rock star and his audience was eating it up. I could tell after ten minutes that he was cocky and arrogant; he was the kind of man who didn’t expect to be questioned, but obeyed.

I hated him.

Another benefit about being the way that I am is that I have an uncanny ability to read people and sense people who are like me. It might be hard for a normal person to grasp, but it’s as if we can sense our own; the mask we keep on to the general public drops and we see the darkness inside the other person. I knew without a doubt that the almighty Pastor William had a few skeletons in his closet, and was itching to uncover them. Having hundreds of people worshiping him might be enough to sate him, but I didn’t think so.

Confident in my little discovery, I directed my attention towards sweet little sister. Her picture in Emily’s purse hadn’t done her justice. She was a stunning young woman. But she didn’t have Emily’s purity pouring from her.

“Hey there,” I whispered, leaning in to her as if we were two conspirators.

“Huh?” She looked up at me, her nose crinkling up in the same fashion that Emily’s did. Her eyes lowered to the screen of her phone and she shut it off, stuffing it into her purse and looked back up at me, her eyes doing a blatant sweep of me. I hadn’t missed the fact that she was sexting to some guy named Kelvin. I guessed she was the stereotypical preacher’s rebel daughter.

“I said, hey.” I flashed her a smile that I normally reserved for women I was looking to pick up, though I had no interest in taking little jailbait home. I had my hands full with her older sister, who was still as fucking bitter as hell. Not that I blamed her, but I had a plan to fix all that as soon as I got home.

“You don’t look like someone who attends my dad’s sermons.”

“I’m not.”

She rolled her eyes at me, starting to pull her phone back out of her purse, losing interest in me already. “Another reporter?”

“Nope.”

She stuffed her phone back into her purse and gave me another look, catching her lower lip between her teeth, her interest returning, and she slid close to me, our knees touching. “Man of mystery, huh?”

I shrugged, faking interest. “Something like that.”

“I see.”

“But I did hear about your sister.”

“Oh.” I saw a look of disgust crossing her features. It was a flash, but I noticed it. Her face suddenly turned remorseful, tears filling her eyes.

Hmmm, interesting
. “You must miss her.”

She sniffed, leaning her head against my shoulder, swiping at her tears with the backs of her hands and looking up at me through tear-filled lashes. “I do, I really do.”

She’s good. This bitch should win an academy award. What the fuck kind of family did Emily come from?
Emily had said her sister was weak, but had a wild streak running through her – that was why she used to take the lashings on her sister’s behalf – but in my opinion that wasn’t the case at all. Her sister was letting her take the lashes. She was saving her own ass and letting big sis take the fall, and I was betting she didn’t feel the least bit sorry about it either.

“Have you heard any news?”

She shook her head and pulled a tissue from her purse. “Nothing. It’s horrible. What kind of person does that?”

“An evil, twisted person.”

She nodded her agreement.

I diverted my attention to the front of the church, watching her father work the crowd as if he were a god. I bet the fucker actually thought that on some fucked-up level he was. Nice little setup, though, I had to admit. Damn, I was dying to know that man’s skeletons.

Pastor William wrapped up his Sunday sermon and little sister next to me immediately sat up straight and slid a foot away from me on the pew, retaking the persona of obedient pastor’s daughter. A woman I assumed to be Mary, Emily’s mother, stepped up and took her side by her husband. I watched as a stream of people went to him, speaking briefly and stepping aside while the next took their turn. My attention shifted to Emily’s mother. She was pretty, with long auburn hair tied up into a loose bun on top of her head. As she greeted people I saw genuine pain in her eyes and expression; she was alive, but not living. I’d stolen something from her and she was hurting in a way Pastor William and little sister wasn’t – like a person who was capable of grief.

Spotting me with his daughter, Pastor William excused himself from the people crowding them and approached us. There was a friendly smile on his face, but it didn’t carry through to his eyes; his eyes carried suspicion as he sized me up as if I were the snake in his garden.

We stood as he approached and extended his hand to me, his smile growing more sincere, but I knew different. “Hello, I’m Pastor William. I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before. Your first visit with us?”

I returned his smile, with an accompanying nod. “It’s a pleasure to meet you; this is a beautiful church.” Taking his hand, I gave it a shake.

“Thank you. Our family just took over here a few months ago. And you are?”

I didn’t even hesitate. “Lance Winters.” If the man before me was what I thought he was, I had no intention of letting him know my real name. If he were to go looking for
Lance Winters
then he’d have just about as good luck as Flynn has had.

“I see. Unfortunately, our move here hasn’t been the kindest to us. My oldest daughter has been missing for over a month now.”

Placing a look of dismay on my face, I nodded. “I’m so… I’m at a loss to be honest, if there’s anything I can do. I’d heard and felt compelled to come here and offer myself in any way possible.”

The other man stared at me for another moment. “Just keep her in mind.” He reached into his inner jacket pocket and produced a wallet-sized picture of Emily. “This is Emily. If you have any information on her whereabouts, you’ll let me know.” He watched me closely as I scanned the photo.

“Of course.”

Pastor William looked over at his daughter. “Sweetheart, could you fetch your mother for me?”

“Yes, Daddy.” She gave me a final smile and left us.

He put his hand on my shoulder, leaning in to me as if we were two conspirators, his stare locking onto mine. “You know, Mr. Winters, I have faith I’ll find her and I’ll find the man who took her. I may be a man of God, but
no one
takes from me. The man who took my daughter had better watch himself.” His hand tightened on my shoulder. “I will find him.”

The tension between us became nearly suffocating. This had been a bad, bad idea. I’d let my arrogance get the better of me, but I had no reason to believe who and what Emily’s father was. To be fair, I could be wrong. I hadn’t been on my game lately. Perhaps I was beginning to get a hint of conscience, beginning to unlock the part of me I’d happily kept contained, and with it came other unfavorable emotions such as self-doubt. Yes, I could be reading this man entirely wrong, based on prejudices I’d already established due to what Emily had already told me.

“Hello, I don’t recall seeing you here before.” William released my shoulder and straightened, taking a couple of steps back as he slid his arm around his wife’s waist, pulling her tight.

Mary extended her hand to me and I accepted it. “I’m new. I admit, I was drawn to the church because of your missing daughter. It’s a tragedy. You’ve been in my prayers since I heard. I pray for her safe return every night.”

She sniffed, pulling a tissue from her black leather handbag. “Thank you.” Close up, I could see clearly how red and swollen her eyes were. While I was positive she was an attractive woman, at that moment she looked well beyond her years and tired. Shifting my gaze to William and then little sister I saw a vast difference. Neither one of them had lost a blink of sleep, I was sure of that.

“So you live nearby?” little sister asked.

My attention shifted to Rebecca and I smiled. “Not far.”

“Yes, Mr. Winters, I make it a point to spend time with every member of this parish. I’d love to drop by sometime,” her father cut in.

Not going to happen.

“I’m between places at the moment. Otherwise…” I took a step forward and extended my hand. “It’s been good meeting you. I’ll be in touch.”

William hesitated, his jaw clenching as he begrudgingly accepted my extended hand. “Please do that. This is a big parish, but we’re more like a family here. Please come back soon.”

Not bloody likely
. With a nod to the ladies I spun and walked from the church as if the devil himself were nipping at my heels.

Chapter 22

Tanner

“SON OF A BITCH!”

Her screams of anger echoed throughout the house as I entered the front door.

“YOU ROTTEN PIG FUCKER!”

It was amazing how colourful her language had gotten since I’d brought her here, although that comment about me being a pig-fucker was not even close to being accurate. No, wait, that was a lie. I had fucked a pig or two in my day, but the two-legged, sexy, badge-wearing kind. One had actually been investigating a missing girl case, a girl I’d kidnapped personally. Damn that was a rush. Alas, I’m a one-woman man now. Chuckling, I took my time making my way through the house to my bedroom where I’d left her handcuffed to the bedpost.

“Honey, I’m home,” I sing-songed as I entered the bedroom, a grin spreading across my lips. I planned on doing a very thorough investigation of Emily’s father when I had the time, but I needed information from her, information she wouldn’t freely give when in a mood like she was currently. I had to slip back into boyfriend mode so she’d lower her barriers for me.

“I have to pee.”

My eyes scanned her naked body, taking in everything from her dark hair cascading down her back with a lock covering her left eye, to the anger in her dark eyes, to the way her breasts bounced as she rapidly inhaled and exhaled.

And just like that I was as horny as fuck again.

“Where were you?” she demanded.

“Out.” My grin widened as I pulled the keys of her cuffs from my jeans pocket and advanced on her. “Geez, honey, you sound like a nagging wife, you realize that, right? I really didn’t think we were quite there yet, but all right.” Unlocking her cuffs, I stepped back and let her slide from the bed.

“I thought we’d established I’m not going anywhere.” She shot me another glare as she brushed past me and headed for the bathroom, me trailing behind.

“Guess I got a little paranoid after the other night.”

Entering the bathroom, she didn’t reply, but slammed the door in my face. Leaning back against the wall, I crossed my arms across my chest and waited for her.

“Are you serious?” she exclaimed, as she opened the door after doing her business and glared up at me. “Some personal space would be nice, or do you get off from listening to me use the bathroom?”

I plastered my best hurt expression on my face. “Ouch, aren’t we in a mood today? Do I need to go out and buy more tampons?”

She wasn’t amused and she made her way to my closet and pulled it open, searching through my clothes. “I thought that after the whole whipping incident and me not running when I had the chance we’d established a little bit of trust.”

“We did. In fact, I want to even it up with you.” Brushing past her, I closed the closet and turned to her. “I want you naked for this.” Grabbing her hand, I pulled her behind me. “Come with me.” While I’d been giving her leeway in the way she talked to me, I got a thrill from the banter with her and so I’d allow it until it no longer amused me, but the bottom line was that she still knew her place with me. Without protest she allowed me to lead her down the stairs to the lower floor and past her room.

It wasn’t until we entered my small showroom, heading into the direction of the bar, that she dug her heels in and began to wiggle in my grasp. “Please no. Master, no.” She pulled violently, trying to free her hand from mine; if she kept it up she’d tear open her still-healing wounds.

With a sigh, I stopped and turned to her, releasing her hand and grabbing her shoulders. “Stop, Emily, calm down. I’m not going to hurt you, all right?”

She shook her head, fear in her eyes. “I don’t want to.”

“Have I ever lied to you?” She didn’t answer, but quit her protesting. “Then come with me. We’re going to even things up a bit.”

She remained hesitant, but surrendered. “Fine.”

Opening the door to what she not so affectionately referred to as the “torture room” I waited for her to enter and then trailed behind her, leaving the door open, thinking that she might feel more comfortable with a avenue of escape visible, even if it was just an illusion.

“Come over here.” She followed me over to the wall that held the whips. “Pick one.” 

“I don’t want to.” Turning her back to the whips, she refused to even look at them. “I want to go upstairs.”

Grabbing the hem of my shirt, I pulled it up and over my head, throwing it onto the floor, drawing her attention back to me. “You’re going to get your turn. Now chose one.”

A frown formed on her face. “What? My turn? I don’t get it.”

“A whipping for a whipping. Let’s even this up.” I motioned towards the whips. “Now pick one and let’s get this over with.”

“Is this some sort of trick?” She gave me a dubious look then shifted her focus to the whips. I could almost see the wheels turning in her head, attempting to figure out my angle.

“No. This isn’t some trick. Just pick one and let’s get this thing done.”

Giving me another look of doubt, she reached up and grabbed a red and white leather whip. It looked innocent enough, but the red popper at the tip would easily tear through my flesh. Fuck, that was going to hurt, especially if she got the hang of cracking it and put all her strength into it.

“This one.” She gave me a self-satisfied look and unravelled it.

“Do you know how to use it?”

She shook her head. It only took a few minutes of instruction and a half dozen or so attempts before she was wielding it like a pro. She was a natural, lucky me.

“Do I get to cuff you to the pole?”

“Not a chance.” Walking across the room to the pole, I grasped the straps holding the cuffs. “I assure you, I won’t move.”

The whip cracked behind me and I winced despite myself.

~*~*~*~*~

Emily

This wasn’t what I’d expected when he’d dragged me into his torture room, and to be honest, I really didn’t want to do it. He might be able to turn off any type of sympathy he had for other people’s pain, but I couldn’t. Even if it was for someone like him, someone I told myself I hated. How could I take satisfaction in hurting him?

I cracked the whip once more, the clapping sound echoing throughout the room. I had to admit, I did love the feel of it in my hand and the way it flew through the air. But to have it tear through Tanner’s flesh…

“Do it, slave. Do it or we’ll switch places.”

Glaring at his back, I took aim and sent the whip sailing through the air, the tip slapping against his back. His body jerked forward and he grunted softly, but as promised didn’t move. The whip fell to the floor, leaving a red slash across his back.

“That all you got?” he snarled, looking over his shoulder at me. “If you aren’t going to put effort into it, why fucking bother?”

Anger boiled up in me and something broke within me. Fine, I’d give him what he wanted. Bracing myself, using all my strength, I sent the whip sailing through the air, slapping against his back. Pulling back, I sent it sailing a third and fourth time, getting into the motion and taking a sick sense of satisfaction in wielding the whip and hearing his grunts of pain as the whip landed on his shoulder, ass and everywhere in between. Everything that son of a bitch had put me through, all the other women he’d done this to, he deserved it. He deserved every lash.

Rage blinded me. I barely took note of him or what I was doing. I was consumed, basking in the rhythmic sound of the whip sailing through the air and slapping onto flesh in combination with the sound of his grunts each time the whip made contact. It wasn’t until a hand grabbed my wrist, stopping me from sending the whip flying, that I came down from my anger high. Dropping the whip to the floor, my eyes scanned his chest, which was covered with sweat. He grunted as he bent to retrieve the dropped whip and I gasped, bringing my hand to my mouth, my eyes going wide as I stared at his back. It was a bloodied, gnarled mess. Worse than mine – much worse, ten times worse.

“Ohmygod. Oh God.” My hands flew to cover my open mouth, my eyes growing wide in astonishment. Tears sprang to my eyes, not only for him, but for what he’d made me become. For a minute I’d enjoyed it. I’d taken pleasure in hearing his groans. “What am I turning into?” I took a step back from him and then another. It felt as if the walls in the room were closing in on me. I needed out of there. Now. I turned and ran.

~*~*~*~*~

Tanner

Holy mother of fuck, if I managed to get up the stairs without passing out it would be a fucking miracle. My back was burning unlike anything I’d ever felt while blood seeped from the over a dozen long wounds on my back. I know; I silently counted every fucking every last one of them. I’d endured until I couldn’t handle another one before stopping her.

Now she was God knows where, running for her life for all I knew as I used the banister to haul myself up the stairs to the main floor. I hated to admit it, but I needed her. I needed water, painkillers, and for the wounds to be dressed, possibly stitched up – the whip she’d chosen was more intense than the one I’d used. And I needed them now.

I found her in my bedroom, on her knees, praying.

Well, fuck me. I was in pain with my blood dripping down my back and onto the floor, saturating the waistband of my trousers, and she was fucking praying. “Emily, I need your help.”

She froze and slowly turned, her tear-filled eyes meeting mine. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“You unleashed your anger, you got even. That’s all.” I took another step and faltered, grabbing the dresser to keep on my feet. “I whipped you.”

“That doesn’t make what I did right.”

My mouth was growing dry. I badly needed something to drink. I flashed her a no-nonsense look, praying my expression didn’t give away my anxiety and would spur her into action. “Emily, I need your help. I need you to get the first aid box and a glass of water. I need it now. I suspect you’re going to need to put in some stitches.”