Page 65 of Slaughter
For Hope.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Faith
The second I heard Hope’s bedroom door slam shut, I walked down the porch steps while Zeke stood stock-still, his body still radiating with anger. Standing before him, he refused to look at me as I waited, saying nothing.
“I’m sorry, Faith. I didn’t mean it.”
“That’s no excuse and you fucking know it.” My once controlled, level-headed voice now seemed deeper, darker as I clenched my fist and glared at my brother. “How dare you talk to her that way? Of all the sisters, you know damn well Hope is the sensitive one. She takes everything to heart. You destroyed her, Ezekiel. More than anyone could have. She looked up to you. Respected you. Loved you, and you just shit on her.”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do, because what you just said, what you just called her was the worst fucking thing you could have ever done to her. She’s not like us, Ezekiel. She can’t handle the darkness of this world like we can. She sees the good in people. Does that make her naïve? Possibly. But it’s our job to protect her, and calling her a fucking whore is not protecting her!”
Zeke flinched like I’d struck him, his jaw working as he stared at the gravel driveway. His hands were still clenched into fists at his sides, his shoulders rigid with tension that hadn’t dissipated even after the truck ride home.
“I was angry,” he said, his voice low and rough. “I saw them together, Faith. I saw what they were doing, and I just—”
“You just what?” I stepped closer, forcing him to look at me. “You just decided to punish her for being human? For wanting something for herself? For falling in love?”
“Love?” He barked out a bitter laugh. “She doesn’t know what love is. She’s twenty-eight years old, and she’s never—”
“Never what? Never been with a man before Chapman?” I cut him off, my voice sharp as a blade. “She gave herself to him a few weeks ago out at the pond, Zeke. I was the one who bathed her the morning after. I saw the blood.”
Zeke’s face went pale, his eyes widening with shock. “What?”
“You heard me.” I crossed my arms over my chest, holding his gaze. “Hope was a virgin when Chapman took her to that pond. She gave him everything. Her body, her trust, her heart.”
“Jesus Christ.” Zeke ran a hand through his hair, his breathing ragged. “I didn’t—I didn’t know that.”
“Of course you didn’t know. Because you didn’t ask. You didn’t talk to her. You just assumed the worst and threw it in her face in front of all of us.” I could feel tears burning behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not yet. Not when Zeke needed to hear this. “Do you have any idea what you just did to her?”
“I was trying to protect her.”
“By comparing her to Shirley?” My voice rose, echoing across the quiet farmyard. “By calling her a club whore in front of all of us? That’s your idea of protection?”
Zeke’s face crumpled, and for the first time since he’d arrived home, I saw genuine remorse in his eyes. “I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did.” I stepped even closer, close enough to see the guilt etched into every line of his face. “You meant every word, Zeke. You were angry, and you wanted to hurt her, and you knew exactly what would cut the deepest. You knew that comparing her to Shirley would destroy her.”
“Faith—”
“No. You’re going to listen to me now.” I poked him hard in the chest, my finger jabbing against the leather of his cut. “Hope has spent her entire life trying not to be like Mom. Every single choice she’s made—staying home instead of going out, building her business instead of chasing men, keeping herself pure and waiting for something real—all of it was because she was terrified of becoming what Shirley was.”
Zeke’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing.
“She watched Mom go from man to man, club to club, always looking for someone to love her and never finding it. She watched Mom get used and discarded and called names behind her back. And she swore she would never be that woman.” My voice cracked, and I had to pause to steady myself. “And then you—her own brother, someone she trusted more than anyone—you called her the one thing she’s been running from her whole life.”
“I know.” Zeke’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I know, Faith. I fucked up.”
“You did more than fuck up.” I wiped at my eyes, angry at the tears that were finally spilling over. “You broke her, Zeke. You took the one person in this family who still believed in goodness and love and hope, and you shattered her. In front of Charity. In front of Joy. In front of me.”
Zeke turned away, his shoulders shaking. When he spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion. “I saw them together, Faith. I saw her on top of him. He was inside her, and I just—I lost it. All I could think about was the Golden Rule and what Reaper would do to him and what it would mean for the family and—”
“And you took it out on Hope instead of dealing with your own shit.” I grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn back and face me. “Chapman isn’t Malachi, Zeke. He’s a good man and you fucking know it. This isn’t about the club or the rules or anyof that. This is about you being so goddamn terrified of losing control that you lashed out at the one person who didn’t deserve it.”
“She broke the rules.”
