by Angel Lawson
Sleepovers were rare, and despite popular gossip, I didn’t fuck all the guys at once and we definitely didn’t have orgies. For god’s sake, we’re eighteen and I’d just lost my virginity six months before. Sure, I was more comfortable with myself now, but four guys at once? Nope. Not happening. What people didn’t get was that my relationship with all the guys was an individual one as well as a group. What happened in one bedroom wasn’t discussed together. And the truth was that even though I was really close with each of them, I hadn’t had sex with anyone but Anderson.
That was something I hoped to remedy soon.
Despite the raging hormones and increased tension, we made a rule that when we’re all together it was nothing more than a hangout. With snuggling. And usually a shit-ton of food because my boys eat like the world may run out tomorrow.
Jackson met me at the door, taking my bag from my hand.
“Hey babe,” he said, leaning in for a quick kiss. Behind him was the usual set up. Bags of snacks littered across the coffee table, despite the fact they just ate at my house. Hayden and Oliver were involved in an intense video game (I guess. Seriously, I couldn’t keep up.), while Anderson lounged on the couch and scrolled through his phone. He looked up when I entered and winked.
It was a relief to be here with them like this, but also hard since I knew it was probably the last time before we all left for school. Anderson was right. I didn’t like change—not at all—and I felt the shadow of anxiety tickling at the back of my mind.
“You’ve got to see this,” Jackson said, pulling me into the house. I followed him across the living room to Oliver’s bedroom. The bed itself was gone.
“What is this?” I asked, processing the room. The whole floor was covered in pillows and blankets. Er, maybe I’d been wrong about that orgy thing.
Jackson dropped my bag on the floor and slipped his arms around my waist, pulling me close. “Oliver did it. He wanted a way for us to all be close before we head off to school. It’s a big change for all of us. Hayden’ll be in full training for his fall season once he gets there. Anderson’s swim season never ends, and Oliver and I will be in the thick of it with the baseball team.”
I looked over his shoulder and saw the others. Hayden dropped his controller and jumped on Anderson’s back. Oliver shouted for them to stop being so rough, but he barreled toward them, knocking both guys to the ground. I couldn’t help but laugh at their silly horseplay and I didn’t miss the wistful glint in Jackson’s eye.
Change sucked and an intense shudder of anxiety gripped me.
“Heaven,” Anderson said, escaping Hayden’s grip. “Are you okay? Is it what you wanted to talk to us about?”
Their eyes lit up and every one of them focused on me. Here was my chance to let them know I was ready for more with them. I wanted to step outside the box, but all of that seemed stupid in light of my father coming back and the change ahead.
I felt the noose tightening about my neck.
“Is it your dad?” Oliver asked.
They had to know the truth—or some of it. I walked into the middle of the bedding and sat down, gesturing for them to follow.
“I need to tell you something.” My hands shook and Hayden took one in his own to settle me.
Jackson touched my back. “Babe, you can tell us anything.”
No, I couldn’t, but they had to know enough to stay safe. “So, here’s the thing, my dad is…pretty charismatic.”
“He’s a preacher, right?”
“He is, an evangelist and also a crook. When I was ten he was busted for stealing money from the church in Oceanside. He had a drug addiction and a whole heap of bad habits.”
“Holy shit,” Jackson said.
“The church agreed not to press charges if he joined their prison mission team, which involved traveling around the country preaching in prisons and to the less fortunate.”
Hayden’s eyebrows shot up. “Prisons? Like Johnny Cash.”
“Shut up, dude,” Anderson said, smacking him on the arm.
“I wish. No, he’s nothing more than a petty thief and a con-man. He grew up in the oppressively religious town of Oceanside, and since the church covered for him and it appeared as though he left me and my mom, the town assumed we were the sinners. That’s why we moved to Allendale.” I took a deep breath. “I had no idea he was back. I doubt my mom knew either, until he showed up.”
“Wow, that’s pretty intense,” Oliver said. “Why didn’t you tell us about any of this?”
I shook my head, fighting back tears. “Because it’s embarrassing and weird. I grew up with a lot of rules and shame was a common punishment. You guys were so different. So accepting. I didn’t want to drag my past into our relationship.”
Jackson spoke up. “He seemed excited to see you and he’s taken an interest with school and everything. That can’t be bad.”
“My father has a way of manipulating people—things—and situations. He’s very controlling. He believes in one set of rules for the women in his life and a whole other for himself.”
“You’re afraid he’ll find out about us?”
And what he’d do to me or them if he found out.
I nodded. “We can’t let him find out. And you can’t engage him, do you understand? If he shows up asking for a favor or offers you a job of any kind, say no.”
Anderson’s forehead creased. “Heaven, is he dangerous?”
Physically, no. Emotionally…
His green eyes held mine and I had no doubt he understood me. He grabbed my free hand and said, “If you want us to stay clear of him, that’s fine. We can do that. And as much as none of us want to hide our relationship, we’d already decided to take things slow at school. None of us want you to go through the stuff that happened at Allendale.”
“Yep,” Oliver agreed. “We’re just your amazing group of BFFs that, you know, can’t keep our hands off of you.”
“Thank you. I hate dragging you into anything involving him or my family.”
“Babe, you are our family,” Jackson replied.
Hayden leaned over and kissed my ear, sending a chill down my spine that replaced the anxiety with something different—better. We’d get through this like we’ve managed every other obstacle over the past year.
Together.
3
“Is that what you’re going to wear?” my mother asked as I came down the stairs.
I shot her a look, then one down at my dress. It was a summer sundress that hit just below my knees and had criss-cross straps over my back. Zero cleavage. “What’s wrong with this?”
Her outfit didn’t escape me. I had no idea what corner of her closet she pulled it from, but she should have left it there. It was navy blue. The skirt was long and down to her ankles. A heavy cardigan covered her plain top. The outfit was bland, boring, and shapeless.
I touched the railing, feeling the strongest sense of déjà vu I’d ever had.
“Mom. My dress is fine. What are you wearing?”
We stared hard at one another before she said, “I just don’t want to cause any problems.”
“Mom, we fought long and hard to get away from that church. If it were up to me we would not go back today, but I understand you want to go support Dad. I can do that, but I’m not changing who I am.”
She nodded, straightening her top. I could see the panic in her eyes. She didn’t want to go either but my father…damn him, he got under her skin. One week back and he’d wormed his way into our lives, showing up at the house, sitting at our table drinking coffee and reminiscing about old times. Then Friday he asked us to come to the church and support him on his first Sunday back.
I couldn’t believe my mother said yes.
She said yes and it was like the last seven years came crashing down.
Except, I thought, swallowing back, I had a week before leaving Allendale for school. If I worked hard and stayed focused, maybe I’d never have to come back here again.
“Hold
on,” I said, running upstairs. I grabbed a light sweater out of the closet and came back down. My mother saw it and sighed in relief. “I’m not changing for him,” I declared.
“I don’t want you to.” I believed her.
My only real concern was if my father would accept it.
Entering the church was like going back in time. The smell, the sounds, the people. Nothing had changed. The walls were the same wood paneling, and yellowing stained glass blocked out most of the sun. The sanctuary felt stuffy and I irrationally gulped for air before walking in. My father combed the aisles, greeting parishioners as they took their seats on the hard, wooden pews. These people filed in up the center row, dressed in the same dark, drab clothing as my mother. Straight hair. No makeup. Ankle-grazing skirts.
Now I understood my mother’s reaction to my sundress better. I wasn’t one of the sheep. I buttoned the cardigan and noticed the head minister, Preacher Billips, with his white hair and face with hard lines of judgement sitting in the ornate chair by the pulpit.
Daddy walked straight toward us, smile bright on his face. It didn’t travel to his eyes; no, that part of him was assessing, our hair, our clothes, our expressions. Did we meet his standards? Did we represent him properly? I knew I had too much eyeliner under my eyes, too many rings in my ears.
I smoothed the front of my skirt and plastered a nervous smile on my face.
“Hi, Daddy,” I said, wanting to please him. Why? Why did I do it? His judgment ceased and he smiled genuinely.
“Hey, baby girl, you look beautiful. Thank you for coming.” He took my mother’s hand and squeezed it. I felt the oppressive stare of every eye in the church on us.
And then he was gone—speaking to others walking in the door.
It was like nothing had changed. Like he’d never been sent away to repent for his sins. In my mind I’m transformed into a little girl, sitting on the same hard pew, listening as Preacher Billips droned on and on about hellfire and redemption. I didn’t know what it meant then, but now…my skin itched thinking of all the eyes on me.
Did they know about Justin? About me? About the lies and rumors that followed?
I swallowed nervously as the music came to a halt and Preacher Billips came down from his throne and told the story of the prodigal son. He rested his hand on my father’s shoulder and it was clear all was forgiven.
The church had taken him back. He bought his way in by saving souls, and god knows whatever shady scams he implemented along the way. I’d learned a lot in the last year about trusting my instincts, about looking past the exterior to the heart and soul of a person, and everything about my father set me on alert.
“Thank you for the warm welcome,” he said, smiling the preacher and across the sanctuary. “I can’t wait to share my experiences from outside this wonderful community with you all, but most of all I’m grateful to be back home with my family.”
The family he left.
The family this congregation shunned.
I plastered on a brave face, because that was who I was. My father’s eyes connected with my own, and I realized that I learned that skill from him.
“Heaven, it’s wonderful to see you again,” an older woman said as I stood outside the church in the sweltering heat. If only I could take off my sweater. Oh wait. I can. I did.
“Nice to see you, too,” I said to the woman I didn’t recognize. Her eyes skimmed over my bare arms and the faint scars that were still visible. I smiled tightly.
“I see you’re still a spit-fire, like your mother.”
My mother was standing with my father, falling right into the role of minister’s wife. Nausea rolled through my stomach.
“I guess I am.”
The gray-haired lady looked up as my parents approached. She raised her eyebrows at my dad. “Just saying hello to your daughter. I’m hoping things settle down for her now that you’re back home.”
He doesn’t respond to that but his eyes set on me and I squirmed as he sent her on her way.
“I see everyone here is as judgmental as ever,” I said, feeling no shame.
“They mean well,” he replied. “Following God’s will is a challenge, Heaven. Even for the most faithful.”
He was so smug.
“Well, this was great and everything,” I said, “but now that the dog and pony show is over, I really need to get back. Amber and I leave in a few days and I have a bunch of stuff to pack.”
“I’ll go get the car, sweetie,” my mother says, making a break for it. I don’t blame her.
My father grabbed me gently by the elbow. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your housing accommodations at the university.”
“What about them?”
“I took the liberty of contacting the school and learned you’d signed up for co-ed housing?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Well, I changed it to the all-girls dormitory.”
“You—you can’t do that. Amber and I already got our dorm assignment.”
“I’m aware of that,” he said. “But since I’m paying for your education now, I feel like I have the right to some of the decisions being made—and co-ed housing is out.”
“You’re paying for my education?”
I almost laughed. He hadn’t paid for anything since he was gone. Not a dime.
“Yes, since I’ve returned here as associate pastor, Oceanside has offered me a generous salary. I’ve also spoken to your mother. It will be a huge relief to her to have assistance on this.”
I swallowed. My mother had been working hard to cover just the first semester of school and financial aid was taking care of the rest. I’d planned on getting a job for extra expenses. But if Mom didn’t have to pay, then she could stop taking double-shifts. She could rest a little.
“Mom knows about this?” I asked.
“I ran it by her.”
Which means he told her what was happening. This was how he always was. Bossy and controlling.
“I can’t back out on Amber.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to. Your friend should stay in appropriate housing as well. If it makes it better, I secured you a suite in the new Stetson Hall. Comes with a bathroom and a kitchenette.”
I blinked. “Those are impossible to get.”
He shrugged. “Someone owed me a favor. I secured you two a room to share. How does that sound?”
“No extra cost?” I asked. Amber’s parents aren’t broke, but Stetson Hall is the most expensive dorm on campus.
“None.” He smiled, knowing he’d snared me like a hare. “Like I said, someone on campus owed me a favor. It’s all taken care of.”
A favor? I didn’t want to know what kind of business dealings my father had on campus. Just because he was religious didn’t mean he was legit.
My mother drove up to the curb and waved.
“I’ll do this,” I said, “because Mom needs a break. But don’t think you can walk back into my life and change whatever you want.”
He glanced around, making sure no one was listening. “I know you’re angry I’ve been gone.”
“I’m not angry, Daddy. It just is what it is. We’ve moved on. I’m not the same girl you left all those years ago.”
I kept my eyes on my father, knowing he’d just manipulated his way back in my life. I bit back the fear it gave me, the anxiety blossoming in my chest.
“A girl needs her father,” he said, watching me walk to the car. I sat in the front seat and clarity hit me like a bolt of lightning.
My father wasn’t here just for work, to build the church. No, he was back in our lives, and I had the feeling it would be harder than ever to escape him a second time.
4
Two Months Later
After a relatively quiet summer and acclimating to college life, the campus changed drastically with the fall semester. The students returned in droves, the quiet halls turned into echo chambers of laughter, shouts, and roommate squabbles. So far though, college had given
me the taste of personal freedom I’d been looking for. No curfew. No suddenly returning fathers. And no checkered past. Amber and I still got along well (other than a brief fight over who ate the last Oreo—it was Jackson) and our other suitemates seemed…okay.
“So, the guys are headed over to a party at Hayden’s frat house after workouts,” Jackson said, running his nose along the column of my neck. Chills ran down every inch of my body and it took everything in me not to drag him through the common area and back to my room.
The best I managed was fisting my hands in his shirt and croaking, “Yeah?”
“You and Amber are welcome to come.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You know I’m not really a party-goer.”
“You may not like parties, Heav, but parties definitely like you.”
Two girls passed us in the hallway, their eyes skimming Jackson’s lanky frame. My father may have signed me up for an all-female dorm, but men were allowed in before curfew.
I cut my eyes at them in warning and they both looked away.
He noticed and laughed against my neck. “I love it when you’re possessive.”
“Yeah? I’ve had to work quadruple time for the last two months. I’m about to tag you all with a tattoo.”
“Property of Heaven Reeves.” He licked his bottom lip. “I like it. But it seems like it goes against our ‘no public declarations’ agreement.”
Fuck that agreement, I wanted to say, but I stepped back instead. I hated that we had to hide our relationship in an environment where hook-ups and sexual experimentation was the norm. None of them had John Reeves, Oceanside Community Church Associate Minister, as their dad.
My father had been fairly MIA since I’d arrived. Just a few phone calls and texts. He’d moved back down to Oceanside to start his job of saving souls and bilking his congregation. He seemed busy, which was good. Less time for him to keep track of me.