by L. J. Woods
I’m relaxing on his hand, my heart quickening with the pumping of his fingers.
“Delilah!”
Fuck!
My eyes widen as Penelope starts to approach the booth. That’s not gonna calm me down.
Reaching under the table, I try to swat his hand away. He grips my wrist through the cloth before the sun brightens when his tongue flicks against my clit. His thumb on my clit makes my knees weak, my teeth sinking into my lower lip. Biting hard, my grip tight on the table, I’m trying my fucking hardest to not make any faces. Or sounds.
“Delilah,” Penelope greets again and Gabriel finally stops. But only for a second. “Where’s Gabriel?”
Fucking me with his fingers? Eating me out? Making me want to scream for God?
“I dunno.” A big exhale comes out when I say those words like I’ve been holding my breath for hours. “Maybe by the staaaage?” His fingers hit my wall as his mouth envelopes my nub, sucking hard while his tongue lashes against it.
Her blonde hair shines in the sun as she looks over to the stage. When she looks back at me, her eyes narrow. So do mine as my hands grip harder to the table. Gabriel makes the sunlight sparkle as he pumps, and sucks, and licks his way to making me come right in front of his mom.
“Stay away from him,” she says. “You don’t know what’s good for him.”
“And you do?” I’m able to ask, the anger colliding with the burst of pleasure Gabe gives.
“I’m his mother.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. Mothers actually raise their children. For you, it’s a tiiiitle.” I’m trying to lay into her, but the more I speak, the quicker Gabe is with his fingers. The more pleasure erupts all through me. “Like a C-E-Ohhhh.” My hand slaps on my stomach. “Tummy ache.”
“How dare you!” She wants to yell in my face. I can tell with the way her teeth clench like Gabe’s when he’s mad. But her voice comes out a taught whisper. “You don’t know anything about my family. You need Jesus, Delilah.”
And I’m damn-near seeing him, Gabe sending me to the stars as I reach that peak. “A-fucking-men!!” The words shoot out the minute I reach my peak. Sweet, sweet bliss as my heart pounds against my chest. It’s not until she’s walking away, a scoff as she looks over her shoulder that I realize what I’ve done.
I just came in front of Gabriel’s mom.
When she’s far enough in the distance, my shorts snap into place before I look under the table. There’s nothing that looks better than Gabe with a wet mouth. But he’s not there.
The fuck?
When my head pops up, Mariam’s standing in my face.
“Mariam!” I jump.
She raises a brow but she shakes her head. “I don’t have much time and since I saw you talking to Hazel again, I’m just gonna give you this now.”
I don’t know if I can take any more news. Looking around, Gabe is nowhere in sight and it looks like I’ll have to bear whatever this is on my own.
She looks over her shoulder before she slams her phone on the table. “I’m air-transferring you a video. It’ll explain everything about those girls. Including me.” I don’t have time to ask what that means because the minute my phone vibrates, Mariam gives me a weak smile and walks away.
When I open the message, my breath catches in my throat. Lowering my phone behind the table, I try to keep a natural face as if I’m reading a text but what’s in front of me is far from normal.
“Will you be a good girl for daddy?”
The video looks like the ones with Sammy and Gemma and when Mariam comes into view, or should I say her tits, it’s hard for me to keep looking. That’s when the camera lands on his face, Mariam’s voice behind the camera.
“Who’s my daddy?”
Holy cocks.
Ho-lee fucking shit!
It’s David Godfrey. Gabe’s dad. Pastor Godfrey.
He smirks before he grabs the camera, his face disappearing. “I’m going to treat you like the little devil you are, Mare-bear.”
Ew!
My phone drops to the grass, frozen for a minute before I look around.
I need to find Gabe.
I can’t see him from here. Hazel’s not around either. Neither is Mariam.
So fuck this booth.
Leaving the pamphlets behind, I make my way through the crowds.
Doing a couple of laps around the festival doesn’t bring me any closer to Gabe. Neither does walking along the water.
Where the fuck did everyone go?
After another few laps, I text Nix. If Gabe’s not gonna help me with this, Nix can give me some moral support. It’s Saturday and I’m hoping he’s not too fucked up to make it to Clementine. As I walk through the crowd in front of a stage, their arms raised high, Nix finally texts me back.
Nix: iz Maryam there?
Rolling my eyes, I’m starting to think Nix has a thing for the dean’s daughter. Of course, he’d go for someone way out of his league. Way out of his reach. Not that Nix isn’t a good catch. But Mariam McQueen? He’s kidding himself.
But if that gets him here …
Delilah: yes!!!!
I make a promise not to show him the video. Mariam trusted me with this and it seems like she can’t trust anyone else. I’m not about to break that. I know how it feels.
Nix: c u soon!!!!!! [Gif of Charlie with the Golden Ticket.]
“Oomph!” Looking up from my phone, Adam’s blocking my path in palm-tree shorts.
“Hey there, Delilah,” he smiles, a sway in his step. Lifting his black bucket hat off his head, he rakes his hand through his locks before he replaces it. “Gabe around?”
Looking around again, the place starts to fill out moving into the afternoon. “I really haven’t. Not for a while.” Not since he made me come in front of his devil mother. My eyes land on the Bible in his hand, remembering his words. “But you have something I need.”
He follows my gaze before it hits him. He smiles. “Follow me.”
Adam asks about Hazel as we head to the back end of a stage and I tell him the truth. That I haven’t seen her in a while. In the meantime, I’m wondering if Hazel has a video of her own. Who else has Pastor Godfrey managed to abuse?
And why did he send those videos from Dean McQueen’s office? Why did he send them at all? Has he seen my tits?!
Moving through the backstage crowd, there’s nothing but people with clipboards and headsets hustling about. Their attention is not on these two kids with a Bible in their hand.
Adam looks around before he opens up the hollowed-out book, a flask inside. I grab it. “Thank fuck.” He watches as I take a long swig. Vodka. Smooth vodka.
“You alright?” he asks.
“Nope!” I say, tipping the flask to my mouth again. If I’m dealing with this town’s hidden skeletons, I need some liquid fucking courage. “What am I supposed to do with this?” I’m saying this like he knows what the fuck I’m talking about, but with Gabe wherever the fuck he is, I need to get my thoughts out.
“You’re doing what you’re supposed to do,” Adam says with a chuckle. “But leave some for the rest of us, yeah?”
“Can you help me find Gabe?”
Taking the flask from my hands, he takes a swig of his own, wiping his lips. He nods. “I’m looking for Milo too. Haven’t seen him much since Gemma disappeared.”
My mouth turns dry. I’m hoping she didn’t end up in the forest.
A drunk Adam isn’t as annoying to spend time with as we make yet another lap around the festival. Texting and calling Gabe doesn’t work, neither does shouting his name. In the meantime, Adam talks shit about his dickhead dad and whenever he asks about Hazel, I change the subject.
We find Milo by the entrance an hour later, almost as fucked up as Adam, if not more. We stay by the front in case Gabe comes around, hiding behind Adam and Milo whenever Coach comes by.
A load of festival-goers make their way through the entrance before my eyes land on a Jays hat pushing throug
h the crowd. Nix. When I call to him, he waves to me, his big arm moving back and forth.
“I gotta go.” Slapping the flask to Adam’s chest, I signal for Nix to meet me behind the bathrooms. Knowing him, he has a joint, and I sure as hell need one. “Find me when you find Gabe.”
“This is empty!” Adam calls as I walk away.
Letting out a deep exhale, I push through the crowd, my eyes on Nix. My steps are a little wobbly but with him here, I’ll have some real support in all this.
I’m almost in front of him when a laugh comes from not too far away. A really familiar laugh. One that rumbles my insides.
Whipping my head to the sound, Gabe stands next to his father near a trailer along the festival fence. It’s behind a metal barrier, a few bodyguards in front. He’s whispering something in his dad’s ear and they laugh.
Mother-fucker.
Now I can’t move. And I can’t fucking believe him! The entire time, he’s been with his dad? The very man in question?
The crowd moves around me, my eyes narrowing, my body buzzing. As I watch them laugh again, it’s hard not to wonder if he’s telling his dad the very thing he said he wouldn’t.
“Gabe!” He doesn’t answer, doesn’t even look my way. “Gabriel!”
It’s hard for them not to look suspicious when they’re whispering to each other, both of them looking as smug as they come off.
Nix calls to me, his voice breaking through the crowd, breaking me out of my daze. Still, I can hear the blood rushing to my ears, my hands curling into fists. He’s supposed to have my back. But how’s he supposed to do that if he’s always at the foot of his dad’s throne?
The crowd cheers as a band stops playing at a nearby stage. Then the lightbulb flicks on in my head. Just like he wasn’t there for Elijah, Gabe wasn’t there for me. He ditched me this whole festival like he ditched me this summer. Selfish fucking prick. Pathetic. And I’m fucking pathetic for thinking he’ll ever truly have my back or anyone else’s.
Storming towards the stage, Nix calls to me and while I’m stoked he’s here, there’s something I need to do. If Gabe wants me to handle this shit on my own, I will. The Godfrey family is fucked up. Beyond belief. And it ends here.
Liquid courage ensures I’m not bothered by the number of people below me as I climb up on stage. The more, the better. Ignoring the calls to me from Nix, my eyes stay on the mic, heart thumping in my ears.
“Uh, ma’am you can’t—”
“There’s something I want everyone to hear.” My voice echoes over the mic before I reach for my phone. Finding the video Mariam sent me, I let it play. Loud.
“Will you be a good girl for Daddy?”
“Yes, Pastor Godfrey.”
Moans.
Pants.
“That’s Daddy to you!”
“Daddy Godfrey!”
“Jesus. You’re so fucking tight.”
The crowd erupts in murmurs and chatter, some covering the ears of their kids.
Godfrey’s eyes meet mine, darker than the pits of hell and finally, I have his attention.
Thirty
Gabriel
Delilah Daniels is trying to ruin my life.
Right here. Right now.
And I’m an idiot for thinking she wouldn’t.
She’s staring right at me, mic in her hand.
Was this her plan all along?
The announcer reaches for the mic but Delilah pulls back, turning away. “Pastor Godfrey is a statutory rapist,” she announces, the words ringing over the entire festival.
Jesus Christ. I told her not to say anything but she couldn’t fucking help herself. Delilah is always trouble and this is what I get for giving in to my heart. My cock.
Trouble.
“Hammer!” Dad growls next to me. “What is she doing?”
“I don’t fucking know,” I mutter, taking off towards the stage. I can hear my dad storming behind me and we’re like two angry gods ready to smite the heathen.
“Don’t believe me? Ask one of the four girls I know about it,” she continues. “Oh wait. One’s dead. And no one fucking cares.” She sees me approaching and she smirks. That gets my dad moving quicker, pushing around me to the stairs. She watches as he climbs it like an angry gorilla, shrugging his blazer off along the way. “Ask him yourself!” She points the mic towards him when he gets to the top. “What do you gotta say for yourself? Fucking young girls? People from your church? There has to be something in the Bible against that, right? Or at least cheating on your wife. She’s horrible but at least give her a chance to get out, my dude.”
We can all hear my dad’s growl when he grabs the mic from her hand. I stall, watching Delilah go face-to-face with my dad and he looks as mad as he did before I went to rehab.
“This girl clearly needs some spiritual assistance,” he announces. The murmurs in the crowd don’t sound convinced. He straightens the buttons on his shirt. “You’d really believe the words of a wayward soul over a friend of the Pope? Let’s not pity her, she needs prayer. I’m not surprised the daughter of a prostitute is lashing out at a family event.”
Dee leans into the mic. “Pornstar, actually. And while I fucking hate her, that’s saying a lot more than a pastor with death on his hands.”
Shit. I’m halfway up the steps, not as hard as my dad made it look and I try to push Delilah away from it all. My dad yells into the mic, pulling it away from her.
“How dare you exploit these distraught women at my expense!” Dad yells.
“Dee, what the fuck?” Grabbing her arm, I try to lead her away. There’s a way to deal with this and it’s not this. My dad wins every fucking time. Believe me, I’ve tried. “Let’s go. Now.”
“Suck my dick, Gabriel.” She narrows her eyes, a blur in them. “So much for having my back.”
“Gabriel!” My dad’s voice booms into the mic, sweat showing on his light blue shirt. “Please reassure these fine folks of the father I am.”
Looking down at the crowd, there’s a blend of emotion. Confusion. Anger. An old lady cries towards the back. I try to scan for Hazel and Mariam but they’re likely hiding. As they should, Delilah created a fucking circus.
And shit just got worse.
My eyes land on the scout from the game. She’s standing beside Terry Rice, star NAHL goalie, and fuucking fuck, they’re both looking this way.
Delilah’s not taking this away from me. I won’t stay here to look after my dad’s cult. I need out. And hockey is the only way.
Delilah looks at me, her eyes pleading for me to take her side and I want to. Believe me, I do. But instead, I look her in the eyes for as long as I can. Five long fucking seconds before I stare beyond the crowd.
“Gabe?” My dad calls again, the entire crowd in silence, even the other stages have stopped playing.
God, I wish I was high for this.
Dad pushes the mic closer to my mouth. “Uh, fuck.” The curse echoes over the mic and that doesn’t help. “He’s …” My muscles are tenser than when Adam and I did all that blow at the Youth Convention. I can feel the anticipation from everyone in the audience. Especially Dee. But with all their eyes on me, especially Rice’s I do what I have to. Clearing my throat, I grab the mic. Sorry, Delilah. You fucked this up. Not me. “He’s a good father, a good pastor, and a good man.” Saying this churns my insides, contents of my stomach threatening to spew, but the crowd erupts. Chatter, some cheers and applause. It tells me I can save this. “It’s a lie. So, we can all go back to whatever—”
Dee grabs the mic again, nudging me with her shoulder but my body’s too big for her to make me budge. “A good father?” A tear streams down her cheek before she turns to my Dad. “If you only knew how fucked up Gabe is because of you! Drugs? His addiction? That’s all your fault!” He pulls the mic away and my eyes drop to the scout in the audience, her nose twisted. “So is Sammy’s death!”
“Delilah!” I growl. “Enough!”
“Security!” Dad yells, swi
rling his finger in the air as if he’s rounding them up. The announcer beside us drops his clipboard, shaking his head.
“Oh right!” Delilah still gets a mic somehow, as stubborn as she is defiant. “You do know because you’re the one who sent him to rehab! Not a fucking missionary trip!”
This is when my dad loses it. He grips her by her shoulder leading her off the stage and I shove him aside so I can deal with this myself. She pulls away, the crowd all watching like we’re on an episode of Jerry Springer. Now the scout’s leaving, heading for the exit as Delilah screams and kicks before her Chuck comes flying at my nuts. “Jesus!”
My dad starts chasing Delilah and I try to cut her off like she’s a chicken gone rogue. The entire time, I want to pin her down and calm her the best way I know how. With my cock. The fuck has gotten into her?
“I’m sleeping with Pastor Godfrey!”
No.
We don’t even see Hazel take the stage, or grab the mic until her voice comes over the speaker.
“Hazel!” My dad calls.
When I look into the crowd the scout’s already left, her superstar entourage with her. My mom stands by the entrance, her mouth wide as ever.
“Delilah’s not lying!” Hazel says into the mic. “I have proof and you know it and I’m no longer afraid to say it!”
The crowd erupts again.
This is a fucking mess. One I have the pleasure of cleaning up. When I look at Delilah she’s smiling, like she’s proud of her work, sweat coming off her head. This is exactly what she wants. No matter how hard I try, she was always going to bring me down.
Fuck this. Fuck her. That’s when I grab the mic from Hazel, fighting it from my dad. Then I let the words fly, “Delilah burnt down the bookstore.” I watch that smile turn into a scowl.
I don’t know if we’re even. Don’t know if that makes any of this okay—or worse.
“See?” My dad’s on the mic again, slipping it out my hand while I’m in this staring contest with Dee. “This girl is deranged. Possessed. And she’s attempting to take the rest of these women down with her. Hazel and I are not an item, in fact, she’s dating my son. Isn’t that right, Gabriel?” The fuck? I’m frozen, Hazel’s eyes widening and before I can say anything, he goes on. “Showed me the ring last week. Whatever this is, is just a poor attempt at a bad ex-lover feeling threatened.”