I tried to make myself stop thinking about it. I couldn’t fix it that night…if at all. I finally dropped that train of thought; however, Daphne was still prominently on my mind.
I wondered about her mother. Was she there when her father was hurting her? I tell people who I counsel through the church to “put it in God’s hands.”
Daphne is a devout Catholic. Was her mother as well? Was that what Daphne was seeking through the church…help from God with a life that had to be pure torture? What about her siblings? Did she have siblings? Did her father abuse them as well?
One thing I struggled hard with before taking my vows was giving up the chance to have children someday. I loved kids, and I would have loved to have my own had I chosen a different path in life. I couldn't even wrap my head around wanting to harm any child, much less your own.
It made my stomach feel sick to think about what she must have been through. The terror in her eyes gave it away, and although I didn't know the circumstances, all it took was a look at her face tonight to know it was torture.
That thought made me angry again and that anger made me remember what I did. I knew that I should pray for forgiveness, but I didn't want to be a hypocrite. I’m not sorry for beating that man down — and I’d do it again, in a heartbeat.
I wanted to spend more time with Daphne. I wanted to get her to open up to me and tell me exactly what she’d been through. I knew she didn’t believe it, but it would probably help her so much to talk about it.
I wondered if anyone knew, or if she’s spent her life in silence. That made me even sadder, because when that happens, it’s like you’re completely alone in the world at it hurts that much more.
I wanted to help her and I wanted her to know that as long as I’m nearby, she’ll never be alone.
My life and my brothers’ lives were unbearable before we went to live with Grandma. At the time, child services wanted to put us in counseling. Max and I wanted no part of it, so Grandma didn’t make us go. I never talked about what had happened to us with her, either, but she knew, so sometimes we’d just sit in silence and the two of us would remember together. It was like talking about it with our hearts.
That night, when I looked into Daphne’s eyes and I saw all the pain over her father, I also saw all the feelings that she was having for me. I felt like we were talking to each other with our hearts the way that Grandma and I used to do.
I closed my eyes and said a prayer for her…and then I said one for me…and then I said one for us both and I asked God to give me some kind of sign that it wasn’t
wrong to feel the way I did about her because if this feeling I had was wrong, I was not sure I ever wanted to be right again.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Daphne
I stood in the line today to say hello to Jace after church. It was the least I could do after what he did for me when my father showed up on my doorstep, drunk and dangerous.
I hung back so that I could be last and when it was my turn, I thought I saw a light in his eyes when he looked at me. It made me happy…and guilty at the same time.
“Hello, Daphne,” he said, taking my hand like he would any other parishioner. “How are you?”
“I’m good, thank you. Thank you again for…” I looked around to make sure no one was hanging back. When I saw it was clear, I simply said, “The other night.”
He smiled and everything inside of me liquefied. He’s so gorgeous, even in his cassock and collar. I’m such a demon. “It was no problem. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”
“Well, thank you. I should let you go, I’m sure you have plenty to do today.”
“Actually, I was going to have lunch with my brothers. Would you be interested in joining me? Just as friends, of course.” I wondered if he threw that last part in for me, or him, or us both. Either way, he was right…that was the only way we could do things.
“I’d like that,” I heard myself say. I wasn’t really in control of things where Jace was concerned. My evil body ruled all of those thoughts.
“Great,” he said with another dazzling smile. “Do you mind just waiting for me while I change?”
“No, I’ll be right outside.”
I stood outside of the beautiful old church and asked God again to help me. Am I doing the wrong thing as long as we really are just friends? I cannot control my feelings or my thoughts and I’m sure God will forgive me for those. I can, however, control my actions, and that will have to be the key here.
When Jace came out, he was wearing jeans, a blue t-shirt, and tennis shoes. He looked like that hot guy I met in the bar that night; my heart swelled and pressed up against my ribcage as it pounded. Damn it! Friends, Daphne: that’s it.
We took his car, and on the way, he seemed to be trying to warn me about his brothers. “They’re a lot different from me,” he tried to explain. “Max is the oldest and the more serious one, and Ryan is a 14-year-old in a 25-year-old man’s body. Don’t take anything he says seriously, okay?”
I was a little nervous, but I agreed. We went to a sandwich shop called Pot-Belly in Boston. His brothers were already there, and I knew them as soon as I saw them because the three of them looked so much alike. I also didn’t miss the looks on their faces when they saw me or the glance they gave each other.
“There he is,” the dark-haired one said. “And, he brought a friend.”