gave you their hard-earned money—that the church would be here. Your mama and I gave you money, because Canaan needs a—”
“Give me that!”
Paul lunges and snatches the papers out of papa’s hands before reaching out and plucking the other one’s from mama’s. He furiously stuffs them back into his file folders and snaps them shut.
“Paul!” Papa roars.
“Fuck off!”
My father blinks in shock, and my mother starts to cry. I feel numb, like I’m watching this on TV or something, and I reach over to hold my mother.
“You wanna talk about the wedding? That it?” Paul yells. “Fine! It’s tomorrow, at Gabriel Marsden’s tent. Come if you want, I don’t fucking care anymore.”
With that, he turns, and he marches off the porch and around the side of the house towards his car. I squeeze my mother before I jump up and bolt after him.
“Paul!” I yell, chasing him. “Paul!”
“Don’t,” he hisses, suddenly turning on me in the driveway. “Just don’t, Delilah!”
“Paul, just why are you—”
“Oh go run off to your preacher, Delilah,” he snaps.
I stiffen. “What?”
He rolls his eyes. “You think I’m an idiot like them? As if I didn’t sneak out and go meet up with girls all through high school?” He snorts a cruel laugh. “I know what a walk of shame looks like, Delilah.”
I turn crimson, and I start to stammer. “That’s not—”
“I don’t care,” Paul says flatly with a shrug. “I really, truly don’t care.”
I swallow. “And Gabriel’s really marrying you tomorrow?”
“Yep.” He smirks. “Guess he didn’t mention that, did he?”
I chew at my lip, eyeing my brother. “Are you building a church in Canaan, or aren’t you, Paul.”
He looks away. “Delilah—”
“Answer me!”
He turns back to me, scowling. “No. I’m getting the fuck out of this fucking town, and if you’re smart, you will, too.”
I balk at him. “By ripping people off? By ripping mama and papa off?”
He laughs. “Cast the first fucking stone. Go talk to Preacher Gabriel about ripping people off, he’s more of a pro that I’ll ever be.”
“Paul, that’s not—”
He laughs. “You really want to defend him? C’mon, Delilah. Ask him about Lockton, South Dakota. Ask him about Worthington, Minnesota. Oh, see if he wants to tell you all about what happened in Jessup, West Virginia, that’s a fun one.”
I blink, my pulse racing. “What?”
“Ask him why they ran him out of town on a fucking rail, Delilah,” he snaps. “Maybe it’s because he bled them dry? Or because he fucked the minister’s wife, or the mayor’s daughter.”
My face falls, and he just shakes his head.
“You think Gabriel is just trying to make a buck? Just selling some pseudo-religious bullshit to hillbilly and podunk towns like Canaan?” His eyes narrow. “He’s a parasite, Delilah. And if you’re smart, you’ll stay away. But do what you want, I really don’t care anymore.”
I start to tear up, and I look away. Paul sighs.
“I’m not trying to hurt you, Delilah,” he says quietly. “But if you’re gonna cast me as a sinner, go look at the devil sitting under that tent.”
Chapter Fifteen
Delilah
I push the tears away as I step out of the truck. It’s been hours since Paul ran off, but I can’t stand it any longer. I can’t stand pacing my room, or helping my father calm my mother down. I’ve told myself a thousand times that Paul was just spouting nonsense, and that Gabriel really isn’t involved with any of this. I’ve told myself that the stories Paul eluded to are all made up hearsay and rumors, or just something Paul’s made up himself to be cruel. But hours later, I can’t stand the not knowing anymore, so it’s here I’ve fled to.
My heart is ripping in two as it beats like a drum, and tears streak my cheeks as I race across the field to him. But this time, I’m running to him for a very different reason. This time, I want answers.
“Gabriel!” I yell as I storm into the tent. It’s empty, and I scowl as I march back to his little office area. I whip around the corner, but it too is empty. My eyes land on the tub, and in spite of everything, heat teases through me as I remember what we did here last night.
The scene of the sin, so to speak.
I shiver, raking my teeth over my lip as I run out of the tent and over to the Winnebago. I don’t know, I just yank the door open. But it too is empty.
“Where the hell are you?”