Page 69 of Anchored to the Storm

“Yes, ma’am,” we all sheepishly replied in unison, each sitting back in our chairs.

Not sitting, she pointed a finger at each of us in turn. “I’m. Barely. Breathing through all this heartache and loss. Two of my kids are in the ground! If I lose one more of you, I will stop breathing. I mean it. Do you believe me?”

The pain in her eyes was so evident; I couldn’t help but feel regret for not considering her feelings enough through all this. I whispered, “I believe you.”

That was all it took to break her. She cried to me, “Don’t take a life. Don’t be like that bastard of a man.” She sobbed, “Be the beautiful soul you are.”

At that moment, I decided it was okay to lie if it saved Harmony’s life. I’d make sure she never knew the truth once the pastor was found dead. “Okay. Promise.”

As if she needed to hear that more than her next breath to keep her alive, her legs gave out and she plopped back into her chair. “Thank you.” She took a deep breath, then said, “One more promise. From all of you this time.”

We all looked to her, me ready to lie again.

“If anything ever happens in this house, biker-related or whoever, don’t try to save me or Dale. Get to John—Finn’s room. Pull that mirror over the door. Hide away. Got it?”

We all stared at each other. It felt against our nature to not fight for anyone in this house.

Us not immediately agreeing had her pleading, “How can Dale and I save ourselves when we are distracted by trying to save you?” She waited, adding, “You not hiding away will literally get us killed.”

Sarah gasped.

Harmony nodded, slowly. “Let that sink in. And let us be the adults of this home.”

Rubbing faces, backs of necks, and upset bellies, we each made a promise that we hoped we’d never have to keep.

We all sat in the quiet room that felt so heavy I could barely breathe.

Finally, Dale lifted a finger in the air. “One more question.”

We all groaned.

“Chocolate or vanilla?”

With a forming smile, Harmony slammed her hands on the table. “Yes! I may not have had whiskey in my tea, but I could sure go for some ice cream!”

Damn, I love these parents.

Their actions showed, on the daily, how much they cared for us. I hate that I fucked it all up. I hate that I started sneaking out that very night to start learning the pastor’s routine. But life comes in waves. Some roll up on the shore gently, leaving behind beautiful shells from the sea. Some waves slam into the sand, altering the shoreline altogether. That is what the pastor was to me. A non-relenting wave that kept pounding, knocking me off my feet. His every plea to the public, all in the name of ‘justice’, made my blood boil and sanity slip away. When he stared into the camera, I swore he was staring at me. Taunting me. Daring me to do something about his crime.

So, I accepted his challenge, ignorant of the cult this man was creating. Ignorant of how far his reach went. Unaware of how some religious people can be when led by a perverted madman. The pastor wasn’t only a pedophile. He believed himself to be a prophet and had convinced his disciples it was true.

Religious or not, when someone believes they are righteous, their actions to defend their beliefs can become… deadly. That made both the pastor and me anchored to our horrific storm.

Within a couple of weeks, the media wasn’t covering Blue’s murder as often, but that didn’t stop the pastor’s taunts.

Playing basketball in the driveway, the guys couldn’t believe their eyes when a certain pissed-on Mercedes rolled past our home. It did a U-turn at the end of our street, then slowly drove by again. The pastor was behind the steering wheel and smiling at me.

Oh, do you know I’ve been spying on you?

Had I been older and wiser, I would’ve been able to see the pastor hated me because I had dared to touch what he considered his. I had dared to make Blue fall in love with me. I had dared to convince her she was smart and courageous. That she didn’t deserve to be touched when she didn’t want to be. I had dared to treat Blue with the utmost respect, just as she deserved.

I, without knowing it, had been a part of teaching Blue to say… no.

In the end, that stance got Blue killed. But I knew her angel wings soared with pride for finally understanding her worth. Her lesson to learn in this lifetime had been cemented to her beautiful soul.

Back on earth was a young man who would walk a line that screamed nothing but trouble and revenge.

“It’s not the first time,” Finn informed us outside the gazebo.