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He touched his finger to her nose. “Well, let’s just hope that this damsel has faced all the distress she’ll have. I want to keep you, not to keep rescuing you over and over. We need a good fortress to keep the enemy out.”
She sighed and lay on her back. “And the drawbridge isn’t working right now, either. Can’t believe the servants haven’t fixed it yet. We’ll have to post extra guards tonight.”
“With extra swords.”
She giggled and reached down to grab his soft dick. “This is the only sword I need.”
“And there’s only one custom-fit sheath.”
She let her smile fade and moved her hand back to his chest to tangle in the curly hairs there. “I know we can do this. We can make this work.”
“Even if I end up killing Jeremy?”
“Yes.”
“What if I can’t stop being a hit man after this?”
“Then, you’ll either keep trying to find a good job or go back to school.”
“What if I don’t want to stop being a hit man after this?”
She circled one of the curls of his hair with her fingertip. “Then, I’ll get used to it. I’ll start praying again and pray every night that you’ll be safe and not get caught and that God would forgive you.”
“You really think He would?”
“Sure,” she said. “He’s supposed to be all good, isn’t He? And who was that guy in the Bible who killed all those Christians?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Paul. That’s it. He forgave Paul. Even made him an apostle or something.”
“I have no idea what that means,” he said.
“It means that God not only forgave him, but used him to do stuff for Him. You never read the Bible or anything?”
“The TV was the only altar my father worshipped. Well, that and the almighty keg.”
“Not sure which is worse. Not having any church or being forced to go every week for your whole life.”
“Anything is better than sitting around waiting for your dad to get drunk enough to hit you. Or do something worse.”
“Worse?”
He nodded. “He didn’t only use his hands. Sometimes it was beer bottles, sometimes the remote control, sometimes his cigarette. Whatever he had on hand. And when he had nothing, the stairs worked pretty well.”
“Jeremy pushed me down the stairs a few times. That’s scary. Just falling like that out of nowhere. He did it when I was pregnant. When I refused to have an abortion.”
“So, he started abusing Opal before she was even born.”
“Yeah, I guess so. I never looked at it that way. But he tried to kill her before she was born. Funny that now he’s the one fighting to get her. I was the one who fought for her from the start. When everyone told me I should get rid of her.”
“That’s because you already loved her,” he said. “Because you’re a good and decent person who had parents good enough to show you love. And who knows, maybe it was all that church stuff, too.”
“Maybe.” She was quiet for a long time, thinking. She considered her own answer, then asked, “Do you believe in God?”
“Never had a reason to, I guess. There was nothing good in my life. Nothing to be thankful for. And if there is a God, He never helped me. I guess there could be. I just don’t know what I did to make Him hate me when I was just a kid.”
“I don’t think it works that way. I think you were just unlucky.”
