Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [377]
“All it takes is one person,” Father continued, “to betray us, to destroy us.”
Justin couldn’t believe it. Father wasn’t even looking at Martin. Surely, he’d call it off any second now. Wasn’t this enough of a test? The old man’s eyes started to roll back in his head, his tongue hung from his mouth. His head would explode. It was going to fucking explode all over the place.
“We must remember…” Father stopped and looked down at the puddle forming around his shoes. Martin had peed his pants. Father lifted one foot, his face contorting with disgust. He waved to his guards. “Remove the snake,” he said, as if only because he didn’t want his shoes soiled any more than they already were.
It took both guards and Aaron to pull off and unwrap the snake. Martin collapsed where he stood. But Father continued as though this had only been a minor distraction, stepping over Martin’s body and turning his back to him as the old man crawled away.
“We must remember there are no loyalties, no bonds except for the greater good of our mission. We must free ourselves from petty desires of the material world.”
Father seemed to be addressing a specific group, especially one woman, who sat in front. Justin recognized her. She was one of the entourage that the reverend kept close at prayer rallies, one of the group of about a dozen members that was bused in for the meetings. They all still lived and worked on the outside and had not yet entirely joined the community. Alice had explained that these were people with important ties to the outside, or ones who had not yet fully proved themselves to Father.
As the meeting ended, Justin watched Father go to the woman, giving her both his hands to help her stand and hugging her. Probably feeling her up and getting in a few extra squeezes. Justin couldn’t help thinking she looked like one of his mom’s country club friends, wearing a navy dress and that bright red scarf.
CHAPTER 29
It was at this time every evening that Kathleen O’Dell still craved a tumbler of bourbon, a stirred—not shaken—martini or even a snifter of brandy. She stared at the tray with the porcelain gold-trimmed pot and watched as Reverend Everett poured a cup of hot tea for her, Emily, Stephen and himself. All the while, she couldn’t help thinking how much she hated tea. It didn’t matter if it was herbal, spice or served with lemon or honey or milk. Just the aroma made her want to gag.
The tea reminded her of those first weeks from hell when she quit drinking. Father had stopped by her apartment several times a week, generously giving of his precious time to brew for her a pot of his special tea made from leaves shipped from some exotic place in South America. He claimed it had magical powers. Kathleen swore it made her hallucinate, causing painful flashes of bright light behind her eyes. That was before it made her stomach rock violently. Each time, Father stood patiently over her, telling her how God had different plans for her, or more precisely, telling the back of her head while she vomited her guts into the toilet.
Now she smiled up at him as he handed her a cup, pretending this was exactly what she craved. She owed this man so much, and yet he seemed to ask for so little in return. Pretending to enjoy his tea seemed a small sacrifice.
They all sat in front of the roaring fireplace in the soft leather chairs Father had received from a wealthy donor. Everyone sipped the tea, and Kathleen put the cup to her lips, making herself do the same. There had been little conversation. They were still a bit stunned from Father’s powerful performance. No one doubted the need for Martin to be taught a lesson. How dare he fall asleep.
She could feel Father watching the three of them, his diplomats to the outside world, as he called them. Each played an important role, assigned tasks that