The moment that it all went down, Reed had dropped Krisney like a piece of trash, and all the other brothers had, too.
I could see where they were coming from in all of that, but I knew that Krisney was a good girl. She’d always been at Hennessy’s side, and now that I thought about it, I realized that she had been every single time that Hennessy’s hair had been hacked off.
And it’d happened a lot.
I remembered a lot when she was younger, looking at her and wondering who the hell had been doing her hair. She’d just get it to a manageable length, and then she’d hack it off what looked to be with a hacksaw—or a fucking hunting knife, like she’d told me he’d done last night.
Just like that, I was mad all over again.
“Jesus Christ, Tate. You’re going to fucking break my goddamn table!”
I instantly let go of the table, and looked down at the dented plastic.
“This is a shitty fucking table if I can dent it,” I told him. “And God.”
Travis rose his brows at me.
“Any day now would be great.”
I brought my hands up to my head and sifted my fingers through my hair.
“Fuck!”
They waited.
I sat forward, put my hands on my knees, and stared at the ground.
“Y’all know Hennessy Hanes?”
“Your psychologist?” Baylor rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you know we do.”
I clenched my fists and stood up. I’d made it to the door before I turned and paced back in the opposite direction.
“She showed up today with her hair hacked off.”
“Hasn’t she always had weird haircuts?”
That was Reed.
Why was he even here? Wasn’t he supposed to be stationed in Germany?
At least, he was the last I heard.
I nodded, swallowing.
Then brought my hand up to the back of my head.
“If you don’t spit it out already, I’m going to beat it out of you.”
I looked at Parker, the one who’d spoken, and stared straight into his eyes for a few long seconds.
It’d be a fair fight. He was smaller than me, but not by much. His eyes though…yeah, they were practically dead.
I turned away and looked at Baylor.
“Last night her father came into her home, dragged her up by her hair, and sliced it off with a hunting knife because he knows that she sinned.”
“How did she sin?”
I gave my best friend an obvious ‘are you fucking stupid’ look.
Baylor started to laugh, then sobered when he saw I wasn’t joking.
He stood up.
“I’ll fucking kick his ass.”
“You’re telling me that he did this…Krisney said…oh, fucking God.”
That’s about where I was at, too.
“Every time she sins, he cuts her hair.”
“Going into someone’s house like that when they’re sleeping is illegal,” Parker said, zero emotion in his tone.
I laughed then.
“The cops in this town leave a lot to be desired,” I pointed out. “They got rid of some shitty ones, but…”
“But the whole fucking force was shit,” Evander added, filling in the words I’d left unsaid. “They fired a lot, but kept on others that were neutral because of their supposedly good work ethic. Only good one that I know I can count on is a woman, and we know how women in that profession are treated. She’s eaten alive up there, and sometimes I feel like the only reason she’s still there is because of her sister’s kids that she supports.”
I agreed with the other big man.
“I can remember at least ten times that her hair was hacked off like that,” I started pacing again. “And to top it off, she let it slip that it wasn’t the only thing that he used to do to her.”
Growls came from the table behind me.
When I turned, each man’s face was blank, even the new guys.
“I think maybe you should take the day off.” Travis stood and started collecting his papers. “We’ll finish this shit tomorrow. I have a brother-in-law that I guess I could speak to…but I’m not sure what I’d tell him at this point.”
Travis speaking to his brother-in-law was big. They hadn’t had a relationship in a very long time, but Travis’ woman, Hannah, had brought them together again. She’d helped them mend fences, but there was still tension there, and probably always would be.
Wolf was an agent of some kind, one I’d never cared to pay attention to, but I knew that he probably couldn’t do anything about this. Travis was right. Without proof that she was hurt, there was nothing on our end that we could do until he did.
We knew how the law worked, and sometimes it was a right bitch.
I’d never had a problem with the police, and never would.
However, I saw the gaps in the system, and I really didn’t want this to have to get worse before something else would be done.
Which meant I was talking to the town’s preacher. I was going to tell him what he was to do from now on, and I’d make sure he never touched his daughter again.
Not if he didn’t want his ass kicked afterwards, anyway. Fuck going back to jail. If that was what I had to do, then I’d do it.
It’d be worth it. That I knew for sure.
“Fine.” I walked toward the door. “But I’m going to have a few words with our preacher. Maybe one of you could accompany me?”
Rafe stood and walked toward me.
“I’ll go,” he said. “I’d had some stuff I needed to do at the church anyway.”
My brows lifted at that, but I wasn’t opposed to him coming.
If the man wanted to hear what was about to go down, who was I to say anything to the contrary?
Though, I had a feeling he was going there not as a favor to me, but as a favor to someone else.
Now only to find out who.
***
I arrived at the church in greasy pants, a dingy gray t-shirt that had some stains on it from hundreds of uses, and dirty boots that still had mud on them from the day before.
I didn’t stop to clean myself off, though. Knowing instinctively that it would antagonize the man that hated me with a passion.
My first stop was his office, which was empty but for a receptionist.
“Can I help you?” she asked, smiling brightly at not me, but at Rafe who’d tailed behind me.
I rolled my eyes.
Yes, Rafe was pretty. He looked like a woman’s wet dream if you asked me.
Tall, muscular, a slight beard. No identifying tattoos—that I could see—except for one single one on the inside of his elbow, and even then I had to squint to see it because it was the same color as his skin.
“I’m here to talk to the pastor,” I interrupted her ogling. “Where is he?”
The woman’s eyes flicked to me, then she flinched.
“Oh, hello Mr. Casey.” She smiled, but I could tell it was strained. “Mr. Hanes is in with a friend right now at his home at the back of the church. He should be done with this appointment by eleven o’clock.”
There was no way in hell I was waiting until eleven o’clock to address this. It was happening now.
“Okay,” I shrugged. “We’ll be back at eleven then.”
The receptionist smiled warily, looking relieved that I wouldn’t be waiting, and waved timidly.
“Have a good day, Mr. Casey.”
It was then that I placed who she was. Marion Kent. She’d been a friend of Hennessy’s while in high school.
Was she still a friend?