The Outliers (The Outskirts Duet #2)

He’d hurt her.

He… I had to stop thinking about it before my plan crumbled before my eyes and I wound up the one in jail for murder.

Richard was shorter than I thought. Smaller than the huge persona that preceded him. I imagined him to be huge. Muscular. Menacing. This guy was five foot nine at best. He wasn’t a large man. I would even go so far as to call him skinny.

“Yes, I think you can, help me” I finally answered. “I wanted to know more about the church. I saw your flyers.”

“What would you like to know?” he asked. “Do you currently belong to a church?”

I shook my head and looked around the bare office space. “No, I don’t. Unless you consider being dragged to Easter and Christmas Mass by my parents every year as a kid as belonging to a church.”

“I do not,” Richard said sternly, taking off his reading glasses and polishing them on the sleeve of his white button-down shirt.

Richard looked up and gave me a quick once over with his beady little eyes. I could see my dismissal written all over his face. He put his glasses back on and picked up a pen, dropping his head back down to his work. “Service is three times a day. The times are posted on the board outside my office. There are some flyers as well if you’d like to take one. We are only here for the summer but we have a housing unit in North Carolina where our main church is located if you wanted to come back with us and see what it's all about.”

That was his pitch? This church was his entire life and THAT was his pitch? Miller could have done a better job.

“I already have a flyer,” I said, waving around the yellow piece of paper in my hand. “But you see, I need more than just the service. I’ve been feeling a little lost lately. I’m looking for some real-life guidance through God.”

“How so?” Richard asked, sounding annoyed. He kept checking his watch for the time. He never asked me to take a seat.

“I recently lost someone close to me. Actually, it wasn’t recently. It was a couple of years ago. But, I can’t seem to move on. When I heard you were coming to town I sought you out. I need to know God’s plan for me.”

Richard shook his head. “We all need God son. If you’d like, you can sign up for counseling with Pastor Maryn. He's over by the tent setting up for the afternoon. He'll be more than happy to help you.” Richard said, holding his hand out to the flap, furthering my dismissal. “I look forward to seeing you at the service.”

Shit.

It wasn’t going how I’d expected it to go. The safety of my entire world was at stake. I needed to keep him in here for as long as possible. At least for another few minutes or so.

Time for Plan B.

I was nervous. Damned near desperate when I turned back toward Richard. “I’m sorry I took up your time. It’s just that I have a lot of time of my own on my hands now that my land holdings company has a new management team. I’ve got nothing but time to think and money to spend, but no one to spend it on anymore It all seems cheap. Cars houses things. I'd much rather spend money on things that matter. Like my soul.” I pushed open the door. “Does Pastor Maryn also handle the donations? Never mind. I’ll talk to her myself. I see that you’re busy. Have a good afternoon, sir.”

“Son, why don’t you come back and sit a while,” Richard called out.

I stifled a laugh before turning back around.

“Sorry, I was so distracted before,” Richard said, pushing his papers to the side. “How about you talk and I’ll listen. Then, maybe we will see if God can direct us to his grand plan for you.”

Richard gestured to the chair in front of the desk the same way he’d gestured to the door only seconds before.

I took a seat. “Thank you. I really appreciate this,” I said as genuinely as I could although the words Imma kill you, motherfucker was what was really running through my head.

“Tell me again. Why do you have all this time on your hands?” Richard asked, resting his elbows on the desk, his index fingers pressed together in the shape of a steeple.

It was almost too easy. Money. He wanted to talk about my money.

I spent a while spewing bullshit to him. For the most part, he listened and nodded. Occasionally he’d recite something from the bible I knew didn’t mean what he thought it meant. Just because I didn’t choose religion didn’t mean I was ignorant of it. After a while he asked me about my family.

“My parents moved away a while ago. I don’t see them much anymore. We don’t really get along well.”

One of many lies I told him that afternoon. It hurt me to lie about them when I don’t think there was a time I’d ever thought bad about my parents. I don’t think they missed a single one of my baseball games or practices. They were there. Physically and emotionally. Parents wise, I hit the lottery.

I stared at Richard.

Others weren’t as lucky.

“Why didn’t you get along with your parent’s son. Next to God, family is what’s most important.”

Bullshit.

“I can’t really pinpoint where it all went wrong,” I started, dropping my head into my hands for a bit of dramatic effect and mentally thanking Mrs. Doogan, my high school guidance counselor, for convincing me to take that semester of drama as one of my electives. I lifted my head. “Do you have a family Pastor?”

Richard nodded. “I’m a widower, but I have a daughter.”

“I’m sorry about your wife,” I offered.

Even though she’s ALIVE. Which I was hoping he had no idea about.

“We all have our fair share of problems, son. My wife and I weren’t always on the same page. My daughter is going through a rebellious phase. Even with my guidance, she’s lost her way.”

“Again, I’m sorry to hear that.”

Richard waved me off. “Don’t apologize. I’m very very certain that she’ll find her way back to us soon.” He crossed a leg over his knee. “One way or another.”

Like hell she will.

“And if she doesn’t?” I asked.

“That’s not an option,” Richard said in a very serious tone, looking down at his hands. “Defiance is never an option.” he cleared his throat and looked back up at me and smiled. “Not when it comes to God.”

Richard stood up and walked behind me. He peered out the plastic tent window then lowered the flap for the shade casting the room in a muted light. “I have a service in a few moments. One of our very last for the summer. I’m sorry I can’t give you more time. But tell me this. Do your real problems lie with your relationship with your family or your relationship with God? Or…” He walked back around the desk and leaned over it with his hands flat on the top. His eyebrows pointed inward. A twisted cruel smile pulled at his lips. “Or…is it a woman who has you seeking out HIS holy plan?”

“Well,” I started, about to spew some more bullshit about a made-up problem when he interrupted me.