Burn in Hail (The Hail Raisers Book 3) Read online

  Even the blinding pain of us hitting our heads together didn’t keep my orgasm from rushing through me.

  Planting myself inside of her to the root, I came with a deep grunt.

  I don’t know what it was about having her bare, but the orgasm of all orgasms rushed through me. The moment my seed shot out of me, it took everything—my breath. My love. Every-fucking-thing.

  Which, of course, was about the time that her father pulled in beside her car, witnessing the end of our copulation.

  Chapter 23

  Taco Bell doesn’t have a playground because it’s no fun to play when you might very well shit your pants.

  -Text from Tate to Hennessy

  Tate

  “You’re not seriously going after what he did yesterday, are you?” I asked her.

  The following altercation between Hennessy and her father hadn’t been good.

  Although Pastor Hanes hadn’t been able to ‘see’ what was going on, he was far from stupid. He knew exactly what we were doing, and didn’t bother to hide that fact.

  In fact, when Hennessy realized that her father was there, and she’d hopped down off of my lap as she yanked up her pants, shit had hit the fan.

  If she’d stayed where she’d been, we might have been able to hide the fact that I was inside of her—maybe. But by hopping off of me, she’d left my still hard and wet dick sticking straight up behind her.

  Seeing as it was hard, and I liked my dick healthy and whole, I didn’t try to shove it into my pants right away. Which also meant that Pastor Hanes had seen straight past Hennessy’s head where my dick was wide open for the world to see.

  The moment he got proof of what we’d been doing—IE seeing my dick in the wide open air with her juices still clinging to it—he’d gone ape shit.

  I’d had to pull her back into my truck just in time to intercept a slap that’d been aimed at her face.

  After that, it’d gone even further down hill, making me leave before it could get any worse.

  After taking hours to cool off, I’d spoken to her, and she’d been unfazed. Apparently, that was a normal thing for her.

  Normally, I’d question her, but she’d been acting out of it ever since.

  And now, twenty minutes after waking up, she informed me that she was going to church. With the same man that’d been less than an inch away from putting a bruise on her delicate skin.

  “You’re shitting me,” I repeated when she didn’t respond to my question.

  She sighed.

  “I have to go,” she replied. “I’m going.”

  Her firm answer had me crawling out of bed even though it was the last thing I wanted to do.

  Today was the only day that I had off during the week, and I wanted to spend it in that shit-hole church about as much as I wanted to have a colonoscopy in ten years.

  “You don’t have to…” I shot her a look before she could finish that sentence.

  “Shut it.” I grunted, “I’m not getting dressed up, though.”

  Her mouth twitched.

  “I’m wearing my clothes from last night,” she said, pointing down at her jeans and t-shirt. Clothes that we’d stopped at her house to get so she could help work on my place.

  Though, we hadn’t gotten much work done, and that’d been because the moment that she’d bent over in her yoga pants, she’d inadvertently exposed the wet spot on her crotch—leaving me with visuals of my come smearing the inside of her thighs.

  Which then led to a whole lot of dirty sex, and us exhausted in my bed for the rest of the night watching movies and making love.

  “Are you going to get into trouble for that, too?” I growled.

  Hennessy shrugged. “I’m going because if I don’t, the congregation will wonder if you’ve killed me after everyone witnessed yesterday’s fiasco.”

  I gritted my teeth and looked away, unwilling to think about all the accusations that I was sure the town was throwing around.

  If I didn’t have a job and a house that I fucking loved because the woman I loved loved it, I’d leave this town with her at my side and never look back.

  But, I did. I had that, and I knew that it wouldn’t be fair to her to leave.

  So, I got ready for church, forwent breakfast because I thought that it wouldn’t go down well when I was about to do what I was about to do, and went to fucking church.

  It was a wonder I didn’t start to burn the minute I breached the doors.

  “We’re not going to go to Sunday School,” she said quietly as we walked into the front foyer. “We’re going to go straight to church.”

  Yay.

  Not.

  “Fine with me,” I grunted, placing my hand on her back and guiding her into the double doors.

  Of course, we’d arrived almost too late.

  Meaning when we’d walked into the church itself, everyone and their brother turned to see who the latecomers were.

  And that meant that I caught every single grimace, horror-filled look, and surprise that we’d come in all of twenty seconds of being inside the doors.

  The whispers started immediately, and I grimaced.

  I fucking hated church.

  The only reason I’d come when I was young was because my grandmother had begged and pleaded, and sometimes my mom could goad me into attending.

  Speaking of my grandmother, I immediately spotted her in the middle row.

  Nobody was sitting around her, meaning she saved me a spot just like she had for likely the last few weeks since I’d arrived back home.

  She’d always done that—saved me a spot next to her.

  I’d always refused to attend once I was able to make that decision, but still, she saved the seat.

  Today being no different.

  Which immediately made me feel guilty for not going to visit her sooner. Though, admittedly, I hadn’t wanted to see the disappointment in her eyes that I knew was going to be there.

  I walked up to my grandmother’s side—one of the only people that hadn’t turned around to see the latecomers, and dropped my hand on her shoulder.

  She startled, looked at me, and her entire fucking face lit up.

  Fuck.

  “You saving me a seat?”

  Her eyes filled with tears, and I realized two things.

  One, I was a complete and utter asshole for writing her off like I’d done everyone else in this town. This woman loved me, and would never stop.

  Two, I needed to spend more time with her. She was looking old, and that was saying something since she was old when I left.

  She immediately scooted over, and I followed her in.

  Hennessy didn’t hesitate to follow, which blanketed me on two sides by women that I knew for certain loved me.

  It was a humbling feeling.

  “I’m glad you came.” Grams smiled then, holding out her hand.

  I took it and held it, thinking how delicate she felt.

  She’d always been that way, though. She was a lot like my mom—or, I guess you could say, my mom was a lot like her. At least in the looks department. Both of them were petite, and fine boned.

  Grams patted my hand and leaned slightly against me.

  Hennessy patted my other hand, leaving me feeling comfortable despite having some of the most judgmental people in the town of Hostel staring at me like I didn’t belong.

  “It’s good to see that some of the sinners could make it,” I heard someone whisper from behind me.

  I turned, unsurprised to find Maria on the row behind me.

  I smiled at her, and she scowled.

  Turning around when Hennessy smacked my thigh, I wound my arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close, smiling widely when I heard the whispers pick up.

  The music signaling church was beginning sounded, and I lifted my eyes to the front in time to see Reverend Hanes breach the top steps leading to the pulpit.

  At first, he was
n’t aware of the whispers.

  He smiled at his congregation. He waved, then he started his sermon.

  It was about halfway through it that he realized that not only was his daughter in attendance, but accompanying her was the filth that he’d tried so hard to keep away from her.

  The small smile that quirked my lips caused Reverend Hanes to falter in his words, causing Hennessy to follow his line of sight straight to me.

  I squeezed her shoulder when she pinched my thigh, causing her to sigh.

  “Stop it,” she murmured under her breath.

  “Okay,” I agreed reluctantly.

  Reverend Hanes looked away, and he continued where he left off, but it wasn’t lost on me that his shoulders kept getting tighter and tighter.

  In fact, by the time he was done, I thought for sure he was about to lose his shit.

  But he finished his sermon, giving the appearance that he wasn’t worried in the least.

  Once done, he walked to the entrance and greeted his followers like he didn’t have a care in the world.

  Only, when he got to us, he didn’t bother offering his hand.

  “Hennessy,” her father took her hand and squeezed.

  It was the squeak that left Hennessy’s mouth that had me latching onto the piece of shit’s wrist and squeezing right back.

  He let go instantly and scowled at me.

  “You’re unwelcome here,” he informed me.

  I shrugged. “There are other churches that Hennessy can attend.”

  My grandmother offered Hanes her hand, unaware of the tension, and said a few nice words.

  The moment that she was through, we moved through the line and out into the hot, sunny Sunday air.

  Grams took my hand and walked with us. Hennessy looked troubled, leaving me angry and unsure of what in the hell I was supposed to do.

  If he was anybody else, I’d fucking off him. However, he was too much of a prominent member of the Hostel community to just go and take out like he wouldn’t be missed.

  “You’ll both come to lunch with me?” my Grams interrupted my thoughts. “I’d love to talk.”

  Hennessy immediately agreed for the both of us.

  The smile that Grams bestowed Hennessy was enough to break my heart all over again.

  “Excellent!” she cried. “I’m going to go home and change out of my Sunday finery, and then we can meet. Where would you like to…”

  Loud murmurs broke out through the air, and I turned to see what was causing everyone to lose their shit, only to find myself staring at a very pissed off Reverend Hanes.

  Reverend Hanes, still in his robes, was staring at me like I was a piece of crap that wasn’t worth the time to scrape off his shoe.

  “God doesn’t like men who commit felonies,” he spat.

  My brows rose, and suddenly I was tired of this man’s shit.

  “Oh, yeah?” I asked. “How about cheaters? How about assholes that knock young girls up and then forget that the child exists?” I paused, really on a roll now. “How about men that beat their daughters for sins that only God is allowed to judge them for?”

  “What are you talking about?” my Grams asked worriedly. “My Tate has paid for his sins. He’s asked for forgiveness, and is working to become one with God.”

  That was a lie, but it was the thought that counted.

  I wasn’t looking to become one with God. I was just looking to make it through the goddamn day without breaking.

  “Bull,” Reverend Hanes said. “He’s a filthy piece of excrement that doesn’t deserve the likes of my daughter.”

  I laughed.

  “Your daughter seems to like this filthy piece of excrement.”

  And that was when I realized my mistake.

  I thought that Reverend Hanes was somewhat sane.

  Turns out, he wasn’t.

  ***

  Hennessy

  I knew that by going to church, I’d be pissing my father off. After what had happened yesterday, I fully expected him to be upset that I was there.

  However, I hadn’t missed a Sunday sermon yet since I’d been home, and today I wouldn’t either. Especially after all the hype that was being generated after the city had found out about my and Tate’s relationship.

  What I hadn’t expected was my father to confront us during the most crowded part of Sunday church. The time, directly after my father finished, that everyone gathered out on the church lawn and discussed the week prior, and the coming week ahead. The time when some of the most gossip was spread amongst my father’s parishioners.

  “You’re a filthy whore in the eyes of God.” I closed my eyes as embarrassment swamped me. “Your mother would be so ashamed of you. Cavorting with a man that has sinned the worst of us all.”

  That’s when I started to laugh.

  I opened my eyes and stared at the man I thought was my father, but was so far away from how a father should act that it was a wonder I’d made it this long with my head in the sand.

  “So, your small sins don’t equal the same in God’s eyes?” I asked. “Your cheating, lying, stealing ways are less serious than the fact that Tate killed a couple of gang members that were trying to rape a small girl?”

  My father’s face twisted. “What I do on my own personal time is of no concern to you.”

  I couldn’t stop the laughter from continuing to bubble out of my throat. It was harsh, and hard to hear, even to my own ears.

  “That’s rich, coming from you,” I said. “You beat your own daughter. Cut her hair every time you perceive that she has sinned. And you’ve done that for a very long time now.” I paused. “Oh, twenty years give or take? Ever since my mother died? The mother that you cheated on during her final days on this Earth?”

  He snapped his mouth shut, surprised that I’d let that particular cat out of the bag.

  What, was I supposed to act like I didn’t know when he was practically tearing the man that I loved to shreds in front of some of the most judgmental people in the town?

  I think not.

  “What about that time you beat me so bad that I had to stay at home for a week, and you told everyone that I went to a youth camp while my bruises healed?” I questioned.

  The big man at my side stiffened.

  He’d been home that week from leave. It’d been his fault that I’d been caught ogling him anyway. He’d ran past our house in nothing but shorts and tennis shoes. He’d had sweat dripping down his body, and he’d been drenched.

  My father had caught me ogling, and began to beat me for my ‘sinful behavior.’

  “Do you think your parishioners know that you skim a little money off the top when you feel like having a nice gamble out on the boats?” I asked. “I’m pretty sure gambling is a sin, as well…right?”

  My father’s face turned a mottled shade of red, and then his eyes narrowed.

  “You’re delusional.” His face wiped clear of any and all expression but pity. “This man has brainwashed you with lies. What has happened to you?”

  I leaned sideways and looped my arm around Tate’s thick waist.

  “Have a good one, Dad,” I commented. “We’re going to have lunch with Tate’s Grams.”

  It was as we were leaving, both of us walking to his grandmother’s car to make sure she got in all right, that it happened.

  A scream filled the air, causing both of us to turn to survey what was going on.

  At first, I couldn’t place what was wrong.

  My eyes scanned the parking lot. There was a huddle of groups all likely talking about what had just gone down, and quite a few people were still staring at us as we walked. However, that hadn’t been the scream—one of real fear—that had caught our attention.

  “Where did it come from?” I asked.

  Tate shook his head. “I don’t…”

  And that’s when we saw my father coming toward us, the hunting rifle he normally kept in the
back window of his truck held confidently in his hand.

  My belly sank.

  Tate pushed me behind him.

  I looked around him to see my father’s gun aimed at Tate’s lower body.

  “You will not make this worse than it already is,” my father growled, tightening his hand around the butt of the gun.

  Tate didn’t say a word.

  I was so focused on the two of them that I wasn’t paying attention to the woman that was at my side, the door open and her standing beside it.

  In fact, I was so focused that I didn’t know the woman, the sweet older woman, was armed until she spoke, drawing our attention.

  “You will put that down,” Grams ordered tightly.

  My father’s eyes flicked to hers, and widened. He then lowered his weapon to his side, surprised to find himself threatened enough to momentarily drop his attention from the two of us.

  Tate still stayed solid in front of me, unable to move because it would then cause me to become exposed.

  How did I know this?

  Each time I started to poke my head around him, he countered my move with one of his own, making me get nothing more than a great up close and personal view of his broad back.

  “I’m tired of you lot bullying my grandson.” Grams held her gun up like it was an extension of her hand. “I’ve sat by while you spewed your nonsense because it seemed like the easier thing to do, but after dealing with it for so long, I must’ve gotten immune. Now that my eyes have been opened, I’ve decided I’m not taking any more of your shit.”

  My father went to raise the weapon, but he didn’t so much as pull it up to rest in against his inner arm before Grams cocked the revolver.

  She aimed it straight at my father’s chest, and I could barely breathe.

  I was about to see one of two things. My father shot, or the man I’d fallen in love with shot.

  Neither option was good.

  “Let’s see who can shoot fastest.” My father tensed.

  Before he could so much as put his finger on the trigger, Grams proved that being in her late eighties didn’t affect her speed in the slightest.

  Grams shot my father in the foot, and my father went down like a stack of stones.

  “I’m old, and I’ve had more practice,” Grams said, lowering her arm. “Though, I have to admit, I’ve never once thought that I’d actually have to shoot a living being for being stupid.”