Say You Love Me Read online

  I’d just managed to calm the dogs when she returned, breathless and clutching her cleaning rag in one hand and a tattered, leather-bound book with faded lettering that appeared to be a century old in the other.

  “What do you need it for?” She handed it to me.

  “Shh,” I said to the dogs again as their growling intensified.

  Irma didn’t pay them any heed. I got the feeling she was more concerned with my interest in her Bible.

  “Jake’s grandpa. I’m going to make him swear on it that he’ll be kind to Jake.”

  Her face fell. “Oh.” She narrowed her eyes, spearing me with invisible guilt lasers. “So you don’t want to read it?”

  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as Macy and Gremlin whimpered. “Not now.”

  She waved the cleaning rag in front of her as if it was a white flag of surrender. “You might not like what you read, anyway. You know? That part about sex before marriage.”

  The dogs growled again, the hair on their necks standing on end. I set the Bible on the coffee table and pulled the dogs against me, afraid they’d launch off my lap and attack Irma’s ankles.

  Yeah, this bitch was so getting fired.

  “Yes, Irma.” I spoke through clenched teeth. “I know about that part.”

  She stomped out of the room in a huff, giving me time to reflect on how best to can her. Cesar wanted me to wait, but as soon as I felt better, I’d drive her to the ranch myself, giving Sara no chance to refuse me. A chill swept up my spine at the thought of going back to my childhood home. I hadn’t been there since I’d run away on graduation night. That was when Dad had beaten me for humiliating him during my Valedictorian speech. The thought of going back to the place of my childhood nightmares burned a hole through my stomach, but I had no choice. I had to get rid of Irma.

  * * *

  I woke Jake around eight. He was groggy and didn’t want to get out of bed, but with the help of Macy and Gremlin, he finally sat up, pushing the little slobber buckets off his face.

  I felt like my chest was being ripped open with each article of clothing we stuffed into his backpack. I still couldn’t believe the judge would send him off with a stranger.

  Jake had barely finished breakfast when the front gate called with a visitor request. He was here fifteen minutes early. Bastard. I reluctantly told security to allow the preacher in, but what I really wanted to tell them was to call the cops and have him arrested. For what, I didn’t know, but I was certain the man was up to no good.

  I sat with Jake on the living room sofa, clutching his clammy hand while Cesar let the preacher in. The dogs stared at us through the window, barking maniacally when Jim Miller walked into the living room, clutching a wide-brimmed straw cowboy hat against his hip and dressed like a typical ranch hand, with shit-kickers and faded jeans. The exception was his white collar and starched black shirt. I couldn’t shake the feeling that his minister garb was just a show. A clothing of wool used to conceal his wolf’s fangs and claws.

  He flashed a wide smile, revealing yellow teeth stained from years of tobacco use. His gaze slid from the barking dogs outside and then back to me. “What a lovely house you have, Miss Boudreau.”

  I stood, squaring my shoulders and giving him a cold once over. “Thanks.”

  I didn’t bother yelling at the dogs to be quiet. Let them bark. The preacher needed to know he wasn’t welcome here.

  Cesar motioned to the chair across from us. “Have a seat, Reverend Miller.” Much to my chagrin, Cesar tapped on the glass for the dogs to be quiet before closing the curtains.

  “Don’t mind if I do.” The preacher set his hat on the armrest, the bald spot on top of his head gleaming under the lamplight like a giant cue ball. He sat down, clutching his knees and flashing Jake a lopsided grin. “You must have grown a head taller since I last saw you, son.”

  Jake’s cheeks colored, and he looked at his hands folded in his lap. I couldn’t tell if he was being shy or if he was terrified. Either way, it didn’t sit well with me. I lowered myself back onto the sofa, squeezing Jake’s hand and wishing I could do a better job of comforting him, as in kicking that damn phony out of my house and telling him to never come back.

  I scowled at the preacher’s boots, caked in what appeared to be dried mud. I imagined the trail of filth he’d left on the carpet. Irma was going to throw a fit.

  Cesar sat on the other side of Jake, the veins in his neck popping out like raging tributaries. He looked as tense as I felt. I hoped the preacher understood Cesar and I were not going to let him push us around.

  When I heard Irma moving about in the kitchen, I remembered she had left lemonade and cookies out on the counter, but I didn’t bother offering any to Miller. The only thing this deadbeat was getting from me was a whole lot of grudge.

  Jake sighed, kicking the sofa with the backs of his feet. I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or bored with the posturing adults. I pointedly stared at the old man, waiting for him to make the next move.

  The preacher let out a low whistle, checking out the vaulted ceiling and my chef’s kitchen. He rubbed his greying beard, looking like he was mentally calculating the worth of my granite counters and state-of-the-art appliances.

  “What do homes run in this neighborhood?” he asked.

  I pursed my lips, sharing a knowing glance with Cesar.

  “I’m not sure,” Cesar answered, which was better than my reply, which would have been, “None of your damn business.”

  Reverend Miller seemed unfazed. “I bet the HOA fees are expensive.” He began counting off on bony fingers. “Security guards, electronic surveillance—”

  “Their safety is important to me,” Cesar interrupted. “Some people think a wealthy young woman is an easy target, but I will not let anyone take advantage of her.”

  The old man had the nerve to laugh. “I guess you would be a target when you’ve got all that money just sittin’ around.”

  I gritted my teeth to keep from swearing. “My money is nobody’s business but mine.”

  The preacher casually leaned back in the chair, steepling his fingers as his eyes lit with humor. “Of course.” Then his gaze roamed to Irma’s tattered Bible sitting on the coffee table. “Is this your Bible?” he asked me.

  Before I could answer, Irma rushed to his side, balancing a tray of cookies and lemonade. “It’s mine,” she said with an unusual, serene lilt to her voice.

  Weird.

  Reverend Miller took the glass of lemonade she offered. “Thank you kindly.” He nodded toward the Bible. “It’s lovely.”

  She set down the tray and clutched the book to her chest. “Been in my family for five generations.”

  “Is that so?” He set the glass on the table and stood, lifting his hat off the armrest and tipping it to her. “I’m so sorry we weren’t properly introduced.” He held out a hand. “And you are?”

  Blushing, she placed her thick fingers in his grasp. “Irma Gonzales.”

  “Irma, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He leaned over, kissing her knuckles. “Reverend Jim Miller.” He released her hand, his beady eyes narrowing before he flashed a smile that reminded me of a snake, preparing to devour his prey. “Are you related to Cesar? His sister, his aunt?”

  Barf. I knew exactly what was going on. The guy was as smooth as a snake oil salesman, trying to work Irma over in an attempt to get to me. I wasn’t falling for it.

  Her blush deepened. “No, Padre.” She fingered her flour-stained apron. “I’m just the housekeeper.”

  His jaw dropped, and he stepped back, looking as if he’d been struck by a verbal spear. “Surely you are more than just the housekeeper. You must be the cause of that heavenly smell coming from the kitchen.”

  She sighed, stroking the leather cover of her Bible while looking at the minister as if he could walk on water. “Homemade breakfast tacos. Would you like some?”

  Cesar jumped to his feet. “Reverend Miller won’t be here long, Irma.” His tone was harsh,
banging inside my skull like a bass drum. He issued Irma a challenging glare. “Please allow us a moment of privacy.”

  She scowled at Cesar before turning to the reverend. “I’m so sorry, Padre.”

  “No worries, Irma. You are kind to offer.” The preacher’s wolfish grin widened. “Too kind.”

  She smiled at him before glaring once more at Cesar and letting the Bible fall back onto the table with a thud. After she stormed out of the room, the minister turned to my nephew, whom he’d pretty much ignored until now. “Well, Jake. I suppose we should get going.”

  Jake crossed his arms, stiffening. “I don’t want to leave Auntie and Cesar.”

  If my heart wasn’t broken before, it was completely shattered now. I wrapped an arm around Jake, letting him lean into me when his grandpa crossed to us.

  I was forced to breathe through my mouth as the overwhelming smell of manure hit me. The old man stunk like he’d been rolling in cow dung.

  The preacher turned down his lip in a pout, bending down on one knee and looking Jake in the eyes. “You don’t want to have fun this weekend? My church is on fifty acres. We have a fishing pond and lots of fun stuff to do.”

  Jake perked up. “Do you have dogs?”

  The old man scratched his scraggly beard. “Four dogs, six cats, a dozen chickens, two dozen goats, and a stubborn donkey.”

  “Wow.” Jake pulled away from me, scooting to the edge of the sofa. “You got all those animals?”

  The preacher solemnly nodded. “Yep, and I’ll need help feeding them.”

  “I can help.” Jake bounced around like he was trying to pop a bubble beneath his butt. So much for him wanting to stay with me.

  The old man chuckled, crinkling his worn hat. “I bet you can.”

  Cesar and I shared a look. I could tell by the way he clenched his fists, he wasn’t buying the preacher’s sweet grandpa façade either.

  “Do your dogs play fetch?” Jake asked.

  “Yep,” the minister said. “I have a retriever that will chase a stick for hours. He’ll even jump into the pond to fetch it.”

  Jake jutted a finger toward our yellow Lab’s nose, barely seen through a crack in the curtain. “Nacho goes in the pool.”

  “I reckon Old Bud is a lot like Nacho.”

  Jake looked at his fingers, twisting them in his lap. “Will he sleep with me?”

  “Sure.” The minister chuckled. “If you want him to.”

  “Okay.” Jake turned to me with a pleading gaze. “Auntie, can I go?”

  I forced a smile, ruffling my nephew’s hair. “Of course, Jake.”

  “I’ll go get my bag.”

  When Jake raced out of the room, I felt as if he was dragging my heart behind him.

  The reverend rose with a groan, his knees cracking and grinding with the movement. “He’s a good kid.”

  I crossed my arms. “He’s been through a lot, Mr. Miller.”

  “Reverend Miller,” he corrected.

  I bristled at that, and it took all my willpower to keep a straight face. I did not want this man to know how much he unnerved me.

  “Reverend Miller,” Cesar interrupted, “Do you understand what Savannah is saying? His mother verbally abused and abandoned him.”

  The reverend clutched his hat in a white-knuckled grip. “I’ve been an ordained minister for nearly thirty years. I’ve seen it all.”

  I stood on shaky legs and summoned my inner-bitch. “I don’t care what you’ve seen, Reverend.” I emphasized his name with a snarl. “I need to know you will be patient with Jake, that you will not scream at him, call him names, or hit him.”

  He made a face. “I won’t.”

  “I need a better guarantee, Reverend Miller.” I grabbed the Bible off the coffee table and held it out to him. “Swear it.”

  He had the nerve to laugh. “Okay.” He made a goofy face while placing his hand on the Bible. “I swear I won’t scream at Jake or call him names.” He dropped his hand and stepped back. “Happy now?”

  The asshole was mocking me. It was hard not to whack the book upside his head.

  “Or hit him,” I added.

  His eyes widened, then narrowed. “Spare the rod, spoil the child, Miss Boudreau.”

  Fucking asshole!

  Cesar stepped in, his voice dropping to an ominous rumble. “Reverend Miller, you either swear it or you leave here without Jake.”

  “Fine,” he huffed, pressing his hand against the Bible once more. “I swear I won’t hit Jake.”

  Jake ran back into the room with his backpack slung over one shoulder. “I’m ready.”

  The preacher shoved the straw hat on his head but not before shooting me a sideways glare. “Lots to do today. Let’s get going.”

  I bent on my knee, hugging Jake so hard, he squirmed against me.

  “Ouch, Auntie!”

  I pulled back, sniffling hard and fighting back that dam of tears. “Your phone is charged, and I packed your charger.” I searched his gaze and squeezed his shoulders, hoping he took my instructions seriously. “You know to call me if there are any problems, right?”

  “Yeah.” He backed away, looking perturbed. “Can I go now?”

  “Okay.” I sniffled again, giving him one more quick hug. “I love you.” It took every ounce of my waning strength to keep from breaking down and sobbing like a baby.

  He smiled. “Love you, too, Auntie.”

  “Be safe,” I added.

  The minister stepped around me, patting Jake on the back. “You don’t have to worry about his safety with me.”

  Cesar helped me up. “She cares about Jake. We both do.” He nodded to Jake. “Remember what your auntie said. Call if you need us.”

  Jake shrugged, blissfully unaware of the tension in the room, which was as thick as butter. “Okay.”

  I followed them outside to the preacher’s ancient, rusty yellow truck with the missing tailgate. I clutched my elbows as a morning breeze tickled my nape and sent a chill down my spine.

  “What time will you bring him back?” I asked.

  The preacher tossed Jake’s bag in the bed of the truck and helped him into his seatbelt. At least he’d remembered to buckle him up, not that it made his rusted hunk of metal any safer.

  “Sometime tomorrow night?” The reverend answered without bothering to look at me as he shut Jake’s door.

  “He has school Monday.” Tension wound around my neck like a snake. “I want him home by six.”

  He adjusted his hat, a shadow falling over his hooded eyes. “I have a sermon at five. I can have him back by seven.”

  “No later than that,” I said. “He has to eat dinner and shower and get ready for bed.”

  The preacher shook his head, snickering. “I have food and plumbing, too, Miss Boudreau.”

  Cesar blocked the preacher’s path, holding out a staying hand. “Seven, Reverend.”

  The old man threw up his hands. “All right.”

  Cesar stepped aside, letting the preacher climb into the truck. The engine turned over after a few tries, making all kinds of noises as smoke plumes flew out of the exhaust.

  I waved to Jake as they drove off. “Love you,” I mouthed to him.

  Jake smiled and waved back. I felt so helpless standing there, breathing in fumes and watching my nephew disappear as the truck turned the corner. I couldn’t get Jake’s smile out of my head. I’d seen that same smile before in an old photograph of me, when I was a child sitting in my mom’s lap. I’d been so innocent then, so vulnerable. Then she was killed, leaving me with a monster who mentally and physically abused me.

  When Jake had first come to live with me, I’d made a promise to myself I wouldn’t let Jake’s childhood be like mine. I wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt him the way I’d been hurt.

  Realization struck why I’d not liked the preacher from the moment I’d first seen him. There was something in his eyes, a predatory gleam that reminded me too much of my dad.

  Cesar walked me inside. Onc
e he closed the door behind us, I turned into him, a sob escaping my throat.

  He circled me in a strong embrace, kissing the top of my forehead. “It’s okay, bella. It’s just a couple of days.”

  But I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Sobs wracked me as I clutched him like a lifeline. He swept me into his arms and carried me upstairs, laying me in bed. Then he climbed over me and held me in his arms, letting me soak his shirt with tears. I cried until exhaustion claimed me and fatigue weighed down my eyelids.

  He tucked the blankets around me. “You need rest, bella.”

  I mumbled something before letting my eyelids fall shut. The last thing I remember before drifting to sleep was Jake’s innocent smile as he waved goodbye.

  Dear God, if you do exist, please keep Jake safe.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I woke up from a much needed nap and sent Candace a reminder text to check on Jake. Then I sent Jake a text, asking how he was doing. Jake wasn’t into texting, but he usually answered me with emojis. After I returned from the bathroom, I was pleased to see a happy face, followed by an emoji of a dog wagging his tail and a slice of pizza.

  So his grandpa had let him play with the dog and fed him pizza, and Jake was apparently happy. That noose which was strung around my neck loosened just a little.

  Maybe, I thought, Jake’s grandpa isn’t a bad man. Maybe he just wants to reconnect with his grandson. Yeah, and maybe pigs will start flying out of your ass, Savannah.

  Cesar and I ate sandwiches on the patio while I warily eyed Irma’s front door, relieved that she hadn’t come out. Cesar must have pissed her off big time. Good. Maybe she’d be ready to quit when I fired her. I alternated between slipping the dogs pieces of ham and checking my phone every five minutes, disappointed I hadn’t heard from Candace after over an hour.

  I texted her again, this time explaining that Jake’s grandpa had argued with me when I’d told him not to spank Jake. This elicited the response I was looking for. She called me within a few seconds.