Reaper's Salvation: A Last Riders Trilogy by Jamie Begley (read a book TXT) 📗

Stretching his legs out, Silas rested his head back on the chair. “Lot of stars out tonight.”

“Yep.” Greer opened himself another beer. “Bet a bunch of those stars wish they could switch places with us. Aren’t you glad Silas didn’t let you take a nosedive?”

Staring at the lit end of the joint, Reaper took a hit before handing it over to Greer. Letting his hand drop down to his side, he rubbed Suki’s fur. “Yes.”

“You could sound happier about it,” Greer groused.

“You don’t know what it’s like living with nightmares.”

Silas and Greer gave low laughs.

“Boy, you think you’re the only one with nightmares?”

Greer and Silas shared a bleak glance.

Silas stood up to get himself another beer. “Don’t answer, Reaper. The wrong answer will have Greer ripping that misconception away. Suffice to say, you aren’t.”

“Damn right. You put up with that fucker rotting away for what? Nine years? I put up with the meanest son of bitch in the state of Kentucky for seventeen. The only good thing he taught us was how to shoot. His idea of being a good father was to teach us boys to be tough enough to take any hit and to turn women into doormats. You say or do the wrong thing to piss him off … kapow!” Greer flashed his fist out.

Silas twisted the cap of his beer off. “When Greer says his dad was mean, he isn’t exaggerating. Everyone in town was terrified of him.”

“Shit. I hated that son of a bitch. Still do.” The tiny flame of the joint was visible between Greer’s fingers as he turned his head to spit on the ground. “One night, he gave Tate and me a beating bad enough it left Tate unconscious. He didn’t give a rat’s ass. Locked us in the barn without any heat in the dead of winter. It was no never mind that Tate was sick with the flu. Had to listen to my ma trying to dig us out while Pa was passed out, high as a fucking kite, for Lord knows how long before he caught her and dragged her back in the house to lock her and my baby sister in the bedroom so she wouldn’t let us out. Yeah … those were some good fucking times.” Greer’s voice was filled with sarcasm as he extinguished the tip of the joint with his fingers.

Squatting down by the fire, Silas stared in the crackling flames. “What we say while we’re on this mountain, around this fire, is forgotten when we walk away. Deal?” Silas turned to stare at them gravely. “Neither of you don’t have to share your own personal shit—that’s your prerogative—but it stays only between us.”

“Got my word.” Greer shrugged. “Probably won’t remember it no way.”

“You have mine.” Reaper had no intention of sharing. He would keep anything said to himself.

Silas threw some more wood on the fire. “You have my word, too, so I’ll be expecting you keeping yours.”

Rising to go back to his chair, Silas stared moodily into the twinkling sky. “Freddy didn’t always have custody of me. I lived with my mom until I was seven. Freddy would come and get me on the weekends and had to have me back by Sunday morning before church. She wanted my stepdad and me there to make sure we appeared to be one happy family in front of that sanctimonious hypocrite preacher we used to have in town before Pastor Dean.”

“Saul Cornett.” Reaper placed his empty bottle on the ground, patting Suki as he listened.

“Saul was a sadistic bastard. He used to get his kicks by spanking kids in front of the congregation. Makes me sick to my stomach to this day remembering the joy on his face when he would beat those kids. The parents would tell him what they’d done bad during the week, and Saul would beat the demon that had caused them to act that way. My mother and stepfather never told on me, not because they didn’t believe in the stupidity he was preaching. No, they didn’t tell because they didn’t trust Saul wouldn’t leave a mark on me. They knew if Freddy ever saw that a hand had been laid on me, they would be minus one preacher. Instead, they had their own way of handling my discipline.

“Every Sunday night after dinner, my mother would go to her bedroom and turn the television on high. She’d let my stepfather punish me. My stepfather would take me into my bedroom, read off the list my mother made of my “sins.” After he read the list, he would make me take my clothes off, then spend the rest of the night raping me.”

Reaper heard Suki give a low whine.

“He and my mother told me that if I ever told anyone, especially Freddy, my stepfather would sneak into my dad’s house and kill him and me.”

“Did you father find out?” Reaper asked gruffly.

Silas turned his face from the sky to look at him. “Has Ginny told you what Freddy’s gift was?”

“Some. Greer, toss me another beer.” Reaper was careful with what he said, not wanting to get Ginny in trouble with the little she had told.

Greer took two beers out, handing him one, then took his plastic baggie out. “I’ll be taking another myself. I’m lighting a second one of these bad boys up, too.”

Studying Greer closely, Reaper could tell from his reaction that he had been unaware of Silas’s abuse.

Silas waited until Greer had the joint lit.

“Each member of my family have separate and distinct gifts, except Freddy and Fynn. Freddy could read the skies like you and I read books. He knew when things were going to happen and when to intervene within reason. If he interfered in someone’s life, it put the book out of whack. Chapter ten would happen in chapter six, or events were skipped ahead to chapter fifteen. That wasn’t even the worst. Freddy said some events wouldn’t appear at