Heathen: A Dark Enemies to Lovers Romance (Redwood Rebels Book 2) Rachel Leigh (ebook reader with built in dictionary .txt) 📖

success. She’s had a normal family life, with parents who work regular jobs. From the outside looking in, it is a good life. At least it was until her mom left. Everyone claims that she was having an affair, but it’s hard to imagine the pastor’s wife, a librarian, having an affair unless it was with God.

Willa was raised well with a good head on her shoulders. Here I am, the devil incarnate standing on the pastor’s porch because I knocked up his daughter while trying to prove to myself and others that she’d give me her virginity. I took it and I ran. Karma’s a fucking bitch.

The closer I get, the chatter of the people inside gets louder. No longer talking, someone is shouting. A man. It’s Pastor Jeffries and he sounds pissed.

The TV is turned up so loud that Alex Trebek drowns out their words, but something is going on in there. Just as I ball my fist, ready to knock, a loud thud freezes my movements. Pressing my ear to the door, I try to listen.

“You stay away from that boy, he’s the damn devil. You hear me?” Pastor Jeffries shouts.

“Get your hands off me.”

“You listen to your father, damnit!”

“You’re not my father,” Willa cries out.

My eyes widen and my heart begins thudding fiercely in my chest. He better get his hands off of her.

His voice rises to more of a scream. “I am your father. Don’t you ever say that again. I’m the only father you have and you’ll do what I tell you to. If you think you’re gonna run around this town and be a little slut just because your mom’s gone, you’re in for a rude awakening.”

“Ouch! That hurts. Stop.”

An elephant on the other side of this door couldn’t stop me as I barge through it without a clear head. A musty smell floods my senses. Like an antique store. Everything is brown. The walls, the flowers on the old couch, the carpet. It feels like stepping into my great-gran’s living room when I was four years old.

“Get your fucking hands off of her now!” I shout as I charge at the two of them. He has her wrists pinned over her head against the wall. Tears trail down Willa’s cheeks and something inside of me ignites into a full-blown rage as I take the old man down. With my hands wrapped around his throat, we crash into an end table that breaks. My head slams against a lamp and although I can feel the warmth of blood soak my hair, I feel no pain.

“Lars, stop!” Willa screeches. “Please. You’ll make it worse.” Her hands wrap around my arm as she tries to pull me up, but I’m focused on my fingers that snake around his neck. Something doesn’t allow me to stop as I squeeze harder and harder. My mind goes blank and my thoughts are irrational. When I get to this state, nothing good can come of it. Stop, Lars. Just fucking stop. I try to talk myself down from the ledge before I jump and there’s no going back.

“Lars, please.” Willa kneels next to me, her voice calm and...comforting. I look over at her tear-stained cheeks and my grip lessens. “He’s not worth it.” She pulls my arm until we’re both standing up. Her fingers slide down into to my hand as our eyes stay locked. “Come on.”

Snapping myself out of the trance I was in, I let her lead me out of the house. My staggered breaths begin to steady when we step outside. “What the hell was that all about?” I huff. We continue to walk before Willa stops and lets her hand free from its clutch around my arm.

“It’s complicated. You should go.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I’m not leaving you here with that animal.”

“I can’t go with you, Lars. It will just make things worse.”

“Willa,” I say, as I place both hands on either side of her shoulders. I wanna ask if he hits her. If he’s always this cruel to her, but what place do I have to ask such a personal question? “We still need to have that talk.” I tilt my head toward my car. “Come with me. It won’t take long.”

Glancing from me to the house while she chews on her bottom lip, she shivers. It’s mid-December and she’s standing here barefoot in a T-shirt and a pair of fuzzy pink pajama pants. I tear the sweatshirt over my head and wrap it around her shoulders, surprising us both. “What are you doing?” she asks.

“You’re cold. Now, come on. I have to go somewhere. We can talk on the ride.” I wrap an arm around her and try to coerce her to the car, but she still puts up resistance.

She looks down at her feet. “But, I don’t have any shoes.”

“Don't need any.” I give her a pull again, and this time, she obliges. I’ve always known that Willa can be easily persuaded. It’s not just me. She’s been pushed around her entire life. Now it appears that school isn’t her only battlefield. I had her home life pegged all wrong. There’s a war going on inside that house, and for some unknown reason, I feel like I need to be her shield. I’m just not so sure that’s a good idea, because who will protect her from me? Good intentions or not, I’m my own worst enemy and I’ve been at war with myself for the past nine years.

Once we’re inside, I crank up the heat and Willa tightly hugs my sweatshirt. “You ok?” I ask her.

She looks over at me and smiles. It’s the same smile she wore that night. The genuinely happy one. It makes me wonder if it was as fake then as it is now. “I’m fine.”

“Do you always smile through pain? Because I’m not sure how you can be fine after what I just walked in on.”

“It was nothing. He just gets upset sometimes.”

“Sometimes? So this