The Missing

still larger than life, and she could remember in acute detail how strong his hands were, how he knew exactly where to hit to make it hurt the most without leaving much of a mark.

    In a soft, solemn voice, she promised him, “The next time you come near me, I’m going to leave a mark on you. Think of how many you left on me, Uncle, and know that I mean it. Sincerely.”

    She watched him pull away before she closed the door gently. Then she turned around and leaned against it. Her lids lowered, and she heaved out a harsh sigh. Then, slowly, she headed back down the hall, intent on a shower and at least a half pot of coffee. Maybe even the whole damn pot.

    It wasn’t until thirty minutes later when she was standing in front of the cabinet that she realized. Damn it. She’d forgotten to buy more coffee. With a groan, she bent over and let her head thunk against the counter. Damn it. She desperately needed her coffee.

    SOME days . . . Taige thought miserably as she climbed out of her car to see her uncle coming out of the Winn-Dixie. She almost climbed back into her Jeep, but the thought of retreating from him, even from an unwanted confrontation, ate at her. So instead of climbing back into the car, she locked the doors and pocketed her keys.

    “Just walk by him and don’t say a word,” she mumbled under her breath.

    Leon, though, couldn’t resist an audience. He’d always saved the beatings for private, but deriding her in front of others had been almost like a hobby to him. He reached out as she walked past. His skeletal white hand landed on her arm, and she doubted the people passing by could tell how he dug his fingers into her flesh.

    “It would seem as though it’s God’s will that you and I spend some time together today, my dear niece,” Leon said, lifting his voice so that it carried.

    He did have a compelling voice, almost mesmerizing. Taige could see why his church congregation was twice the size it had been ten years ago. When he wasn’t dealing with his niece, Leon had a charismatic quality that was undeniable. But Taige didn’t consider him the sharpest crayon in the box. After all, he honestly thought she would behave since she was surrounded by people.

    Jerking her arm back, she glared down her nose at him. “Maybe the Almighty is putting you in my way just to see if I can withstand temptation.”

    Leon sighed and shook his head. “Beloved child, you never could withstand temptation. That is why you walk this evil road.”

    “Spare me.” Rolling her eyes, she went to push past him. She glanced around, trying to keep it casual, and she saw easily five people pretending not to watch him. Apparently Leon realized he had a good audience, because he wasn’t going to let her push him aside so easily.

    His pale hand closed around her arm, and bony white fingers once more dug into tender flesh. “You can’t keep walking this evil road, Taige. It will destroy you—and everyone you touch.”

    Without missing a beat, she tossed back, “Oh, yeah? It hasn’t destroyed you yet, and I keep waiting for that.”

    With a theatrical sigh, he shook his head. “You would even bring down destruction on a man of God, if you could. Are you so far gone that I cannot reach you?”

    “Shit. Are we back to that song and dance again?” Dropping her voice, Taige leaned in and said softly, “Are you so damn stupid that you’ve already forgotten what I said I’d do? Take your hand off of me, Uncle. Now. Or you just might have to say this week’s sermon through a straw.”

    He smiled. It was faint, there and then gone again, and nobody but Taige had seen it. Slowly, he let go of her arm. “Your reckoning is coming, girl. Coming fast.”

    “No faster than yours, Carson.”

    The voice from behind her was both welcome and unwanted. As Leon’s hand fell away, she turned to see Cullen standing there, his thumbs hooked in his waistband, legs spread wide, and his eyes narrowed on Leon’s face. He looked like a boxer ready to brawl, she thought. She stared at him, but he hadn’t so much as looked at her yet.

    No, he was totally focused on Leon. He closed the distance between them and stared down at the shorter, skinnier man. In his youth, Leon had probably had a strong, wiry build. She knew well enough just how strong he was, but all the years he’d spent practicing his fire and brimstone spiel had softened his body, and now, standing in front of Cullen Morgan, he looked weak, almost