Page 12 of Untouchable
“If I told you that Joseph Clancy had given Gideon Marlowe money to purchase one of the daughters, what would you say?”
“Not the first I’d heard of that. Which one? Jossilyn, I suppose, since she’s the one in trouble. Let me make some calls, and I’ll get back to you tomorrow. See if I can’t figure out if he’s still got a hard-on for the girl or not.”
“Thanks, Morris, I’d appreciate that. How receptive do you think the Senator would be if I made contact with him?” Most men would do anything to protect their children; politicians are a different breed.
“Wait until I’ve got a bead on the son, figure out what he’s up to.” After agreeing, we hang up, and I look up the address for the other Marlowe women to see if they’ve been up to trouble or not.
My email alerts me to the notification from the warden about Gideon’s correspondence, and I get so lost in reading the things he’s received. Most from old parishioners in support of him, but some from his wife and daughters. A few others from cults like his, and then just what I’m looking for—a letter addressed to Gideon from a JCJ.Joseph Clancy, Jr.
Everything is subtly worded, referring to Jossilyn as a piece of property rather than a young woman, mentioning the number of years he’s been living off-property, and wanting to regain access. It’s fucking ridiculous, and they’re idiots for believing someone won’t see through this bullshit.
I’m so deep into reading the filth sent to this man who uses religion to justify abuse that I don’t hear Joss come up behind me until I feel her hand on my shoulder and her body sliding into my lap.
“Those are from the prison?” Closing the laptop, I give her my full attention. “He hates me, too?” Her tone is unreadable.
“I don’t know, but Porter gave me some information, and I’m running it down. The sooner I find this asshole, the sooner you’ll be free from danger.” The only thing I genuinely care about right now.
“I miss them sometimes, you know.” Guilt swamps her. It’s evident in the sheen of tears in her eyes, the slump of her shoulders. She just looks defeated. “I know they aren’t good people, but they’re my family, and I miss having a family.”
Lifting her chin with a gentle touch, I wait for her to meet my eyes. “You can miss them, you can love them, you can even have a relationship with them if you want, Joss. But don’t forget, you still have Sage, Magnolia, and Cage.” Her eyes brighten slightly. “Ena and your brothers. Me.” She sighs and sinks into my chest. “You’ll always have family, pup. Just because some aren’t blood, doesn’t mean the love isn’t there.”
“I know you’re right, it’s just been so hard. I’ve isolated myself because having my heart ripped out from betrayal isn’t something I ever want to feel again.” I turn her completely; her legs straddle my thighs and nestle her right up against me.
“Nobody in their right mind would cause you any kind of distress, and if they do, they’ll have me to deal with.” Pulling her closer, I slant my lips over hers. Slowly, at first, our lips meld into each other before I lick across the seam of her mouth until she lets me in.
Cotton candy explodes on my tongue. The sweetness of her has me groaning and my dick eagerly growing in search of her heat, but I know she’s not ready for that just yet. My angelic little pup needs more time to realize I’m not going anywhere and that she’ll always be my priority in life.
CHAPTER9
Jossilyn
The threat became more real when I realized Braxton was looking into my family. I’ve always considered the possibility that they would come after me, but until I saw letters to my father on Braxton’s laptop screen, I don’t think it hit me just how close to right I could be.
I’ve spent years feeling shame over missing my parents and sisters, people who were cruel to me almost my entire life. I shouldn’t miss those kinds of relationships, yet I do, and the guilt I feel is suffocating. It’s why I’ve always kept a distance between me and Sage. If she ever found out, she’d never forgive me. She’d never understand.
Not even my brothers know what I think about when I give myself the time to remember the past. It wasn’t always so terrible. We used to have love and hope in our home. Laughter and compassion. I don’t know when it changed or why; it was a slow shift that often still feels surreal.
Every day, I wake up, and I feel resentment for how our lives turned out. The fear we lived in and the faith I lost. Unlike Sage, I’ve never been able to go back to church. I can’t pray. Believing in a higher power has left me feeling adrift for so long.
Writing became the outlet I needed. At first, I just wanted to tell my story and talk about my life. Speak my truth, and the research into other religious factions like ours led me to learn about other girls in similar situations. When I realized how little the world knew about the horrors communities like ours experienced, publishing was a choice I couldn’t say no to.
I fell in love with writing after that; only now, I want to tell fictional tales of love and happily ever afters because don’t we all deserve that?
“Your table is ready.” The hostess smiles at us. Braxton leads me behind her with a hand on my back. The touch is warm and comforting.
Our table is in the back and off to the side, giving us a view of the intimately lit restaurant. Seating isn’t too close together, so you can converse without overhearing others, and it’s surprisingly quiet for how busy it is.
Sliding into the booth on one side, I’m surprised when Braxton follows me in, thanking the hostess before she leaves. Turning his body to face me, his intelligent eyes travel up and down my body before he wraps one hand around the back of my neck and sets the other on my thigh.
“You were pretty lost in thought on the way down here.” It’s not an accusation; the concern reflected in his tone is sincere. “Anything you want to share with me?”
“Everything is so…confusing.”
“How so?” I shrug. I don’t know how to explain without sounding ungrateful for the life I’ve built for myself. “I’m not going to judge you, pup.”
Tilting my head, I ask, “Why do you call me pup?” I’ve always loved it, but I’ve never asked about it.
I feel his thumb rubbing along the side of my throat, and I turn into his touch. “When we first met, you were a bundle of energy, curiosity, and constant movement. Do you remember?” I nod. It was hard to sit still when I had so much I wanted to see, but then I became afraid, and all I wanted to do was hide. “You reminded me of a puppy. Eager, intelligent, and a little scared of your own shadow. You know I say it with affection, right?”