She nervously glanced to Hush and Cowboy, who were watching us like we were on some fucked-up reality show. “Would… would you like to eat also? I… I am used to cooking for many people. I do not know smaller-sized recipes.”

Hush and Cowboy glimpsed over at me, and I flicked my chin, telling them they could stay. This was the first time she’d really spoken to anyone outside me. It would be good for her to get used to my brothers.

Cowboy threw her a grateful smile. “Sure, darlin’. I could eat.”

Hush tipped his beer neck in thanks.

Lilah placed the skillet on the steel countertop and set to working in a fucking flurry of activity. Hush threw me a beer, so I joined my brothers at the table. They tried to talk to me, but I couldn’t hear them over watching Lilah’s face. She loved this shit. It was the first time she wasn’t playing with her hand, tightening her headdress or running that tongue of hers around her lips.

An hour later, we sat down to steak, potatoes, gravy—the works—and Lilah sat beside me, empty-handed.

“Where’s your food?” I asked.

Her head shot up. “I cannot eat with you.”

Hush and Cowboy stopped stuffing their faces and stared at her. Her eyes were downcast again.

“Why can’t you eat, darlin’? Makes no sense when you’ve spent all that time preparing it,” Cowboy asked.

“Women do not eat with men. I must eat later, in solitude. Mae prepares food for Maddie and me. In the meantime, I shall make sure you have everything you need.”

“You ate in the diner with me all those weeks ago,” I said, confused.

“No, I took a bite. I was afraid I would be punished if I did not. It is not proper for me to join you.”

The crashing of my cutlery echoed around the large kitchen, and Lilah stiffened and closed her eyes, mumbling out a quiet prayer.

“Lilah?” I said tightly, my voice sharp as a blade.

She flinched, and I almost lost my shit. I hated it when she did that.

“Lilah!”

Lilah’s head turned slowly to meet my gaze. “Go fix yourself a plate.”

“But—”

“Lilah! Go fix yourself a fuckin’ plate!”

Lilah immediately slid off her seat and got some damn food. A stupidly small amount, but at least it was something. When she sat down, her eyes focused on the plate. Hands clasped together and head bowed, she mumbled a prayer under her breath and quickly started to eat.

I felt like shit watching her look so small, but every time I thought I was getting a handle on where she came from under that wrinkled dick of a prophet, she’d do something else that had me spitting mad, and I would get pissed and scare the fuck outta her all over again.

I felt like we were never moving forward. That cult, her complete brainwashing always pulling her back.

The silence around the table was deafening. Cowboy cleared his throat and said, “Lilah, this is fuckin’ incredible. Your purdy ass better be cooking again soon.”

Lilah looked up as if in shock.

“Yeah, woman, best steak I ever had,” Hush added.

Tears were building in Lilah’s eyes and her bottom lip began to tremble.

“Sweet cheeks?” Lilah finally looked at me and I lifted my full fork. “You wanna cook again for Hush and Cowboy?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Good. But you fuckin’ eat with us too,” I said, and I saw a tear finally spill down her cheek.

“Thank you,” she said so quietly I almost missed it. My gut clenched and I wanted to fuckin’ pick up her slim ass and carry her to my bed.

And not for sex. Shock-fuckin’ horror. I just wanted her to feel worthy. I mean, fuck, she was more than shitting worthy, stunning, a damn sweetheart, and she could cook like Paula Dean.

Hush got up from his seat and went to the fridge, pulling out a Bud. He popped the top, then slammed it down in front of Lilah. Lilah stared at the bottle, obviously confused.

“Beer,” Hush said. “Goes fuckin’ perfect with steak.”

She looked to me, and I said, “By the balls, Li. Life by the balls.”

She offered a timid smile, lifted the bottle slowly to her lips, tried the beer, spat it out, laughed about it, and damn near crushed my whore heart.

She’d tried it.

Hated it.

But fuckin’ took life by the balls.

*****

Lilah wiped the last of the countertops with Lysol, then turned to me. She’d been real quiet all night but had answered Hush and Cowboy when they spoke to her, listened and laughed at things they said. It was the most normal thing we’d done since I’d started teaching her this life shit.

“You hitting the hay?” I asked, seeing it was real late.

“Can I go to the river to pray first?” she asked, hopeful. I nodded. Walking to the exit, Lilah followed behind.

The river to fucking pray. It was every night. She went there every night, throwing herself on the ground, speaking in tongues, and every night, I watched her from the bank as she went into that water—fully clothed—and when she came out, she was always calmer, happier… cleansed she would say. That bitch’s faith was her everything. Ain’t nothing was gonna change it.

We walked to the river in silence. I sat down, my back leaning against a rock, and pulled out a smoke. I pointed to the patch of dirt she always prayed at. “Have at it, sweet cheeks. I’ll wait here.”

Normally, Lilah would go straight there, but tonight she hovered. Lighting up my smoke, I glanced up at her, eyebrow raised.

“May I sit?” Lilah asked and pointed beside me.

I nodded. Tucking her dress in at the back, she sat beside me, her vanilla smell beating off the smoke and filling my nose.

Why the fuck did she always smell of vanilla?

“You good, Li?” I asked when she did nothing but watch the flow of the river, only lifting her head to watch the stars.

“You let me eat with you,” she hushed out in a tiny voice.

Pulling hard on my smoke to stop a lump building in my throat, I blew it out slowly, trying to keep from losing it. “You cook, you sit with us, and you eat with us. Easy.”

“But you let me eat with you,” she stressed, and I saw more tears fall down her cheeks. She was looking at me like she ain’t ever seen me before. Like I was something special and not some man slut forced to take care of her. “Ky…” She went on. “No man has ever let me do this before.”