𝑪𝑹𝒀 𝑴𝑬 𝑨 𝑹𝑰𝑽𝑬𝑹 (18+)

thirty-two • fear

"Is it alright if I hang out with you today? Just for a little bit. I can help clean or wipe down the windows. Anything to make myself useful." I played with the sleeve of my jacket and grimaced. I was going to regret this outfit later. It was freezing outside.

"You can sit and have a rest, the place is pretty spruced up today. Is everything alright? You look pale and you're—"

"Soaking wet, I know. You wouldn't happen to have a towel around here or something? One that doesn't reek of mildew preferably?" He laughed, "I'm afraid not. Come and sit down, you look a few seconds away from passing out."

I felt like it too.

I followed him up to the front bench and sat down slowly. The piano looked different. The instrument hadn't changed since I was a little girl but today it was shiny. This piano was brand new. "What happened to the old one?" I nodded my head toward the strange instrument and pastor Lowel sighed.

"I'm afraid that's your father's doing. I've never seen a man so angry before. It took reinforcements to calm him down," Pastor Lowel cringed at the memory and I felt my airways start to restrict.

"Why did they rush down here? Seems pretty serious if he went and destroyed his favorite piano." It was my favorite piano too but I was used to him taking things I loved away from me.

"Are you sure you—"

"Yes," I interrupted him. "I could use a little blind trust right about now."

He smiled apprehensively, "It seems like something went wrong with your father's accounts at the bank. He's lost a large sum of money that cannot be accounted for and he thinks—"

"He thinks Henry stole his money?" Pastor Lowel nodded slowly. "I tried to tell him that there may have been a mistake. I don't believe he would steal but you know how your father can be. He's not convinced," and he never would be. Not until Henry paid with blood. His entire family's blood.

"Does Henry know about this?" He would've kept it from Dean if he had but I was more worried about him than I was for his brother. Dean could handle himself and if it ever came down to it, he would fight like hell against my father. Henry on the other hand avoided all conflict and would easily wave a white flag in a fight than go against a larger—supported opponent but maybe I was wrong.

Maybe Henry had the same bloodthirsty recessive gene Dean carried. Instead of brandishing his ferocity like a badge he chose to lock it away because it reminded him of the parts he hated about himself. The very same parts he hated in Dean.

Maybe having the last name Ridden was a curse. A curse for violence and for the Ridden boys the first drop of blood spilled was a fulfilled prophecy. There was no way to really know Henry Ridden and as curious as I was, I didn't want this situation to be the one that brought that side out of him. I didn't want him to be just another crack in the glass.

"I'm not sure. As you know him and Dean left for Colorado. Your father went and checked his accounts with someone else by the name of uh—" He kissed his teeth, "Winslow Tally."

"He just got a job at the bank, didn't he? I overhead Clive's wife talking about him after church one day." She wasn't too pleased with him either. Too much stuttering she said, and he had a terrible shake of the hand. Nerves she called it, but she didn't like people being nervous around her or her husband's money.

"Yes, fresh out of college. He didn't stay in Meadowview though. Came back after his studies to help his parents."

I sighed, "As most kids usually do around here." The front doors to the church opened and a young couple stood waiting at the front step with warm smiles on their faces.