Righteous03 - The Wicked Read Free Page B

you’ve taken up with the Salt Lake Mormons. What does Jacob want?”
    “Jacob didn’t send me.”
    “The hell he didn’t. He’s the only one who knows where I am. He called and started hassling me about Word of Wisdom stuff.”
    “Okay, so he told me how to find you, but it’s true. I told him I was coming to find you and he just shrugged. He’s got bigger things to worry about than one loser of a brother.”
    “Yeah, like what?”
    “Like tracking down other losers, of course. The family is full of them.”
    A smile cracked his face and for the first time she saw the playful young boy she used to watch catching frogs down by the reservoir, who used to bury himself in the hay loft and hide, then jump out, screaming, when Jacob or Enoch came to feed the horses.
    She put a hand on David’s wrist. “Let me take you to Zarahemla. Jacob will be glad to see you. He loves you and it hurts him to see you like this.”
    “No, thanks.” He waved for another drink. “Getting kicked out of the church was the best thing that ever happened to me. I’m not about to get sucked back in.”
    “Nobody is trying to suck you back in. Come on, let’s get out of here. We can talk.”
    “About what?”
    “About getting you out of this lifestyle and back where you belong.”
    “Are you kidding me? I like this lifestyle. I’ve got a job driving delivery and nobody gives me crap. After work I come here and spend my money on beer and strippers and then I go home and sleep like a baby. I don’t think about God, or Jesus, or Joseph Smith, or any of that. And maybe I’m going to hell when I finally croak, but you know what? I’m good with that.”
    “And what about the drugs?” she asked. When David said nothing, she pressed, “David, I know. It’s not just pot is it? That’s poison. It will destroy you.”
    “What’s it to you? Why are you so damn preachy? You’re worse than Father, at least he doesn’t give me the puppy eyes.”
    “And that thing at the bus station in Vegas? You’re still bruised around the eyes.”
    David’s stare hardened. The stripper had come around the stage again, but this time he waved her away without a glance. “What, is he spying on me now? He wants to bring me back into his little cult, so he hires a couple of thugs to mug me and beat the shit out of me, then sends my sister out to give me a sad face once I’m softened up, is that it?”
    “David, please. I’m not here to talk about religion or the church or any of that. And Jacob doesn’t care about it either.”
    “Not what I heard. He’s Father’s numero uno now, isn’t he? And what about this other thing, the Zarahemla compound?”
    “Now who is spying on who?”
    “People talk.” He downed his drink, waved for another. A slur had begun to work its way into his speech. If what Fernie said was accurate, he’d go home and fill himself with worse things.
    “Exactly,” she said. “And that’s how we heard about what you’re going through. Look, we’re not building any sort of cult. I’m not even in the church anymore, remember? All I’m doing is trying to help one of my brothers, so he won’t be a Lost Boy anymore. Is that so bad?” She put her hand over his.
    “I’m not a Lost Boy.”
    “Well, someone who left, whatever. I know you’re not happy here, how could you be? Jacob could help, and he needs people like you.”
    “What do you mean, people like me? Where do I fit into his church?”
    “If everyone who cares jumps ship, anyone who thinks about it long and hard, rather than swallowing every bit of mumbo jumbo, what does that leave him with? Fanatics. People who think the world is coming to an end, the nuts and crazies. More self-proclaimed prophets.”
    “You left, didn’t you? Tell me, if it’s so wonderful, what’s up with that?”
    She nodded. It was a good point, and how could she explain it? There was too much pressure to marry some old guy with a dozen wives, and until Jacob could change the