Although Maddie was twenty-one years in age, she had the timid disposition of a small child. Brother Moses was a harsh disciplinarian. He fulfilled his role as a blessed elder of Prophet David with the utmost of authority. Maddie had always been given the sternest of lessons. It had left her meek and weak. When Bella died and Mae left us alone in commune, she imploded, barley speaking, barely eating, existing like a soul adrift in purgatory.
Beauty flashed Maddie a huge smile and she laughed. “Well, my name’s Beauty now, darlin’. Was born Susan-Lee, but who the fuck wants that name?”
“Then you renamed yourself Beauty? I did not know this,” Mae asked, humor on her face. “I am still learning the outsider ways, I suppose.”
Beauty shrugged. “Was a pageant queen my whole life, real Toddlers and Tiaras shit that my momma forced me to do. Y’all are looking at a former Junior Miss Texas. When I met Tank, it’s the name he gave me, and I was never Susan-Lee again. I’d just run outta a national competition, still wearing my crown and sash, when he almost ran me down on his Harley, out on a ride after a Klan rally. Got on the back of his bike and never looked back.”
We all stared at Beauty with blank faces. I had no idea what she’d just said, her references lost on me. Beauty looked to Letti in confusion at our blank reactions. Letti said nothing, just shrugged.
Beauty pulled out a chair and explained, “Out here, and especially in Texas, we have competitions that judge women on their beauty, poise, talent, and all that fun stuff. The most beautiful girl wins.”
Shock ran through me and I saw that same reaction mirrored on my sisters’ horrified expressions. “You have competitions to judge beauty?” I asked in astonishment. “But it is sinful. It is wrong! Excessive beauty can corrupt people’s sensibilities. Excessive beauty is a curse, not a blessing.”
Beauty pointed at me and said, “You’re preaching to the converted, Blondie. Those pageants are torture camps covered with glitter and hairspray!”
A loud knock suddenly rapped on the door, and my gaze slammed to the closed piece of wood.
“I’m fuckin’ doing it, ain’t I?” a deep male voice said, and I instantly recognized who it was. “I was sleeping off my fifth of Beam and a night of long, hard-assed fucking when you dragged me up here for this shit, so give me a motherfuckin’ break!”
Mae frowned and Letti ripped open the door, revealing Ky and Styx on the other side, Styx with his hands on Ky’s back, pushing him forward. They both froze and looked our way, all of us with our attention firmly fixed on them.
Ky shrugged off Styx, but Styx pushed him forward.
“What is happening?” Mae asked, concern written all over her face as she stared at Styx. Ky’s eyes met mine, but his face was anything but happy.
I mentally shrugged. At least we both feel the same.
Styx focused on Mae and with his hands began to sign something. I lowered my head, breaking Ky’s gaze, until Mae abruptly got to her feet and signed something back.
Styx’s jaw locked and Mae’s feet marched toward me. “Lilah?” she asked, and I cautiously lifted my head. “Do you want to go with Ky?”
Dipping my eyes again, I replied, “I will do whatever is commanded of me.”
Mae sighed, crouching to kneel before me, and laid her hand on my shoulders. A loud cough sounded from across the room, and Mae turned her head around and Styx signed something again.
Mae dropped her head and slowly stood. “Lilah. Just go with Ky. He will not hurt you.”
I nodded my head and stood. Ky turned, muttering something to himself that I could not make out, and barged past Styx, fleeing down the stairs. I followed behind until we both ended up outside, the morning breeze immediately caressing my skin.
Ky stood with his back to me, and I stayed silent.
“Fucks sake!” he murmured to himself, then turned to face me. “What d’you wanna do?”
Eyes widening, I answered, “I do not know.”
“Fuckin’ perfect!” he said shortly and ran his hands through his messy blond hair. Then taking a thin piece of leather from the pocket of his pants, he began to wrap it around his hair, forming a low ponytail.
Try as I might, I could not pull my gaze from him. With his long blond hair, there was a danger that he might look feminine, but not Ky. He exuded extreme toughness like a shield yet had a kind enough face that you could not help but be drawn to his beauty.
Expressing a long breath, looking pale and tired, Ky dropped his chin and closed his eyes.
Looking around the vast and deserted yard, I asked, “Are you well, Ky? You seem to be battling with your health.”