prayer or laden with malice. Never again would Josh be subjected to one of his father's cold stares, which too frequently conveyed either disappointment or disgust, and always criticism.
Seven years ago, Josh's mother, Martha, had died with as little fanfare as that with which she had lived. Josh received the news that she had died instantly of a stroke while he was in New York, studying music at Juilliard. He never got to say goodbye. Her life had been so inconsequential that her death had barely caused a pause in the well-oiled operation of his father's ministry. When she died, Jackson had been actively expanding his ministry to cable television. He was driven, inexhaustible. Immediately following his wife's funeral, he had returned to his office to get in a few hours' work so that the day wouldn't be entirely wasted.
Josh had never forgiven his father for that particular display of insensitivity. That's why he didn't feel guilty now for the appetite that was making his stomach growl, even though he'd viewed his father's bloody corpse only hours ago.
That's also why he didn't feel guilty about committing adultery with his father's second wife. He reasoned that some sins were justified, although he had no scriptural reference to support that belief.
Ariel was only two years older than Josh, but as she came out of the bedroom dressed in an oversized T-shirt, her long hair held away from her face by barrettes, she looked several years younger than he. Her legs and feet were bare. "Did you order some dessert?"
Jackson always taunted her about her overactive sweet tooth and never let her indulge it without hassling her. "Chocolate layer cake," Josh told her.
"Yummy."
"Ariel?"
"Hmm?"
He waited until she turned to face him. "Only a few hours ago, you discovered your husband's body."
"Are you trying to spoil my appetite?"
"I guess I am. Aren't you the least bit upset?"
Her expression turned sulky and self-defensive. "You know how much I cried earlier."
Josh laughed without humor. "You've been crying on cue ever since that night you came to Daddy with a special prayer request for your little brother after he'd received a life sentence. You wrenched Daddy's heart and sang on his podium at the very next service.
"I've seen you be very effective with your tears. Others might mistake them as genuine, but I know better. You use them when it's convenient or when you want something. Never because you're sad. You're too selfish ever to feel sad. Angry and frustrated and jealous, maybe, but never sad."
Ariel had lost a lot of weight since marrying Josh's father three years earlier. Then she'd been rather plump. Her breasts were smaller now, but the areolas were still wide and the nipples large and protrudent. Josh hated himself for noticing them beneath her soft cotton T-shirt as she propped her hands on her hips.
"Jackson Wilde was a mean-spirited, spiteful, self-centered son of a bitch." Her blue eyes didn't blink once. "His death isn't going to spoil my appetite because I'm not sorry he's dead. Except for how it might effect the ministry."
"And you took care of that during the press conference."
"That's right, Josh. I've already laid the groundwork for continuing the ministry. Somebody around here should be thinking about the future," she added snidely.
As though suffering a splitting headache, Josh pressed the tips of his long, slender, musician's fingers against his hairline and squeezed his eyes shut. "Christ, you're cold. Always scheming. Always planning. Relentless."
"Because I've always had to be. I didn't grow up rich like you, Josh. You call your grandparents' place outside of Nashville a farm," She scoffed. "My family had a real farm. It was dirty and stank of manure. I didn't help groom fancy horses like you did only when you felt like it. Whether I wanted to or not, I had to weed the vegetable garden and shell peas and slop a hog so he'd be fat in November when we butchered him.
"I only
Seven years ago, Josh's mother, Martha, had died with as little fanfare as that with which she had lived. Josh received the news that she had died instantly of a stroke while he was in New York, studying music at Juilliard. He never got to say goodbye. Her life had been so inconsequential that her death had barely caused a pause in the well-oiled operation of his father's ministry. When she died, Jackson had been actively expanding his ministry to cable television. He was driven, inexhaustible. Immediately following his wife's funeral, he had returned to his office to get in a few hours' work so that the day wouldn't be entirely wasted.
Josh had never forgiven his father for that particular display of insensitivity. That's why he didn't feel guilty now for the appetite that was making his stomach growl, even though he'd viewed his father's bloody corpse only hours ago.
That's also why he didn't feel guilty about committing adultery with his father's second wife. He reasoned that some sins were justified, although he had no scriptural reference to support that belief.
Ariel was only two years older than Josh, but as she came out of the bedroom dressed in an oversized T-shirt, her long hair held away from her face by barrettes, she looked several years younger than he. Her legs and feet were bare. "Did you order some dessert?"
Jackson always taunted her about her overactive sweet tooth and never let her indulge it without hassling her. "Chocolate layer cake," Josh told her.
"Yummy."
"Ariel?"
"Hmm?"
He waited until she turned to face him. "Only a few hours ago, you discovered your husband's body."
"Are you trying to spoil my appetite?"
"I guess I am. Aren't you the least bit upset?"
Her expression turned sulky and self-defensive. "You know how much I cried earlier."
Josh laughed without humor. "You've been crying on cue ever since that night you came to Daddy with a special prayer request for your little brother after he'd received a life sentence. You wrenched Daddy's heart and sang on his podium at the very next service.
"I've seen you be very effective with your tears. Others might mistake them as genuine, but I know better. You use them when it's convenient or when you want something. Never because you're sad. You're too selfish ever to feel sad. Angry and frustrated and jealous, maybe, but never sad."
Ariel had lost a lot of weight since marrying Josh's father three years earlier. Then she'd been rather plump. Her breasts were smaller now, but the areolas were still wide and the nipples large and protrudent. Josh hated himself for noticing them beneath her soft cotton T-shirt as she propped her hands on her hips.
"Jackson Wilde was a mean-spirited, spiteful, self-centered son of a bitch." Her blue eyes didn't blink once. "His death isn't going to spoil my appetite because I'm not sorry he's dead. Except for how it might effect the ministry."
"And you took care of that during the press conference."
"That's right, Josh. I've already laid the groundwork for continuing the ministry. Somebody around here should be thinking about the future," she added snidely.
As though suffering a splitting headache, Josh pressed the tips of his long, slender, musician's fingers against his hairline and squeezed his eyes shut. "Christ, you're cold. Always scheming. Always planning. Relentless."
"Because I've always had to be. I didn't grow up rich like you, Josh. You call your grandparents' place outside of Nashville a farm," She scoffed. "My family had a real farm. It was dirty and stank of manure. I didn't help groom fancy horses like you did only when you felt like it. Whether I wanted to or not, I had to weed the vegetable garden and shell peas and slop a hog so he'd be fat in November when we butchered him.
"I only
Similar Books
The Secret Eleanor
Cecelia Holland
The Half Life of Stars
Louise Wener
Nationalism and Culture
Rudolf Rocker
The Man Who Collected Machen and Other Weird Tales
Mark Samuels
American Blood
Ben Sanders
Wolf's-head, Rogues of Bindar Book I
Chris Turner
Night Work
Thomas Glavinic
What an Earl Wants
Kasey Michaels
The Immortal Heights
Sherry Thomas
The Electrical Experience
Frank Moorhouse