Mercy closed her open mouth with a snap. ‘Pastor had kids before he adopted DJ?’
Gideon’s brows rose. ‘Pastor adopted DJ after Waylon died? Interesting. I mean, Pastor had always spoiled DJ, but DJ was Waylon’s son. That’s what DJ stood for, he told me once. He was Waylon Jr.’
Sasha tilted her head, puzzled. ‘How do you get “DJ” from “Waylon Jr.”?’
Gideon waved a hand impatiently. ‘Double-you-jay was too hard to say, so they called him DJ.’
Sasha shook her head. ‘Okay.’
Gideon reached around Daisy to tug on Sasha’s ponytail fondly. ‘Don’t think too much. Most of the names in Eden were strange. Point is, DJ was not Pastor’s biological son.’
‘Yeah,’ Mercy said, ‘but after Waylon died, Pastor adopted him. He moved in with Pastor and everything.’
‘What was Pastor’s name?’ Tom asked.
Mercy and Gideon stared at each other. ‘I have no idea,’ Mercy said. ‘He was always just Pastor.’
Gideon dropped his gaze to Brutus, petting her batlike ears. ‘I don’t remember, but I heard it. DJ might even have told me. He was four years older than me, but he’d play with me sometimes. Teach me stuff.’ His expression shifted, then paled. ‘Oh,’ he breathed. ‘Until I was nine. After that, he’d shove me away and bully me. Gave me a black eye once. I thought it was because I was a little kid and he was finally a teenager, but . . . he changed. He got . . . mean.’
Mercy immediately understood. ‘When he turned thirteen.’
Rafe slumped in his chair. ‘Maybe he was also abused.’
‘He was Edward’s apprentice,’ Gideon murmured. ‘Same as me. So yes. It’s likely.’
‘But no excuse,’ Irina said harshly. ‘We can pity the boy who was abused, but we cannot excuse the man that boy became.’
‘No. We can’t.’ Mercy suddenly felt so tired she thought she’d fall over. ‘I hope we’re done, Tom. I can’t think anymore and Farrah’s already asleep.’
It was true. Farrah had fallen asleep, her head on André’s shoulder.
Tom checked the time and winced. ‘I’m sure I’ll have more questions for you later, but this is enough for me to get started. Thank you both. I know this wasn’t easy for either of you.’
She and Gideon just nodded, both of them having hit the wall.
‘I’ll take you back to our place,’ Rafe said. ‘Daisy, can Farrah and André have the top floor?’ At Daisy’s nod, he turned to Mercy, looking as exhausted as she felt. ‘You can bunk with Sasha.’
Irina sprang to her feet, pulling Karl up to his. ‘We will pack up this food. You will all take some.’ She pointed to Tom. ‘Even you.’
He smiled up at her. ‘Thank you, Irina. I’d love that.’
Mercy stood, then groaned. ‘Dammit.’
Farrah blinked up at her sleepily. ‘What?’ She looked around, abruptly alert, then socked André in the shoulder. ‘You let me fall asleep?’
‘You needed it,’ André said affectionately. ‘And no, you didn’t snore. This time.’
She gave him the evil eye, then focused on Mercy. ‘Dammit, what?’
‘I forgot about that interview. The one you set up, Daisy.’
‘We moved it to tomorrow evening,’ Daisy said uncertainly. ‘That way you can figure out what you want to say. Today was too emotional in every way. I hope I didn’t overstep.’
Mercy’s knees wobbled as relief swamped her. ‘No, you didn’t. Thank you, Daisy. I don’t think I could have managed that tonight.’ After the day’s sorrow and fear and the walk down the haunted lane of Eden, the sexual assault video felt oddly . . . surreal. Like it hadn’t happened to her at all. Which was ridiculous, of course. It had happened to her, but the memory felt numb, like when an ER doctor had numbed her finger with novocaine before stitching up a bad cut. Kind of a distant throbbing. She’d been able to watch her finger tap the table and not feel it at all. That was how the memory seemed.
Which was all wrong for what she now knew she wanted to say. ‘I want to do the interview, but with the video being treated as only one part of a whole.’
Daisy tilted her head. ‘I don’t follow you.’
Mercy’s lips tipped up sadly. ‘The video represents less than five minutes of my life. Devastating and humiliating and damaging minutes, but not the worst I’ve experienced by far. I won’t talk about Eden, not if the FBI is still hoping to keep Pastor and the others unaware while they investigate. But I will say that the assault on that video wasn’t the first in my life. And that I wouldn’t have survived any of it without a therapist and the support of good people, whether I welcomed them at the time or not. There are other victims out there, other people who’ve been hurt who don’t have anyone. People who might be so alone that they give up. I don’t want this to simply be me clearing my name or turning public opinion in my favor. I want anyone hurting to know where to get help, and I need time to gather some resources to share. I assume you all can help me with this?’ She glanced around the table, realizing she had cops, a retired nurse in Irina, a social worker in Sasha, a marketing mogul in Karl, and a radio personality in Daisy, who could give the message even more reach. If they couldn’t help her, they’d know who could.
Gideon looked up at her from where he still sat, his eyes wet. ‘You don’t have to do this,’ he whispered, but there was pride mixed with the tears.
She walked to his chair and stroked a hand over his hair. ‘Yeah, I kind of do. Mama died so that I could be free. So, I’m going to be free. That can’t happen if I let this video or fear of Ephraim Burton keep me chained. She wouldn’t want that. It’s my turn to be brave, brother.’
In a fluid movement that stole her breath, Gideon was on his feet and she was in his arms. He was sobbing – silently, but so hard that his body shook with it. Mercy closed her eyes and clung, vaguely aware of scraping chairs and fading footsteps as the kitchen cleared, leaving them alone to weep and mourn the loss of their mother, of their childhoods, of the time together that they’d lost.
‘I missed you,’ he finally said, brokenly. ‘God, Mercy, I missed you.’
She squeezed hard. ‘I missed you, too. But I’m here now.’
He lifted his head, his face wrecked, but smiling. ‘You are. Because you’re already brave. Don’t ever think otherwise.’
It was exactly what she’d needed to hear. ‘Thank you.’