Through a Glass, Darkly (Assassins of Youth MC #1) by Layla Wolfe

definitely saw them put someone rolled in a rug into the back of a truck and drive off.”
    “So you think instead of sending these guys to Texas they’re just offing them?”
    My heart raced, but there was no turning back now. I had no reason to trust Bronson Carradine, but then again, I had no reason to trust Allred. He was planning to take my little girl and seal her to that repulsive Orson Ream. I may not be able to escape, but I could certainly make life a little hard for Allred Lee Chiles, Prophet of the Church of Good Fortune. Nonprofit church, my butt. Allred had many enormous offshore holdings, and every penny in tithes that was taken from the common man went right into his pocket. He doled out those saltbox houses like a cheapskate—and we didn’t even own them. He did.
    “Yes, I definitely think there’s some funny business. I don’t know where they’re taking the bodies, but I talked to one of Reed Smoot’s wives not long ago. She hasn’t heard from him since he ‘left for Texas’ either. They want to marry off my daughter!” I blurted out.
    Bronson sat up, alert. “How old is she?” he asked softly.
    “Fifteen.” I was afraid I’d start blubbering again, like I had when telling Gideon, so I gulped the rest of my soda pop.
    “Holy shit,” muttered Bronson. “You know, that sort of shit shouldn’t be allowed to happen. Not if you don’t want it to.”
    “Oh, some people want it, don’t get me wrong. Some people think they’re doing God’s will, and so on. Mr. Carradine, my daughter wants a life on the outside, and she should have it. Just because her mother was stupid enough to be dragged off to an insulated compound like Cornucopia doesn’t mean she should be stuck there the rest of her life. She should not pay for my mistakes.”
    Bronson jerked his head. “That kid sitting over there? He’s even going to computer school, adult ed. He was dumped by the side of the road years ago.”
    “Yes!” I pointed at the agent. “That’s the sort of thing that goes on. I can’t be the savior of everyone, but I sure as hell can save my own daughter! My sister wife Kimball feels the same way I do. She has three children, still very young, but she lives in constant fear her oldest boy will be driven out and dumped somewhere too.”
    Gideon and Jonah left the bar then. Gideon only cast me the shortest of glances. I couldn’t read his expression. It amazed me how much this pained me, watching the door hit him on his way out. It must’ve tied into my own feelings of abandonment, when Field had left me so suddenly when a loader had rolled downhill and smashed him like a bug. The piece of heavy equipment, so witnesses told me, had zigged and zagged as if it had a mind of its own, heading straight for Field. Everyone else had time to get out of the way—not him. His chest was caved in like a two-dimensional piece of cardboard.
    Bronson must’ve seen me looking so forlorn, as he asked, “And what about that Gideon Fortunati? He’s doing more than just running the Altar of Sacrifice Mine.”
    “Oh, he’s just selling Allred guns.”
    I wasn’t thinking. I swear I wasn’t thinking. Not about the guns, anyway. I was too busy watching the swagger of Gideon’s sweet, sweet ass as he vanished, probably forever.
    “What?” Bronson’s voice went even lower. “You say guns?”
    “No! I didn’t mean guns! I meant tons , tons of gold and silver he’s taken out of the mine.”
    But Bronson wasn’t buying my feeble save. He rubbed his hands together like he was set to chow down on a big dinner. His eyes even glowed with a voracious gleam that I didn’t like one bit. “And what kind of guns, may I ask? How many?”
    I’d already said too much. “I want to tell you something, Mr. Carradine.” Bronson listened now, his ears perked like a rabbit’s. Of course he thought I was going to tell him more about Gideon. “St. Augustine was always troubled by a conviction that the desire in his spirit