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SOUNDTRACK: The Story I’ll Tell by Maverick City Music and Naomi Raine

~ SAM ~

Suddenly, I couldn’t hold onto any of it anymore. I couldn’t fucking contain it.

Every unfair moment, every twisted truth, every injustice—and every little thing I’d done wrong all washed over me in a tidal swell of rage I’d been trying to ignore for months.

I threw the fucking phone, and fucking bellowed the rage that swelled in my chest. I swore and cursed and screamed at God because He could have done something to get us through this.

“You say you’re in control,” I panted, pacing my living room, clawing hands through my hair. “You could have changed any one of these things and we wouldn’t be here. But here we fucking are! And you want me to trust? You want me to give? You want me to care more about her than I do about myself, while You let it all fall apart? What the fuck am I supposed to do to take care of her from fucking prison!?”

My neighbors would hear me and think I was back on drugs again, but I couldn’t find it in me to care. I screamed. I swore the darkest curses I knew .

I fell down on the floor in the middle of my living room, hands over my head and roared into my carpet so hard I saw stars and my whole body shook.

Over and over.

All the anger. All the injustice. All the shit I was to blame for. Every last thing—I said it all out loud.

“…I wanted to take care of her! I wanted to help—I tried! I kept my dick in my pants and I helped her even when I didn’t want to walk away and we still fucking got here! Why? What was the point? She thinks I’m one of them now! And so do they! How the hell do you get honored in that? And now her fucking father is calling me while she won’t take my calls, what the fuck?!...”

Fear and rage did a tug of war with my heart—one minute I roared about the injustice of it all, the next I’d remember her and how delighted she was when I hunted her and wonder if I was sitting here, dying inside, over a woman who only wanted what I could do.

Had she only wanted Cain? Like that fucking doctor said, had she wanted me to manipulate and dominate her because her brain was so messed up it was all she knew? And now that I wouldn’t be able to because I’d be locked up, she was done?

Had she never loved me? Was I just a thrill?

Had I been a fool?

Or did she think I’d broken her heart and now she was on that spiral again? Except now I couldn’t catch her in it and save her from herself. Save her from the men who would actually exploit her vulnerability?

I lost my breath, terror coursing through me, begging God to keep her safe from her own stupid, self-loathing choices and from those assholes who’d use her again and then…

For a moment I saw it, and it froze me.

Somewhere, right now, she was alive and breathing and convinced I was a liar. Convinced the one person she’d opened up to had used her. And I knew… She was out there wishing for death. And free to do whatever the fuck she wanted. She wasn’t on trial.

If she hadn’t already, she’d soon be back in the dark web and find some truly homicidal prick who would take her without a hesitation. I’d lose her and my freedom .

I used to believe you couldn’t be good in this world because nice guys always finished last. Then I met God and learned strength was in being secure, no matter what the other guys did.

But this…

This was so fucking unfair.

I tipped my head up and stared at the ceiling, unseeing, and spewed out every hateful, angry, fearful word. Every single thing that had happened that led us here—I knew where I was wrong. I’d never shied away from that. But so much of this was out of my control. So many players and events I couldn’t affect. I was helpless. A helpless, crying, screaming fucking ball of rage.

Do you care, God? Do you even fucking care?!

And the first thing that popped into my head was Monk.

My brother.

Wiping tears from my face, I patted myself down until I found my legit phone and called Monk… who didn’t answer.

I slumped again, but I hung up and texted him because I needed to talk to someone.

ME: It’s all falling apart. I’m falling apart.

A few seconds later the phone rang and I almost wept with relief.

“Sorry, brother. I wasn’t alone and I needed to get out so I could talk privately. It’s bad, huh?”

So I told him everything. Every. Fucking. Thing.

How it started—though he knew that story. Where we went. Every detail of the times I spent with her and away from her, including meeting her dad, and strangling Jeremy. I laid out every fucking detail then I sat down on the couch and dropped my head into my hand.

“Monk… I think… I don’t think God’s going to fix this. I don’t know why. I don’t know what it’s going to prove. But everything is going wrong.”

My brother sighed and I heard him breathe a prayer. Then he swallowed.

“Sam, if I could do anything to take this away, I would. But you’re right. Details… they don’t look good. All I know is, God’s way more powerful than those fucking lawyers, so the question isn’t that.”

“Then what is it? I’m losing my shit here, Monk. ”

“You tell me what you’d say.”

I blinked. “What?”

“C’mon, Sam. You’ve been counselling guys going through this shit for years now. What would you say if you sat across the table from a guy who was about to lose his family and his house and his life?”

I stared at the carpet and swallowed hard. “I’d say, either God’s got you in that place for a good reason that you’ll figure out later… or He’ll take you out of it when the time is right. You can trust that.”

“That’s right, brother. See, you didn’t need me. You already know. You aren’t confused. You’re scared. Take that to God.”

“But—”

“Sam… I’m praying. We all are. We’re praying you get free. But sometimes God decides to protect us when we’re walking through the dark, instead of taking the dark away. You know that.”

I almost laughed. The irony. “Yeah, I know that,” I said, uncertain if my voice was hoarse from laughter or tears.

Then I sat there on my couch, tears running down my face while the man who was more father to me than my own father had ever been prayed for my life. And my safety. And my clarity. And my fear.

And the longer I sat there, the more I realized… These circumstances weren’t changing. I could either panic and do something stupid out of fear… or I could take God at His word and walk into whatever was coming with my head high because I wasn’t the fucking monster they were all trying to make me out to be.

“I love her, Monk,” I breathed when he was done. “I really love her.”

“I know. But a husband… and husband’s supposed to love like Christ loved the church. You remember that, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And what does it say?”

I blew out a breath, then swallowed hard. “Love her as Christ loved the church… and gave Himself up for her.”

“That’s right. And it’s a huge fucking responsibility. Why do you think I never remarried?”

“Because you’re a Monk?” I jibed, wiping my eyes .

“No! Because I don’t think I’m capable of that. So the question is, Sam, are you?”

Wow. Okay. “Well, I guess we’re going to find out.”

“Yes, we are, Son. Yes, we are.”

“Thank you, man.”

“Thanks for trusting me. I’m praying.”

“I know.”

When I got off the phone I sat there.

…I’m not capable of that. So, the question is, Sam, are you?

Me staring at her father and righteously pinning him down.

Do you want to help her because she needs it? Or are you trying to manipulate her to get her to do what you want?

I sat back against the couch and sighed.

I loved her. I really loved her. Whether she loved me right now or not… the only thing I could was what was best for her. And hope it was enough. Whether she could see it, or not.

My conscience was clear in front of these smug bastards. I hadn’t hurt her. I had been helping her. And if they couldn’t see that there was nothing I could do except keep loving her and not make this shitstorm worse.

I had to take care of her especially when she wasn’t taking care of herself.

I am the best man for her. I’m her fucking husband.

I took a deep breath. It was time to fight. No more tiptoeing around everything, trying to keep her happy with me and keep myself free.

Everyone in her life only ever fought for her when it suited them. When they got something out of it.

Well… I’d show her what real love looked like. Selfless love. Because then, if I was gone, at least she’d know. And maybe then, if I was gone these other assholes would stop getting their fangs into her.

Maybe.

Please, God… make it so.

I stood up. I felt shaky. But not as scared. I looked around until I found my burner phone laying on the floor under the shelf. The screen was cracked, but it was still working, thank God.

I had shit to do, and a wife to save from her demons.

And not a lot of time to do it.