Jamey
“Jack, take the boy upstairs. Mary Frances, you and Louisa, wait down here,” Pastor Carl ordered. “George will be back in a minute.”
The man picked Jamey up and carried him out the kitchen and up the stairs. Jamey could vaguely hear his mother, murmuring, “This is for your own good, we’re saving you, son, we really are.” He could still hear her crying when Jack set him down on the floor in his bedroom.
“Get down on your knees, boy, and start praying to the Lord,” Jack growled as he shoved Jamey down.
Jack tried to stop the orange-and-white cat from scurrying inside but it was too fast. The man moved toward it, but the cat hissed at him and bared its teeth. He left the room, muttering sodomite, sodomite, sinner, repent, and slammed the door shut. Jamey heard him turn the lock. Nev
