Sinner. You’re a sinner boy, he hissed, the memory too real, and my heart sank to the ground. You need to purge the flames from your blood. You need to purge the evil from your dark soul.
I gasped for breath, and had to use my bike’s saddle for balance when I thought my legs would give out at the memory. I didn’t want to give in to the memory. I didn’t want to go back there. I didn’t want to see his fucking face in my mind. But what I wanted didn’t mean shit. Because he was always there. He always came for me. He never left me the fuck alone.
The roar of another Harley’s engine sounded behind me and I dropped my raised hands. I knew it was AK and Viking without even looking back. And they’d try to stop me. I knew they would, because they didn’t understand what would happen behind those wooden doors where no one else could see.
Pushing myself to stand, I stared up at the church again. Forcing my legs to move, I walked forward to the bottom of the steep steps. But I couldn’t go any further. I tried to force my feet to move, to make that first fucking step, but they didn’t. They wouldn’t. My pussy ass was too fucking afraid of facing what was behind those doors.
Lowering my head, I hit at my skull with the bottom of my palm. “Move!” I ordered myself. “Fucking move, you pussy!”
Unable to climb the steps, I began to pace the sidewalk. I walked back and forth, back and forth, my head becoming too full. Fucked up images in my mind. Warnings in my brain.
“They’ll hurt Maddie. They’re hurting Maddie,” I told myself. And the flames burned hotter in my veins.
I fought for air as I paced faster and pictured Maddie’s face again.
One way or another, I was getting her the fuck out.
Chapter Two
Maddie
For hours, I had been sitting tucked into the shadows, hidden behind the large white marble statue of Jesus.
I could not take being at the compound any longer, even though it was Lilah and Ky’s wedding day. I could not stand one more second of being trapped in that bedroom, staring out of the window, praying desperately for Flame to step out from the line of trees.
But he never did.
Closing my eyes, I pictured him diving in front of that bullet to save my life. Then all I could see was blood.
Allowing my eyes to reopen, my head fell against the legs of the statue and my hand gripped over the empty ache in my chest. Instantly, my mind filled with him—dark eyes, dark short beard, slightly crooked nose and his huge tattooed body standing protectively under my window, blades in his hands.
I lost focus, staring at the hardwood floor of the church, but I lifted my head when my favorite sound began to play. The strings of a guitar echoed off the high walls. Then the soft keys of the piano joined the magical sound of the hymn that always made me smile. My hands began to slowly relax, and my body began to gently rock in time to the beat.
From where I sat, I could not see the choir, but I could hear them. It was why I came to Church. It was not for the religion, but for this madrigal music.
“This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.
This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.
This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.
Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine…”
My lips moved, silently mouthing the lyrics. But I would not sing. I could not say the words aloud. I would never dare sing. I had always been taught that singing was forbidden, a sin. But I could listen. I could listen and feel safe… feel a flicker of happiness, if only for a few short minutes while the sweet sound continued.
The hymn played on, and I smiled, until the last pretty lyric faded away...
“Every day, every day, I’m gonna let my little light shine…”
Exhaling a slow deep sigh, I leaned further into the legs of the statue, content to listen to the rehearsal of the gospel choir. But in the brief silence between hymns, a sound outside of the church could be discerned.
“Maddie!”
My body straightened at the harsh and guttural roar screaming my name. My heart began thundering in my ears.
“Maddie!” The shouter called out again. My hands began to shake. The choir’s questioning murmurs could be heard from upstairs on their balcony. Pastor James’ office door swung open. She came rushing out, tension on her face. Pastor James, the woman who had invited me and my sisters into her church without question. The woman who had married Lilah and Ky just hours before. And the woman who had returned to the church shortly after me, so that I would not be here alone.
I became as still as the statue beside me, my body frozen in terror. Pastor James headed my way, concern written all over her face.
She opened her mouth to speak, when the deafening sound of an engine boomed beyond the doors, followed by another scream.
“MADDIE!” This call was louder, more frantic.
A hand touched my shoulder. Crying out at this unexpected touch, I scampered backward until my body became wedged between the wall of the altar and the statue of Jesus. My knees automatically came up to my chest and my arms immediately wrapped around my legs. Pastor James’ hands flew into the air as her eyes fell upon me. “Maddie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you.”
I tried to breathe, tried to shake off the feeling of Pastor James’ scalding touch on my body. But just as I managed to fill my lungs with air, the desperate call sounded again.
“MADDIE!”
Pastor James jumped to her feet and looked to the open front doors. Throwing me a glance, she nervously commanded, “Stay here, Maddie.”