“Whatever,” he says, running a hand over his face. “The point is, I’m here. I’m risking my life for you, and all you can do is run after that pussy like his dick’s dipped in gold.”
“Excuse me? You knew I was with Cole. You know I love him. What the fuck am I supposed to do? Just forget?” I say, poking my finger in his chest.
He grabs my hand and twists just enough to cause a dull ache. “I don’t fucking give a shit, baby doll.”
Shocked, I stare at him mutely until he pushes me back. Stumbling, I clutch my wrist as he turns to the door, pausing to say, “Maybe you should be thinking about what you can do to please me, Lola. After all, I hold your life in my hands, don’t I?”
He slams the door shut behind him before I can respond, not that I know what to say, and I sink to the floor, my once dull headache now a sharp pulse. Fuck. Releasing my wrist, I stare at the red marks he left behind and raise my gaze to the door as his words ring out in the silence. What does he want from me? Why is he threatening me? Where’s the man I considered my friend? Is he buried under rage and self-loathing? Or did he even exist at all?
???
Enzo doesn’t come home and I am grateful because I couldn’t sleep, waiting for him to return and pick up where he left off. The situation transports me back to the days when I didn’t trust him enough to sleep in a room alone with him. Swell.
I debate searching out Cole for help but discard it because Cole is clearly a sore point, and I don’t want to rile the damn beast. Plus, what can he do? Until we can leave this place, we’re stuck. I’m stuck, and I have to figure out how to tame Enzo on my own.
I don’t think I can sleep with him, but maybe I can try to be more caring, more understanding, because what he’s being forced to do is clearly taking its toll, erasing who he used to be and creating something dark instead. I should be fighting for the friend I think exists below that darkness before it’s too fucking late.
To be fair, I have no idea what to do, but I know that I fucking hate Shepherd, and if there’s a way to bring him down, I’ll be the first in line.
I’m completely exhausted when I roll out of bed, and I make it to breakfast in time to grab something quickly, Enzo’s warnings about Cole inspiring me to keep my head down and avoid everyone.
After, I follow the flock toward the hall, dreading the next sermon. With a weary sigh, I find a place quickly and sit, staring straight ahead and once again avoiding the urge to look around. I’m so on edge that I could use even a glance from Cole to calm my nerves, but as Enzo said, someone is always watching.
I’m playing with my raggedy ass cuticles and bemoaning the lack of mani/pedis when someone sits down beside me. To my dismay, I see it's Cole from the corner of my eye. Fuck. What is he doing?
Refusing to look at him even if I desperately want to see his face, I inch away from him as much as I can, but I can’t move now. It would seem suspicious. Still, I don’t want Enzo to see me with him, but when I raise my eyes to find his boring into mine from the stage, I know it’s too late.
I shrug at him helplessly, but it doesn’t improve his mood, and I collapse against my seat when he looks away, both relieved and fucking terrified. The Enzo looking back at me didn’t even recognize me.
Marie, of course, settles on the other side of Cole and I sit rigidly, trying not to move or even fucking brush my arm against Cole, who says softly beside me, “What’s going on, Lola?”
“Nothing,” I whisper, my skin itchy at the thought that anybody could be watching us. What the fuck is he doing?
“Something’s wrong,” he insists.
At any other time, I would be grateful for his persistence in showing that he cares, but right now, I’m freaked the fuck out, and his presence is only making it worse. Clenching my hands in my lap, I try to take a deep breath, and it helps a little when my lungs relax, but I’m still breathing shallowly when Shepherd emerges.
He walks to the lectern and stands before it silently, surveying the crowd. He searches our faces moving across rows and groups before landing on me. I stiffen, sinking in my seat when he smiles at me, the knowledge that I’m staring at my fucking doom circling my spine. I’m going to die. Holy fuck, I’m going to die.
Cole reaches over and drops a sweater over my lap, and with his hand underneath, he covers my clenched fists. But I don’t have time to panic about the newest way I can be caught out by the people around me because I have a feeling it’s all over for me anyway. Enzo either doesn’t care anymore, or he can’t hold back the tide.
“Lola, dear. Please stand and come up front,” Shepherd says in a loud voice, and I flinch.
Cole clutches my hands tighter, a pained growl escaping his mouth. From the corner of my vision, I see Marie grab his arm in a death grip. She leans into him and I turn away.
I’m trembling so badly, I have to take a few deep breaths to calm myself, and when I move to stand on shaky legs, Cole won’t let go of my hand.
I can’t look at him. I can’t make this worse, even though I desperately want to see his eyes one last time, and I want to tell him of my love and how much I’ve grown from his firm, quiet presence. But I can’t, I can’t even fucking say goodbye, and instead, I whisper, “Please don’t make a scene, Cole. Please don’t risk yourself.”
He grunts, but I tug my hand free and walk shakily around him feeling the softest caress of his hand on my leg before I glance down at Marie, who’s looking back at me with sheer terror in her eyes. She’s clutching her stomach with one hand and has the other on Cole’s bicep, and I smile tremulously because maybe at the least, my end will save her from hers.
After all, this was inevitable because Cole and I couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves.
In a way, I guess love does indeed conquer all, even if it leads to a horrible fucking end by a megalomaniac.
I finally emerge into the aisle, after seemingly tripping over every damn person in between, and once free, I stand up straight and walk toward the devil himself on shaking legs. His smile grows while he watches me approach, and I glance at Enzo to find his face impassive, but his jaw ticking. He won’t meet my gaze, confirming what I know to be true. I am fucked.
“Flock.”