That way he’d have a place to mourn. But after the third anniversary passed by, I accepted that Harold was right. He had committed suicide. Watching what my Father, and those ordered by him, did to Lucy broke us, but he couldn’t go on.
“I met someone. I—” My voice breaks, and I feel tears start to fall down my face. I don’t bother suppressing them or the sobs that plague my body. “I understand now. I understand why you left.” I use my sleeve to wipe away the tears and snot.
“Jonah, forgive me. Please.” I look at the faded patch of grass around his marker, my eyes taking in the red dirt showing through. I know Fenris’ words and actions were meant to cut me, and they did. But to be met with the reality of it when I’m here, sitting with the shame of all of it. It’s nearly too much. This tiny plot is a silent warning. Don’t be weak. Don’t love too much. Don’t hurt. Don’t, or you’ll rot here—the same as his ghost. A choked sob racks through my chest, and I close my eyes while hot tears stream down my face.
The wind blows against my face. In the silence of it all, I don’t hear or feel forgiveness. I look back to Lucy. It used to make me sick knowing her bones were buried beneath the dirt. I refused to come here for the first year because it felt so wrong being here without them beside me—alive. But one day I just woke up and realized I was letting him win. I was letting Fenris and his actions keep me from grieving them, from missing them, and from honoring them.
I decided that day that this place was still our place, it was just going to take a new meaning. But, I found the same peace.
Something I’ve had to learn is that the pain doesn’t go away, you just make space for it. I lay the daffodil against her stone andlaugh to myself. “Lucy, you would love her. She has the same fire you did.”
“I’m not sure of her love for Halloween, though. I’ll make sure to ask her and report back.” The ache comes sudden, a pain I had forgotten to brace myself for. But I hold it down as best I can.
“He won’t get to her. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you.” The moon replaces the sun during the time I just sit here, existing with my friends. Enjoying our time.
The temperature drop causes chills to spread up my arms, and I decide it’s time to head back. Stopping by my room, I change my dirty jeans and head toward the auditorium.
She isn’t there yet. I know because I saw movement through her window. I quietly push the doors open and step inside, moonlight cascading in through the stained windows casting shadows across the pulpit, the pews, the altar.
My body is wound so goddamn tight that I’m pacing back and forth. I should not be as worked up as I am. I’ve been in situations where I should’ve felt like this, on edge, strung up, and ready to snap. But this is all her.
I look toward the pulpit, knowing exactly where I’m going to place her first. My head jerks toward the doors when I hear the door begin to open, and the thrum of my heartbeat speeds up. When she walks in, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to hold myself back, but honestly I don’t want to, and I know she doesn’t want me to either.
Maybe tonight I can stop pretending there’s a line I’m not willing to cross. I’m going to ruin us both if she’ll let me.
Maybe even if she doesn’t.
Chapter Twenty-One
Catarina
Imake it to the doors, stopping before entering. This place is the home of one of the worst moments in my life. One of the nightmares I have regularly. But, I swear I can feel it shifting. Maybe the path once destined as a path of pain has the opportunity to become something entirely different.
What we were is gone—when I walk out, I won’t be the same. I open the door and tiptoe in. Even though it’s dark, with the only light trickling in from the moon, I can see that Zed’s eyes are locked on me. I swear I can feel them searing into my retinas like a brand. My trembling knees make me feel like a fawn learning to walk.
The silence between us trickles into my lungs, suffocating me. We both know exactly where this is headed, and there’s no stopping it now. Not that I would want to. I attempt to swallow but all the moisture leaves my mouth as I walk around the column of pews and catch the shadow on his jeans. He’s already hard. I smile, although I’m unsure if he can see it since the window is to my back now as I walk directly into him.
I slide my fingers under the hem of my shirt, dragging the fabric up inch by inch, exposing my black lace bra. I know his eyes are glued to me—I feel them.
It’s so quiet that I hear the exact moment his breathing stops. The air is cool against my bare skin, but the heat between us is making up for it. I look down at the shades of blue and violet shifting over my body. The way he looks at me sends a thrill down my spine.
The space between us is nearly gone, and the closer I step the tighter the emotions I’m feeling coil around my insides. No sooner than I step within his reach, fingers curl tightly into my hair. He grabs the back of my head, pulling me into him and placing a kiss on my cheek. I feel his hot breath against my ear. “I respect you.” I’m unable to question why he said that before he continues. “I need you to know that, because I’m about to act like I don’t.” His words settle, causing my thighs to clench, and he nips at my ear before continuing. “Now, don’t make me tear the rest off.”
He lets go of me and I tilt my head. “Maybe I want you to tear it off.”
He smiles, and I see his tongue slide over his teeth as I reach behind my back and unclasp my bra. I feel my nipples tighten against the cool air when the lace slides down my arms before falling to the floor. His voice does something to me, and I feel my inner thighs becoming wet.
“Get up there.” He gestures toward the pulpit, pushing me up the altar steps as he follows closely behind. When I’m beside the cross-shaped podium, he walks around, circling me like a buzzard. I feel his fingertips graze over my shoulder and back before coming full circle, ending on my chest. “This spot. The pulpit. It’s almost poetic, don’t you think?” My body goes rigid at his tone that’s dark yet somehow full of amusement. “Where they force feed us their lies.”
“Try to box you in.” My chest only allows me to inhale short and shallow breaths.
“This is the same spot I hurt you,” he says, his tone soft. His words don’t have to say he’s sorry. I hear it in his voice.
“I’m going to make sure you have a lot of memories to choose from, that will replace that one.”
He walks down the altar’s steps to the front pew, adjusting himself and taking a seat, leaning back against the pew with his legs spread. “Does all of the blood rush to your sweet little pussy standing where the righteous come to kneel?” He draws out his words, toying with them.
I unbutton my jeans and begin pushing them down. The stiff fabric slips over my hips and down my legs before pooling in a pile below my feet. “Of course it does. I mean—” There’s a pause. “Just look at you.”
