Some days Lilly or Louisa sat with her. Other times it was Pastor Melrose. But no one talked as she stared up at the large wooden crucifix. Day after day, hour after hour… Until one day, when she just couldn’t take it anymore.
Without true intent, she pushed her Bible off her lap. Some of her notecards and sticky tabs came off, scattering around the old, maroon carpeting that lined the aisle to her left. Her fingersstruggled to grip anything today, curling into her palms like they were naturally trying to protect them.
Pastor Melrose stood from the pew. His lilac dress shirt was too festive for her dark mood, though his black slacks and belt contrasted the bright color nicely. The pastor was in his early thirties. Clean shaven with tousled, brunette hair, she could easily understand why he drew so much attention from the youth and young adults in the congregation. Ollie liked to call him “Pastor Yummy”. Hell, she wasfartoo old and happily married tothinksuch thoughts, but even she caught herself admiring him every once in a while.
Or she had, when such things mattered to her.
He squatted down, calmly picking up her notes and Bible. He easily brought the pile over to the pew and started to sort through the mess she’d created. “You’re going to have to talk to me eventually,” he said, side-eyeing her.
Jenna had never before snorted at a pastor, but she supposed there was a first time for everything.
Pastor Melrose did not notice, or ignored, her rudeness. “If you won’t talk to me, then you need to findsomeoneto talk to. Dr. Rutenberg, perhaps?”
Dr. Rutenberg was a psychologist some of the club members saw to help with their PTSD and other trauma. He’d offered his services following Melanie’s murder, but Jenna had no desire to talk to him or anyone else.
Though she remained quiet, Pastor Melrose did not seem discouraged. She had always given him credit where it was due. To her knowledge, he’d never used his natural good looks and charisma to sway people. He was patient and kind, a true believer in the Word of God and the power of community.
“I can’t imagine the pain you’re in.” Finished with putting her Bible back together, he placed it gently on the pew beside him. “I am not a father, but I did lose my mother a few years back.It’s a different type of pain, and one that I pray every day that no parent has to endure.” He shook his head. “But, sadly, there are far too many whodoknow that pain, Jenna. Will you at least tell me how you are? What’s going through your mind?”
Jenna’s jaw ticked, and the anger simmering around her heart turned her voice cynical. “How do you think I feel? What thoughts do you think are going through my mind? You think I’mhappyin any way? Do you honestly think that there’s a possibility that even a singlegoodthought has come to me recently?”
Her words did not outwardly affect him. He rested his arm over the back of the pew, turning to face her more as he crossed one leg over the other. “I can see you’re angry. That’s good, Jenna.”
Jenna scoffed before wincing as her back spasmed. “Angry? Seems too mellow a word for how I’m feeling.”
Pastor Melrose nodded. “But youarefeeling, Jenna, and that’s the point.” He reached over and patted her Bible on the pew. “I have a feeling I know who you’re angry with too.”
“Is this the part where you tell me that God is good and great and to believe in His plan for me?” Her voice was little more than a sneer. “To trust in Him and not lose my faith?” Jenna shifted in her chair, trying to find some relief for her back.
“Actually,” he commented, “I was going to suggest you yell at Him.”
Startled, Jenna turned her head to face the pastor for the first time. “Excuse me?”
Pastor Melrose gestured around them at the empty sanctuary. “No one’s here. Where better to shout at God than in a church?”
“You want me to…shout,” she hesitated, “atGod?”
“You’re angry with Him, aren’t you? You feel alone and betrayed, angry that He gave you Melanie only to take her awayfrom you?” Pastor Melrose met and held Jenna’s eyes. “So tell him about it. Shout it at the top of your lungs.” When she just stared at him in disbelief, he added, “God can take it, I promise you.”
Jenna clamped her jaw closed. Her brain was shouting at her to not listen, thinking it wrong to be so disrespectful to God. And yet… Her very soul was screaming so loudly it was deafening. She felt like a champagne bottle that had been shaken so much the cork was barely able to stay in place.
She wasn’t even sure what to say or where to start. She was sinking, drowning, cast overboard without a lifeboat. She had no right to question God or His plan, no right to be so angry or to wonder why her.
Her eyes lifted up to the crucifix on the far wall, and the cork popped. Jenna threw her head back, wailing out her agony and rage.
Griffin Elias Shaw.
Steel remembered meeting him on their first day of sniper school. Unlike many of their fellow Marines who were appalled that Steel had married so young and had only ever been with one woman, Shaw had found Steel’s dedication to Jenna admirable. Said that it was a testament to Steel’s loyalty and attributed that tenacity to his love of country as well as his wife.
They’d been rivals from the start, both top of their class and eager to prove their worth. However, to Steel’s knowledge, it had been a friendly rivalry. They’d helped each other, pushed each other to be better. When it came down to it, though, Steel had exceeded expectations. They’d shaken hands, congratulated each other. Both had passed, Steel had just done better.
Shaw’s betrayal to not only his country but also to their friendship added a cynical side to Steel’s personality he hadn’t realized was so profound until he was standing face to face with Shaw again after so many years.
He was shorter than Steel remembered. Maybe it was how Steel held himself now or perhaps the equality of their once friendship had tainted his memories into believing that they were of similar height. Once caked with muscle, Shaw was now a wisp of the man he’d been, lean, gray-skinned, and disheveled.
Living under the assumed alias given to him by Jeremy Harris of a deceased cancer patient in Huntsville, Alabama, they found him exiting a deli with a paper bag full of purchases. To take Shaw by surprise, Scar had tailed him. It was their assumption that even though Shaw had spied on the club for months, Scar would be the member he would know the least about. He’d be on the lookout for Steel. As Shaw left the deli, Steel rolled up in a panel van with the side door open and Scar tackled Shaw into the vehicle. It happened in the blink of an eye and in the blind spot of a camera. Regardless, Steel had no doubt that Keys was tracking him and Scar, covering any tracks they inadvertently left behind.
Now Steel was standing in an abandoned cabin in a forest north of the city while Scar went to dump the van.
