Gone.
A spark of something ugly stings under my ribs.
Jealousy.
Fear.
Recognition.
Becki gets under people.
She always has.
She knows how to slip into cracks, how to worm deep, how to twist the knife.
She did it to me.
She did it to Legend.
She’s doing it to Royal.
I push past the girls and head to the back, ignoring the pounding of my own heart.My hand trembles as I grab the railing.
Maybe Becki wasn’t the threat.Maybe she was the warning.
And if I’m fixin’ to take down the Reverend, if I’m fixin’ to burn the rot out of Paradise and keep Legend alive through whatever’s coming.I need her.I need the girl Royal can’t stop watching.I need the girl who walked out of her cage.I need her close.
Because Becki might be the only one in this whole damn town who knows exactly what could bring my family down.
An old man’s sins.
And I need the only thing the Reverend cares about.Her very breath to hold over him.
Chapter 36
Becki
It smells like rain on old buildings and a whole lot of trouble in Louisville.A city built on old blood and older ghosts.
Royal drives us through the window dressing first.Past big glass buildings, clean streets.Past a row of Victorian houses painted in shades of pastel.Past the big bat, reminding me of the night I walked out of my trailer to follow the man in the ghost mask.
Royal.My Biker Boo.
Royal said I was his.Royal let me off the chain and took me out of the clubhouse.I’ve gotten exactly what I’ve wanted from him.It’s almost time to run.But part of me knows, I’m not just playing him.
And I wish I was.
But soon, we make it to blocks where the streetlights flicker like dying fireflies, past boarded windows and burned-out sedans tagged with warnings in spray paint.Rust-eaten chain-link fences sag beneath crooked wooden crosses hammered into them like makeshift wards.The sky hangs low and bruised, leaking a kind of darkness that feels personal.
A kid no older than thirteen sells dime bags on a stoop.
Royal doesn’t blink.
Neither do I.
We are deep now, too deep, into the parts of Louisville even sinners whisper about.The church appears like it clawed itself out of hell.Tall gothic arches.A leaning steeple whispering secrets to the night wind.Broken stained glass that glows faint purple under moonlight.The sign out front should read HOLINESS UNTO THE LORD, but someone slashed a pentagram across it in red paint.It drips like fresh blood even though it is not fresh at all.
Royal kills the engine.
