Much to my surprise—and annoyance—Whit laughed. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing you’re screwin’ an exorcist. Maybe she can banish the ghost and the guilt in one go.”
“I didn’t fuck her,” I snapped. “We didn’t get that far.”
Whit froze mid-chew, one eyebrow arched so high it nearly disappeared into the tangle of his hair.
“Youdidn’t?”
“No,” I ground out, already regretting bringing it up.
He blinked once, then leaned back like he’d just been personally offended. “Wait, wait, wait. Let me get this straight. You mean to tell me, you and June—who’ve been making eyes at each other ever since Rhett and Willow’s wedding—you finally end up alone, after all the tension, all the slow-burn eye-fuckin’, and youdidn’tcross the finish line?”
“I wasn’t tryin’ to finish a race, Whit.” I shook my head, pinching the bridge of my nose. “And turns out a rattlesnake bite is a bit of a mood killer.”
Whit choked mid-laugh, cough-snorted, and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth like the realization had hit him square in the teeth.
“Oh myGod,” he wheezed. “A snake bite. While you were gettin’ hot and holy with a preacher. In your bed. In a cursed church.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Whit?—”
“No, hang on.” He held up a finger like he wasdelivering divine revelation, standing up. “Let’s just break this down. A literal serpent slithered into your bed while you were about to—what, anoint her with oil and lay hands?”
I groaned. “Stop.”
“Andbit her,Silas. Bit her mid-makeout like the Lord Himself had a direct line and sent a symbolic cock on a mission of vengeance.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“I’m just sayin’,” he continued, pacing now like a preacher himself, “you’ve got all the classics here. Phallic symbol? Check. Punishment for desire? Check. Religious trauma? Oh, buddy—check, check,check.It’s like the Book of Genesis had a one-night stand with a Pentecostal fever dream and gave birth to your love life. I mean…it’s almost too perfect to have been an accident.”
The laughter died.
We looked at each other.
“It really is too perfect to have been an accident,” I breathed.
Whit kept staring. “You’re serious,” he said.
“Deadly,” I nodded. “Think about it—I got that letter from Abel Trent, tellin’ me to vacate the premises…and now this? Some kind of stunt that seemsintentionally designedto rattle me?”
“Was that a rattlesnake pun?”
“No, Whit.”
Whit held up both hands. “Alright, alright…no puns. But you’ve got to admit, it’s a little on the nose.”
“Yeah, this whole thing is,” I said. “It wasn’t…this wasn’t a fuckin’ accident. It was a message. Abel wanted to show me he could reach me, and maybe…maybe he wanted to take out June along the way.”
“Why?”
“Because she can keep the church away from the goddamnRemnant,” I said, then swiped my hand down my face. “Fuck…fuck, Whit, I’ve been such a fuckin’ idiot.”
Whit stared at me for another moment, then he finally put the burger down.
“You’re not an idiot,” he said. “You’re just…actually wakin’ the fuck up for the first time in ten years.”
I let out a dry laugh. “That supposed to make me feel better?”
“No,” he said. “But it makes me very hopeful that you’re about to stop broodin’ like a man who died in 1874 and start actin’ like someone who actually wants to get his dick wet.”
