Mom slapped me, chipping one of my teeth with the force. “Always for The Awakening! You know this!” Then she cradled my face and kissed my nose. “I love you, Sara. But you’re too distracted. Pastor has noticed. He’s concerned about you. We all are. We’re watching you, making sure everything is as it should be.”
Her clear warning left me frozen. I lay awake all night after that, worried about the nightmares that waited for me if I were to close my eyes.
I raked more leaves into a pile before stopping. There were many more leaves to rake but I couldn’t be bothered. “I’m sorry that he hasn’t,” I told Bastian sincerely. “He should never have been taken to The Refuge.”
There I said it. Out loud too. Fear and habit had me casting a quick look around to ensure I hadn’t been overheard.
“What does Pastor Carter hope to accomplish by sending people there?” Bastian leaned against the rake, his hair tangled around his face. I didn’t stop myself from reaching out to push it out of his eyes.
I did that a lot lately—take every opportunity to touch him.
Bastian hadn’t kissed me since he brought me the book. The same book I now slept with beneath my pillow. I read the notes and inscriptions he had written in the margins before going to sleep. I didn’t care so much about the author’s words as I did about Bastian’s.
His thoughts mattered.
I fanaticized about kissing him again.
About doing more than kissing.
I touched myself for the first time last night as I remembered the feel of his lips on mine. I imagined it was Bastian’s fingers between my legs. Pressing. Rubbing. I had never dared find physical pleasure before.
It was a sin.
Pastor Carter made that very clear.
It was an earthly distraction. Our bodies were temples devoted only to God.
It was another example of how I was continuously defying everything I had ever been told. Everything I had ever been taught.
The shame was almost crippling. But I did it anyway.
It was like a compulsion. This need to do things I had been told I shouldn’t.
Being with Bastian after thinking such wicked thoughts about him was slightly mortifying. What if he could tell what I was imagining about him?
Even if he didn’t know, God did. And that made me feel horrible.
I quickly dropped my hand from his face. Bastian smiled. It was a sad, miserable sort of smile.
I cleared my throat and propped the rake against a tree, needing a little distance between us. “He says The Refuge is a place to focus on God’s word. With no distractions, no people, we can reaffirm our holy vows.”
Bastian snorted and rolled his eyes. “It’s all fucking ridiculous.”
He was right.
It was ridiculous.
I frowned at him. “Keep your voice down. You don’t want someone to hear you.”
Bastian sighed but lowered his voice. “Let’s go, Sara. Leave all this behind. It’s toxic. If not downright criminal. It’s no kind of life.”
I wanted to. So much.
But my fear held me back.
“How can I leave my mother—?”
“Well from what I’ve seen, you wouldn’t be missing much. She doesn’t even seem like she wants you around,” Bastian cut in harshly.
