I didn’t trust Bastian. I didn’t believe he would ever embrace our ways. Our beliefs. His presence at The Retreat felt like glass under my skin. Alien and potentially dangerous.
Then I’d feel silly for giving any one person so much power. How could one man bring our whole world crashing down? It didn’t seem possible.
Was our existence so flimsy that one man could be that much of a threat?
I didn’t want to think about the answer to that.
So I didn’t.
I refused to give niggling doubts any purchase in my mind.
Pastor pulled me aside after we had shown David and Bastian the small cabin that would be their new home.
Neither man had said anything after Pastor had turned on the lights to reveal a barren room with two single beds, a window on the far wall, and a non-descript bathroom off to the side with only a toilet and a sink.
There was sawdust still on the floor from the hasty construction. The sharp smell of sap from the wood stung my nose.
“Where are we supposed to take a shower?” Bastian asked, his lip curling in disgust that he instantly tried to paint as something else. But I had seen it.
“There’s a communal shower stall through the trees at the back. Men and women bathe separately of course,” I explained.
Bastian raised an eyebrow. “Of course,” he repeated and I swore I could hear the condescension. He looked around of the room, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. “Quaint,” was all he said, voice deceptively neutral. The one room house lacked personal touches. It was devoid of all color. I found the entire space pretty depressing, though I’d never say it out loud.
“Thingsdon’t matter here. It’s about the path. About God’s message,” I found myself saying defensively.
Bastian sat down heavily on one of the beds with a sigh. “The path,” he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else.
“Yes, the path. It’s why we’re here,” I snapped, angry for some reason. David said nothing. He was a hulking, silent presence in the corner of the room. Bastian simply raised his eyebrows.
“Isn’t that why you’re here?” I goaded, wanting a response from him that wasn’t hidden disdain. I didn’t trust him. Why had I advocated for him to stay again?
Because I was a sentimental fool who had been swayed by sad eyes. Because I had almost envied his love for his brother, wishing that when I had arrived, I had someone that would have missed me.
I was an idiot. Now I had to deal with the consequences of my spontaneous decision.
Bastian Scott didn’tbelong.
“Yes, that’s why I’m here,” Bastian said firmly.
I realized how easy it was for lies to sound like the truth.
Pastor Carter put his hand on my elbow. “Let’s give them some time to get settled, Sara.”
Bastian hadn’t looked away. He was watching me closely. As closely as I watched him. Maybe he didn’t trust me either.
“Okay,” was all I said, following Pastor to the door. I hesitated before leaving, feeling the need to say something else to Bastian. He made me inordinately argumentative.
Instead I gave him and his brother my sweetest, most agreeable smile. “If there’s anything you need, please let me know.”
I felt Pastor Carter’s approval. I had done well. Despite Bastian and his weird, antagonistic vibe, I was able to maintain the role I was meant to serve.
Without a backwards glance, I left the men to their new home, Pastor Carter leading the way.
“Thank you,” he said with a warm smile once we were outside.
I bowed my head in diffidently. “I didn’t do anything. Not really.”
Pastor patted my arm, his fingers curling around my skin. Holding me still. Keeping me steady. “You helped immensely with Bastian.”
