“I beg your pardon,” Blake demands.
“What man would be fine with his fiancé faking it?” Jack’s gaze shifts to me. He holds up the book. “Name a verse, church girl.”
I swallow, uneasy, but answer the first that stirs in my heart, which has returned to life, racing fast.
“Romans 8:38-39.”
He doesn’t miss a beat.
“Nothing can separate us from love.” His eyes sear into my mine, rendering me speechless. “Another.”
With a tremble, I recall a second verse, which he recites. Flawless.
He tosses me a Bible. “Pick a page. Read the first line.”
I open it on a random page and begin reading. He takes over fast, reciting it word for word.
My eyes are dry from being so wide. I’m absolutely shocked.
“You know the Bible,” I say, side-swept.
“Pick another page.”
I do, and he repeats the feat, but this time, more boisterous, even adding sermon between verses like it’s flowing from his heart.
He’s utterly unrecognizable. That tenor, his grandiose body language, his unwavering confidence. He jumps on a chair and speaks to the heavens. The light in his eyes brightens the room. He’s simply radiant.
He jumps down and rounds the table, his voice carries and hands move like a Southern Baptist preacher in a packed church, captivating and awe-inspiring.
I’m frozen, paralyzed by Jack in the embodiment of a chosen’s form.
And then, he’s standing in front of me, a force greater than my father’s ever was onstage.
His star presence fades. The light dims in his eyes, and the darkness returns. His voice drops, somber and rough.
“Do you love me now, Morgan? I know your damn book.” His knuckles skim along the swoop of my neck, reverently. “Am I worthy?”
My mouth opens and closes several times. It takes a moment for my voice to return.
“Jack... you...” I clear my throat, then the words tumble out. “We’re meant to be together.”
I gasp at my own words.
It’s a declaration as true as me needing air to breathe. It’s from my heart. It’s undeniable now. The voice of God just spilled from his lips, and I can hardly remain standing.
Others wouldn’t see it, but I catch his chest freeze upon hearing my words.
Just as quick, though, he laughs, cruel and dismissive.
“My mother was a preacher. I learned from her. I didn’t tell you.” He shakes his head. “I knew you would want me if I spoke that shit. I don’t believe.”
I shudder, unable to reconcile that with what I just witnessed. “You have to! What you just did... you know every page by heart. Don’t you?”
He drops the Bible and it hits the tile floor with athud, echoing in the room. I pick it up quickly, cradling it close like the sacred thing it is.
He moves fast, his mouth pressing near my ear in a dark whisper.
“Fucking you was all I needed to love you. It was the most spiritual experience of my life.”
