Page 27 of Revenant's Fire

Mercy rolls her eyes, turning her back to me, but I don’t miss her murmured, “So do you.”

Closing my eyes I take a breath. Visions of Sunny beneath me, riding me, the way she reached for me over and over until her body couldn’t take anymore. All of it. She’s perfection rolled up in a ball of sunshine. I held her as she drifted off, a smile on her plump lips. And that’s when I saw it. Dried blood on her hairline. Blood from a man whose life ended all too soon. If I keep her I’m condemning her to a life in the dark.

My boots echo in the hall, my steps steady, unrushed as I make my way through the bodies in various stages of undress, to my Harley. I need to feel something other than the clawing feelings of guilt that wrap around me.

I don’t know how long I ride, or where I’m headed until I step foot into Sunny’s church. I almost expect to see her sitting there, in the spot where she always sits. The one place I always pause, just to see her smile.

“Elias, I didn’t expect to see you,” Pastor Richards says, his voice low, calm, knowing.

“I didn’t expect to be here,” I mutter.

He tilts his head slightly. “God leads you to where you need to be.” He turns slightly, glancing at me over his shoulder. “My door is always open.” He walks the path I know well, entering his office, leaving the door ajar behind him.

Fuck it. If this is where God thinks I need to be, then so be it. I trail behind, closing the door softly behind me.

“Elias.”

“Pastor Richards.”

The man considers me for a moment, before sitting heavily in his chair on the other side of his desk, waving at me to join him.

“You know you can call me Warrick.”

“Never feels right.”

He stares at me for a moment. “Then how about you call me Sergeant.” My eyes snap to his as I straighten in my seat. “Sergeant First Class.”

“Sergeant,” I nod, my training kicking in as if it was only yesterday I turned my back on the Army, and not five years ago.

Sitting here, in the office that feels like a second home, I realize I’ve spent almost everyday for five years sitting across from a man I know nothing about. And yet a man who knows almost everything about me. I swallow, not knowing where to start.

“Look, I know you know nothing about me. About my family other than what you’ve seen when we cross paths in town. It’s not how our relationship works. You talk, I listen. But I want you to listen for a minute.” I nod, eyes on a man who outranks me in both military and faith. “God has a plan for everyone. You may feel as though he left you open, soul bared and forsaken, but there is a reason for that. What it is, I can't tell you. I don't have that answer. But you do. Deep down, in your gut, you know.”

“I can't trust my gut, you know that,” I reply through gritted teeth.

“It’s not your gut you don’t trust. It’s your faith. You’re scared that if you listen, really listen, and shit doesn't work out, then your faith will be gone. And who is a chaplain without faith?”

I swallow the burning in my throat. “My faith is my identity.”

He gives me an almost pitying look. “Your identity is more than your faith and the comfort you offer. It’s your strength. Your love for your brothers. And one day, your love for my daughter.”

My eyes snap to his, chocolate brown, just like Sunny’s. “I, no, she deserves-”

Pastor Richards raises his hand, silencing me. “Sunny deserves the man she’s chosen.”

I scrub a hand down my face. “I’ve already tainted Sunny. Did you know she protected me? The blood of three men is on her hands. That is the type of shit I bring to people. She needs to move on, find a good man.”

Pastor Richards stares at me before letting out a sigh. “Sunny’s 25 years old. She isn’t a little girl. She’s not perfect. She’s the eldest daughter of a vet.” He runs a hand down his face. “Sunny knows how the world works. She knows it’s a cruel and messy place as much as it’s a good and just place. She knew what she was doing, and I will never be disappointed that my girl protected men that have more to offer the world.”

“Do we? Do I?”

He regards me a moment. “God wouldn’t leave you standing if he didn’t have a plan for you and the club. Remember that.”

I swallow thickly and nod. What else can I do? Pastor Richards stands, and I guess our session is over. He holds his hand out, and I clasp it, his grip strong.

“Listen to your gut, Revenant. Have faith. It’ll all work out.”

I leave the church feeling no lighter than I did before I stepped foot in there. Sunny is still heavy on my mind, as are the Sinister Wolves and Amos Crowe. Now is not the time for complications. I need my head in the game and yet every quiet moment my mind drifts to the dark haired beauty I left in my clubhouse room.