Page 12 of Bones

Stay righteous and worthy, give and sacrifice, and you too will be blessed with a house of splendor.

One that, for whatever reason, was beginning to feel like a gilded prison.

I pushed the lie a step further. “It showed that I needed to be closer to your flock to connect with them.”

The silence stretched and grew tenser—or maybe that was just me—as I turned off the burner. As always, Ryan dished out the food. He loaded the single plate with the egg white and veggie frittata. Contrary to his insistence on healthy eating, he also added three pieces of heavily buttered toast and one dry slice. The dry piece would be mine, along with whatever he didn’t finish from the egg dish.

I reached for the plate to carry it to the breakfast bar for him, but he stopped me.

Cupping my cheek, he tilted my head. At the intense way he scanned my face, an apology began to form on my tongue.

For trying to deceive him.

For being ungrateful enough to want to flee the luxurious house he provided.

For being his burden.

“You can come,” he said finally. “But you know the rules. Stay in the back. Do not talk to anyone. Understood?”

That would be easy.

I hadn’t spoken a single word to anyone but Ryan in a long time.

Not since it’d almost cost me my life.

Climbing from the car,I used my hand to block the sun as I stared up at the massive building in front of me. It didn’t look like a church. There was no weathered signage that required someone to manually change the message from a box of letters. No small garden overrun with weeds because it was tended by elderly volunteers with bad knees. No cracked concrete and aged beauty of an old building.

With its staggering size and multiple parking lots, Faith Connections looked like an arena for concerts or sporting events.

It was a far cry from the tiny church in Arkansas where Ryan and I had met.

It seemed improbable that all that space was necessary, but it very much was. Within hours, every single seat would be filled by people who wanted to hear God’s voices on Earth speak. And none drew a flock like Ryan. Despite his young age, hisimpassioned and charismatic sermons had earned him the spot of lead pastor.

Maybe this is why something told me I should be here today.

I needed the reminder of how lucky I am that a righteous man like Ryan would help a cursed sinner like me.

As we walked inside, curious eyes landed on me. When they moved to Ryan, they changed to looks of awe and pity for the handsome pastor who was stuck with the mute ward.

It made my skin itch to feel their attention on me.

Panic spiked in my chest, and I pressed my lips tighter together so I wouldn’t accidentally speak. My colored contacts were in, but I kept my eyes aimed downward anyway. And though the neckline of my dress was high, I fought the urge to pull it up even more so to ensure my scar was hidden.

Regret clawed at me, but I pushed it down. Ihadto be there.

I just had no idea why.

Ryan guided me through the space to the backstage area. He pulled a chair from a stack and settled it out of the way so I could watch the services from the side. “Remember the rules.”

I began to nod before freezing. Flowing water filled my head.

It was followed by the random order to run, but I ignored that part.

Grabbing his wrist, I tugged him close to barely whisper, “Stream.”

His head tilted as his brows lowered. “There’s nothing special about this sermon.” His expression morphed to one of disapproval, and he kept his own voice low. “You didn’t give me much to work with.”

I widened my eyes in a silent plea.

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