Page 19 of Worshiping Faith

On the way Zachs had that fucking smirk like he already knew she’d be coming to me tonight.

They can keep their lunch dates.

Because at the end of the day…

She’s in my bed.

“Ain’t happening,” I murmur, voice low, rough. I curl my fingers around her hip, grounding myself in her warmth. “While I got you in bed…” I trail off, brushing my lips against her temple.

She huffs a soft laugh, but I feel her press closer.

No hesitation. No guilt.

No second-guessing what’s hers.

What’s mine.

Chapter Five

Faith

Dax got out of bed in the middle of the night.

I remember the whisper of his voice, something about being busy tomorrow. I don’t remember answering. Just the warmth of him disappearing, the shift of the mattress as he left.

He won’t rest. That, I know for sure. He’s running this place, and that’s a twenty-four-seven job.

By the time I step outside, the yard is already awake.

Trip is easy to spot, his presence too solid, too controlled to blend in. Always watching, always tracking movements like he’s waiting for something to go wrong.

Wilkes is in and out of the armory. Something’s up. They haven’t told me yet, but I can feel it.

Fine. Whatever. It gives me more time to think about Zachs.

One at a time.

I can’t even process all three of them at once, it’s too much to unpack. Too much to even let myself consider, and not fair to any of us.

But Zachs? That’s already creeping in.

I don’t doubt him. Not when it matters. He would always have Dax’s back. He’s proven that. And somehow, without me realizing it, he’s proven he has mine, too.

That file. The crime scene photos, the sheer chaos in some of them. Bodies torn apart, brutality with no clear pattern, like a group of feral beasts had been let loose.

But others? They were… arranged.

Deliberate. Thought-out. Like he’d stopped to enjoy it.

I shake the images from my head. He needed therapy a long time ago. Not to be thrown into a place like this, locked up and forgotten.

And yet, here we are.

I find myself walking toward the common buildings, toward the areas he usually patrols.

The clusters of men are thicker here, lingering in doorways, standing in small knots near the chow hall.

I ignore them.

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