Page 2 of Take Me to Church
“Hello?”
I make my way up the narrow scrap of visible sidewalk leading to the crumbling steps, a little less phased by the repeated greeting than I was before, probably due to the fact that I’m more terrified of what awaits me on the other side of the door than what’s lingering on this one. The steps feel sturdier than they look as I climb them, putting my focus on the door that might be the only thing left between me and the salvation my sister deserves.
A shadow moves, darting around in the corner of my vision, but at this point I'm almost getting used to the continued creepiness, so all I do is stop, waiting to see if it happens again. Something small slinks from the darkness, sliding across the porch before curling around my ankles. Wide, glowing eyes blink up at me. "Hello?"
The laugh that flies out of me is built of both nervousness and relief. "You're a freaking cat." I crouch down, scratching my ghostly friend behind one ear. "You scared the shit out of me, do you know that?"
"Hello?" The cat meows at me again, the odd sound just as otherworldly as the iridescent sheen the moonlight casts on its glossy black fur.
The lock on the door slides open, dragging my focus upward, along with the pace of my heart. I give the cat a final pet. "Wish me luck." Then I straighten and open the door, unsure exactly what I’m stepping into.
The interior of the building takes me by complete surprise. I fully anticipated the inside to match the outside, but it doesn't. At all.
Where the outside is dilapidated and foreboding, the inside is warm and, dare I say, welcoming.
Sure, the darkly painted walls mean it's almost as dim in here as it is outside, but there’s nothing gloomy about what I’m looking at.
The floor is wide planked hardwood, stained a rich brown, and the stairs leading to the second floor are dramatic and sweeping. A large area rug cushions my steps as I quietly close the door behind me, not realizing my little friend has followed me in until he’s circling my feet, back arched as he rubs against my bare legs.
“I hope you live here,” I whisper. Letting stray animals into this guy’s house probably won’t make the best first impression, and I need this meeting to go well.
Especially since I’m asking him to bend the rules for me.
"Join me when you're ready." A deep, smooth voice carries out through the open door to my right.
I'm not sure how I expected the man I’m meeting to sound, but that wasn't it. Maybe under different circumstances I might consider the richly resonating tone sexy, but tonight it’s only intimidating. The man waiting for me just through the door sounds confident. Powerful. Decisive. All good for my ultimate goal, but also nerve-wracking as hell as I prepare to meet him face-to-face and plead my case.
I glance at my reflection in the circular mirror positioned over a curved-leg table, taking a second to smooth down my freshly highlighted strands before straightening my shoulders and striding in, trying to look more confident than I am.
The room is an office. Large and masculine looking, with custom bookshelves built against the walls. Like the rest of the house, it's dark and shadowy, but it carries the same warmth the entryway did. The scent of leather and bourbon hangs in the air, making me glance down out of fear I spilled something on myself at work, but the jean shorts and T-shirt I'm wearing are fresh, pulled on before I rushed from The Cellar to get to this meeting.
“What can I help you with?”
I lift my eyes to the man sitting behind a large desk, swallowing hard at the sight of him. He's younger than I expected. Maybe only ten years older than I am, putting him in his early thirties. The line of his jaw is sharp and his nose is regally built, but barely crooked, as if it’s been broken. The dark wave of his hair is thick and shiny.
In short, he’s stupidly good looking. I shift on my feet, feeling even more uncertain I have what it takes to handle this situation. But I’m here. And this is my best shot at getting my sister the same kind of freedom I have.
He’s not actually looking at me, which makes standing here a little easier. His dark eyes haven’t left the computer screen to his right, scanning whatever he sees there as he waits for me to answer.
I swallow down the nerves climbing up my throat. He's just a man. A gorgeous one, admittedly, but still simply a man. And allowing men power over me is what brought us to this point, so it’s time to suck it up. "My sister needs your help."
His gaze slowly drags to where I stand, leveling on me.
Most of my life I would have wilted under his stare. Shrank back, believing I needed to be smaller. Quieter. Sweeter. It's a difficult habit to break, one that has been ingrained in me since the day I was born, but I'm getting better at it. I lift my chin, meeting his oddly familiar hazel eyes. "Her husband's abusive. He's going to kill her if she doesn't get away from him."
He silently studies me as the seconds tick by. The need to tug at my clothing, to hide more of my body, to squirm under his scrutiny, crawls over my skin. But men no longer have power over me. Men no longer decide my fate and I am no longer responsible for theirs. So I wait, forcing myself to stay still. Forcing my eyes to hold his.
The hard set of his sharp jawline barely softens as his dark brows pinch together. "Lydia?"
I'm a little surprised he knows my name, though I probably shouldn't be. This man is supposed to have contacts all over Memphis and beyond. He’s supposed to be able to help my sister get away from the man basically holding her hostage, so it shouldn't be difficult for him to find out who I am.
What confuses me though, is that he seems surprised. As if my identity is unexpected.
"Yes." I manage a nod. "That's my name."
He stares at me a second longer, the surprise on his handsome features morphing into something I want to say is disbelief. His broad frame suddenly shifts as he pushes to his feet. "Lydia Parks?"
My tongue fuses to the top of my mouth as I follow the long line of his body as it continues stretching higher. It seems like his voice isn't the only unexpected part of him.
