Page 40 of Take Me to Church
The drummer, I think his name is Simon, scoffs. “It’s a fuckin’ figure of speech, man.” He tips back a long sip from the giant foam coffee cup clutched in his huge hand. “I didn’t mean literal guns.”
“We need to do this as quietly as possible.” Christian glances my way. “If anyone sees Lydia in town they’ll know what she’s there for.”
Tate, the bass guitarist and the one who took my car from the warehouse last night, lifts his brows. “In town? Does that mean we don’t know exactly where we’re going?”
Christian shakes his head. “When I talked to Myra last night she wasn’t completely sure where she was. Only that it was less than twenty minutes from her house.”
Simon turns his cool gaze on me and for a second I panic, thinking he can see right through the calm, collected façade I’m trying my best to keep up. But instead of chastising me for rubbing myself all over Christian this morning, he keeps to the topic at hand. “Do you have any idea where she might be, Lydia?”
I’m used to men talking over me. Around me. Like I’m not even there. Being included in the conversation hasn’t ever been a normal or expected part of my life. And I’m surprised at how nice it feels.
“I know there are a few properties they call retreats where they take people who aren’t following the principles so they can find their way back to righteousness.” I glance at Christian, unsure if it’s okay for me to continue. He barely nods at me and I take that as encouragement. “But I’ve never been to any of them.”
Simon’s lips lift at the corners as his brows jump in an expression that almost looks surprised. “So you managed to leave right out from under their noses?” A grin splits his face, taking him from intimidating and a little scary to surprisingly handsome. “Smart girl. Well done.”
Praise is another thing I haven’t had much of in my life. Wanting it was a sin; good behavior the expectation. And just like being included in the discussion, Simon’s words feel good. Soothe a little of my worry.
“Lydia did do an amazing job of getting herself out, but unfortunately that may make our job a little harder. Now they know what she’s capable of, and I’m willing to bet they fully expect her to come for Myra.” Christian leans against the desk I’m seated behind, propping himself up on the surface while staying close to me. Close enough he has to twist to face the two men across the room. “I don’t expect anyone in town to remember me, but it is a possibility, so it’s probably best if I keep a low profile too.”
Simon glances at where Tate sits on the couch beside him. “I guess that leaves me and you to do the dirty work.”
Christian shakes his head again. “Not you.” His gaze drags down Simon. “You’ll stick out in that little town and they’ll know you’re up to something.” He turns to Tate, the more clean-cut of his bandmates. “You think you’re up to the task of figuring out where she’s at?”
Tate looks undaunted, shoulders squared, jaw set. “Absolutely I am.”
“Good.” Christian stands up. “Let’s go then.”
I blink, not certain I heard him correctly. “We’re going now?”
Everyone in the room pauses and this time they’re definitely looking at me, but not with the judgment I expected earlier. They look surprised.
Christian turns to me. “Do you think we should wait?”
Again, all eyes are on me, waiting for me to make the call. I’ve never been in charge of anything before and it’s shocking to me how heady the feeling is. Especially being in charge of not just one, but what I suspect to bethree,dangerous men.
Unfortunately, being forceful is not something I will ever accomplish easily, so I offer the same sweet smile I always do. “We can go now. That’s fine.”
I expect Christian and his friends to jump on my agreement, it’s what they wanted after all. But none of them moves a muscle. Christian studies me closely. “We don’t go unless you tell us it’s a good idea, Lydia. You know these people better than we do, and if you say we need to wait, then we wait.”
“Oh.” I look from Christian to Simon to Tate, expecting to see irritation on their faces. Frustration that I’m not decisive. That their lives are put on hold, even if just momentarily, because of me. But no one looks bothered at all. They seem just like they always do. Intense, a little bit scary, but calm and in control.
“We’re going to go grab something to eat in the kitchen.” Tate taps Simon on the arm, tipping his head toward the door before walking out and closing it behind them, leaving me alone with Christian.
Christian’s eyes have stayed on me the whole time, like he’s trying to find something I’m pretty sure is not there. Or maybe he has regrets. Maybe he feels like I pressured him to touch me. He was essentially cornered in his bed when I all but threw myself at him.
I drop my eyes to the floor. “I’m really sorry about—”
“If you’re about to apologize for what happened this morning then you can shut your mouth.”
My eyes spring to his as my jaw goes slack. I’ve never heard Christian sound so sharp before and it catches me by surprise. “I just—”
He leans forward, bracing his hands on the arms of the chair as he leans down to line his eyes up with mine. “You just, what?”
I know he doesn’t want me to apologize, he made that very clear, but I don’t know what else to do right now. There’s tension in the air between us and the only way I can think to alleviate that is to claim regret and offer remorse in the hope it will lighten his mood. “I just know that maybe I put you in an uncomfortable position and—”
“And what uncomfortable position was that?” Christian’s voice drops low. “Because there was nothing uncomfortable about the feel of your soaked pussy against my skin.”
Air rushes into my lungs and I gasp like the good church girl I used to be. But it’s not shock that has my whole body clenching tight. Instead, it’s that same ache he so easily identified this morning. The one I’ve never been brave enough to ease on my own.
