Page 47 of Take Me to Church
My laugh is half cackle, half sob, and I’m pretty sure a little snot comes out of my nose. “I don’t know what that means.”
“It means I will do anything for you.” Piper turns serious, which is a relatively rare occurrence. “I got you.”
I’ve felt alone my whole life. Spent so much time realizing how different I was from everyone around me. It was like I was the only one who hadn’t swallowed the Kool-Aid, but still had to play along because I didn’t want anyone watching too closely. So they wouldn’t see when I finally made my move.
But Piper has always seen me. Always supported me and encouraged me to do everything I wanted.
Like find my sister and bring her where she belongs. Where she deserves to be.
“Turn off all the lights.” Christian’s command sends my stomach sinking, scaling away the temporary reprieve Piper’s undying support offered. “Slow down just in case she comes to us.”
Christian reaches between the seats, pointing to the gravel shoulder. “Pull over there and park.”
“This isn’t it.” I sit up straighter, trying to get my bearings in a place that looks distinctly familiar, but still different than I remember. “I think it's farther up the road.”
“It is.” Christian turns to me. “But if they’re out looking for her, they’ll hear us coming up the road. Our safest bet is to go get her on foot.”
“Okay.” It’s risky. There’s a chance that not only will Myra be caught, but I will too.
It’s a risk I’m willing to take.
“Let’s go get her then.” Piper has her door open and I’m gripping the handle of mine when Christian grabs me.
“You two are staying here with Tate.” His expression is serious in the darkness.
What? “But Myra—”
“Myra knows I’m coming for her. It will be fine.” He leans closer, his voice low. “And I won’t risk your safety. Not even for her.”
My mouth opens but nothing comes out.
Because suddenly Christian’s lips seal against mine in a kiss that catches me completely by surprise. His mouth is just like the rest of him. Strong and demanding, but oh so careful as it nips at mine in a way that threatens to make me forget about everything. Including the sister I’m here to save.
When he pulls away, I lean to follow him for as long as possible, keeping the connection until his hands come to my face, holding me still. His eyes lock onto mine. “I need you to promise me you’ll stay here.”
I start to offer the promise he wants but stop.
“I’ll do my best.”
18
CHRISTIAN
IT IS DARK as fuck out here.
I didn’t realize how much I’d forgotten about my childhood, but apparently it’s quite a bit, because I don’t remember the nights out here ever being so fucking dark.
Simon stays close at my side, which is good, because right now it would be impossible to see him if we got separated. Even the dim light from the moon only allows me to see a few yards in front of me. Everything else is a blur of shadowy shapes that are impossible to decipher. And that doesn’t bode well for our chances of finding Myra. I know she’s out here somewhere, but I have no idea how in the hell we’re going to narrow down her hiding spot. Even if we do, there’s no way she’ll be able to tell I’m the one closing in and not one of the other men currently hunting her down.
It’s never easy to help a woman find freedom. Sometimes we’re moving more than just her. Sometimes we end up having to deal with her abuser in more of a hands-on fashion. We’ve gotten them out of all kinds of situations and handled whatever came our way. But I’ve never had to hike through the woods at night, hoping I get my hands on her before her abusers do. Add on that this particular job hits a little closer to home than the rest, and my frustration level starts to climb quickly.
I have to find Myra. For Lydia. She’ll never forgive herself if I don’t.
And she might not ever forgive me.
Simon taps me on the shoulder, motioning for me to stop. We both go completely still, and a few seconds later I hear what he must have also heard.
I thought I knew the spot Lydia was explaining, but the breathy, almost whimpery sound is coming from a different direction than the one I’m headed. And much closer to where we parked than I expected. Maybe the pitch-black darkness isn’t the only thing I forgot about my nights out at Lydia’s father’s lake house.
