Page 45 of Church Girl
“What do they want?”
“Me to return home.” To fall in line. To go back to being the obedient, silent girl I was.
He’s quiet but his fingers rub my neck, andman... They’re speaking a language of their own. My vagina and nipples appear to be fluent.
“They don’t agree with you leaving?” he asks.
I don’t want to go into the details of the fractured relationship with my parents. A relationship that had been fractured long before I left for Chicago. Now, the splinters are just more obvious.
“God no.” The confession bursts free, and I glance away from him.
Gentle yet firm fingers on my chin turn my head back in his direction. “No hiding, ma. Something tells me you’re used to that. Baby girl, if you can’t get naked in a strip club, then where else can you strip yourself bare?”
I snort. That’s pretty funny.
The corner of his mouth twitches as if he’s suppressing a smile. His hand drops away from my face, and I almost grab for it, bring it back to my chin. He steadies me, grounds me even as everything feminine inside me trembles.
“What’s ‘God no’ mean? You run away from home?”
I choke out a laugh at how close to the truth he struck.
“Something like that.”
I’m not ready to talk to him about Gregory and why I ran out of that church. Because then I’d have to explain how I allowed myself to get to the altar before I found my courage to say no. And he’s already called me out on my lack of confidence and strength once tonight. My feelings can’t handle another hit. Particularly not from him.
I sigh, run my hand over my hair only to have my fingers bump against the bun at the top of my head.
“I wasn’t that stereotypical PK who rebels, causes trouble and disobeys every rule. I tried to be the perfect daughter, obey every command, avoid causing my parents any kind of embarrassment or disappointment. I was willing to do anything to please them, especially my father. But when it really mattered—” when it came down to permanently tying myself to a man I didn’t love in the eyes of God and the church “—I failed. And I left. Ran, just like you said. But not only because I wanted to get away. They didn’t approve of me pursuing art. They saw it as a useless hobby. They didn’t approve of me attending college so far from home. Graduating community college with an associate’s in business administration was enough as far as my father was concerned. That way, I could use my degree to support the church.” And my husband.
“Have you talked to them since you left?” he quietly asks, his fingers steadily stroking my skin.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was trying to comfort me. I shake that self-serving thought out of my head. Von must take my shake as my answer to his question because he shifts closer to me.
“Why? It’s been weeks.” Something dark and intense passes through his gray eyes, momentarily shadowing them. His mouth hardens, taking on a cruel slant. “Did they do—”
“No, no, nothing like that.” I adamantly shake my head again. “Neither one of them ever put their hands on me. And my father is a firm believer in spare the rod, spoil the child. I just never gave him cause to carry that out.” I never defied him, and yet that still didn’t make me good enough. Perfect enough. “I have spoken with my mother since I’ve been here. But that didn’t go too well.” My lips twist at the understatement. “I’m just not ready to talk to my father yet.”
I shrug, and Von doesn’t remove that penetrating stare from me. “And earlier...”
“My father called and left me a message. I told myself not to listen to it but—” Again, I shrug.
“Let me listen to it.”
He holds out his hand, and before I even realize it, I pass the phone to him. He holds the cell up to my face to unlock it, scrolls to the voice mails and presses the phone to his ear.
Mentally, I cringe. Why am I involving him in my family drama? No matter what we’ve said to each other tonight, he’s still my employer. This is crossing all kinds of boundaries. I can’t explain why I let him listen. And as I study the lack of emotion on his face, my palms dot with sweat.
One rule we have in my family is what happens in this house stays in this house. And I’m violating that rule right now by inviting Von into the dysfunctionality between me and my parents.
Seconds later, he lowers the cell and passes it to me. The moments of silence have my nerves dancing beneath my skin.
“Don’t let anyone have your peace, Liyah. They can try to take it, but only you can hand it over to them. Protect it at all costs.”
I study him. It feels like he’s not only advising me but himself as well. And it’s on the tip of my tongue to comment, to demand he give a little quid pro quo, when he lowers his arm, signaling for a waitress. The woman who enters is tall, slimmer than Nikki but just as gorgeous. She strides into the VIP section, smiling widely, her dark gaze not even flicking toward me, fixed solely on Von.
“What can I do for you?” she purrs. The same bralette and boy shorts that barely covered Nikki’s body wrap around hers, and she pushes out her substantial breasts, offering those right along with anything else he might order.
Another spike of jealousy strikes me dead center in the chest. I just manage not to rub the sore spot.
