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by Danielle James


  “Did you say Oriental?” Pax chuckled. “How old are you? Who says that?”

  “How old am I? You never ask a woman how old they are,” Mrs. Harrison scoffed, offended.

  “I thought we were taking turns asking offensive questions,” Pax shrugged.

  “Okay, that’s enough. Mrs. Harrison, did you bring food?” I smiled.

  “Yes, I did Pastor.”

  “Wow,” Miss Red Dress muttered under her breath. She looked at Pax and said, “She’s old…and evidently kinda racist. Sorry.”

  I blinked a few times at her response but Pax laughed and thanked her. Meanwhile, Mrs. Harrison looked like she was about to blow a damn gasket. “Old? Excuse me little girl?”

  “Bellamy. My name is Bellamy. Stop calling me, little girl…please.” She had to grit please out from between clenched teeth like it killed her to use manners and be polite.

  “You’re eighteen. You’re a little girl.” Mrs. Harrison snapped with an attitude that I’d never heard come out of her mouth before. She was always a sweet old lady that I never had even half a problem with. She said some off the wall things but mostly she was low key.

  I looked at Bellamy curiously and lifted an eyebrow. “Eighteen?” I asked.

  “Eight. Teen.” She enunciated with her arms folded across her chest. “Problem, Pastor?” Her tone was sharp as a sword and it did something to my insides. We engaged in a stare off and I felt the need to rail into her about being eighteen-years-old alone at a bar…drinking.

  “See, I knew coming to church was a good idea.” Pax grinned entirely too hard.

  “Sister Joan, so good to see you,” Pastor Wilson came by just in time and guided Mrs. Harrison to another group of people.

  Pax rubbed his hands together and smiled looking between me and Bellamy. I never even had time to appreciate her name and how beautiful it was because I was still stunned over her age.

  “You’re eighteen?” I blurted the second Mrs. Harrison was out of earshot.

  “Yes. You’re a pastor who frequents luxury bars when he’s not in church, and he’s Asian but from Staten Island.” She said gesturing to Pax. “Look, we all learned something about each other.”

  “Hey, I’m Paxton. I’m Korean and my family has lived in New York for like three generations. I like weed, alcohol and generally stirring the shit pot. Nice to meet you.” He shook Bellamy’s hand and she laughed a little. It lit up her face.

  “I love stirring shit up too, so we’ll get along just fine, Pax. As long as you have some weed on you.” Bellamy grinned and it was full of mischief. Just like I thought, she was trouble.

  Pax pulled a brownie from his coat pocket and broke Bellamy off a piece before trying to give me some as well. I declined. The last place I needed an edible to kick in was at Cross Point. Bellamy ate her piece without an issue.

  “Question for you, Halle Berry, why the fuck are you here with that old lady? Church doesn’t seem like your thing.” Pax polished off the rest of the brownie and I shook my head. Bellamy was like a train wreck. I wanted to turn away but I couldn’t. I was stuck staring at her. I’d been jerking my dick to thoughts of her for a week and she was in front of me even more beautiful than she was in my imagination.

  Normally, it didn’t work like that. Normally, it was the other way around.

  “Did you call her Halle Berry?” I chuckled.

  “She looks like a chocolate Halle Berry. Tell me I’m wrong,” Pax smiled and looked right at me. He knew full well I thought she was the sexiest woman I’d ever seen.

  “I hadn’t noticed,” I lied. I lied in church. Heat prickled my face like I was standing in front of the sun. Bellamy looked at me with those hypnotizing exotic eyes and smirked like she knew I was full of shit.

  “Oh…you noticed,” she purred. “Anyway, she’s my grandmother. Hopefully, she’ll let me stay with her for a while. I’m kinda fucked and don’t have anywhere to go.”

  “You’re still a kid, why don’t you have somewhere to go?” It was a genuine question but I saw the guard that went up around Bellamy the second it left my mouth. Pain lived behind that brick wall she erected and it hit me square in the chest.

  I’d never seen beauty in sadness before but I saw it when I looked into her chocolate eyes. I ran a palm over my face and looked around for Mrs. Harrison. She was busy laughing and talking with a few other ladies so I had time to talk to Bellamy.

  Suddenly, the urge to know everything about her took over me like a swarm of bees. There was nothing pleasant about it. I knew I had to disarm a bomb just to save the flower behind it but I was willing. I was a pastor. Helping people was what I did and it was plain to see that Bellamy needed help.

  “Can I talk to you in my office, Bellamy?” My brain switched from lusting over this beautifully broken girl to helping her. She was no different from the kids in my youth group. She needed someone to care.

  When I asked her to step into my office, she looked at me like I’d grown another head. “No thanks,” she said, “I don’t make a habit of sneaking off to be alone with pastors who have drinking problems. I’m good.”

  Anger filtered in, taking over the compassion I had a second ago. I couldn’t ever remember swinging from one mood to another so quickly. Bellamy was already making me irrational.

  “You have a problem being respectful, you know that?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

  “Yeah. I know. You have a problem trying to help when nobody asked you for help. I’m not one of your little charity cases, Pastor. I’m fine. I’ve been fine all this time and I’ll keep being fine as long as Joan lets me crash at her place for a while. Don’t worry yourself.” With that, she turned away from me and walked back to Mrs. Harrison.

  I tried to shut my eyes and compose myself but her ass wouldn’t allow it. It was hypnotizing the way she swung her hips in front of me like she was dancing when she walked. Like she was dangling a pendulum in front of me trying to rip into my consciousness.

  “Cyrus, snap out of it.” Pax slapped my back a few times and I shook my head, finally free from her web. “I’ve never seen you stare at a girl like that,” he smirked.

  “I wasn’t staring at her.”

  “You were absolutely staring at her, man. I don’t blame you. She’s sexy as fuck. She has an attitude and she’s probably bat shit crazy but that makes her sexier,” he laughed.

  “And you tried to make me talk to her. You were setting me up.”

  “No, Cyrus, I know what I’m doing. You need to talk to her.”

  “She’s eighteen, Pax. I’m twenty-seven.”

  “So? You need a dose of Bellamy in your life,” he insisted.

  “Nah. I’m good. She’s a kid and she’s mean as hell.” I stared at her from across the dining hall and just like in the bar, every man’s eye was glued to her.

  When one of the kids from my youth group started talking to her, I felt my hackles raise. When I saw her roll her eyes at him I made my way over and wedged myself between them.

  “What’s up Pastor Cy?” He frowned at me and I took one look at him without saying a word. He sighed and made his way back to his table.

  “Does everyone act like that when you look at them?” She asked, her full lips pursed.

  “Mostly. Let’s go to my office,” I said, placing my hand on the small of her back. Her eyes met mine and something sparked. It sizzled against my skin and burned until I dropped my hand.

  “No.” She looked me dead in my eyes and didn’t blink. She was infuriating. I looked up at the ceiling and realized my usual youth pastor behavior wouldn’t cut it with her. She was every bit a volcano ready to erupt any moment.

  “You rather I talk to your grandmother then?”

  “Talk to her about what?” She sighed. Her annoyance was showing through her clipped tones.

  “Why you don’t have anywhere to stay. Where you came from. If you need any help.” Bellamy rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth.

  “Why are you trying to dig in my b
usiness? Don’t you have someone else to save? I’m fine.”

  “You say that a lot,” I countered.

  “Because it’s true. You just don’t listen.” The way she threw sass at me made me want to make her listen. That wasn’t how I operated but Bellamy evidently pushed me outside of my comfort zone.

  “Excuse me, everyone,” Pastor Wilson clapped his hands getting everyone’s attention. “The sisters in the kitchen are waiting on the turkey and then we can eat. Until then, I figured we’d play some music and dance a little bit. Let’s work up an appetite. Pastor Cyrus, can I have you put on some something the kids will like. Yall know if I do it we’ll be in here dancing to Frankie Beverly and Maze.” He chuckled and Bellamy looked at me. Her eyes were full of so many unsaid things. I wanted to pry her head open and get a glimpse inside.

  “Yeah, Pastor Cy!” One of my kids clapped from the back. Bellamy smirked, her full lips drawing my gaze to them like magnets.

  “Yeah, Pastor Cy. Go DJ for the Lord,” she laughed and so did I. I didn’t mean to but it slipped out. She knew damn well she wiggled away from me but I would find out what her deal was sooner or later.

  I knew none of my kids wanted to hear Frankie Beverly so I had to get up there and play something before they got restless waiting on the food. I signed into Cross Point’s Apple Music account and clicked through the playlists approved for church functions.

  I glanced at Bellamy who’d moved beside Pax. She was showing him something on her phone and he thought it was hilarious because he couldn’t stop laughing.

  I shook my head and clicked play on the first song, then shot my gaze over to Bellamy again. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her for some reason. I felt like she was up to something but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

  When Lil Kim came on over the speakers, I knew exactly what she was doing. My eyes got wide and my heart thumped to life in my chest.

  How the hell did she do that?

  I went to the next song and Wu-tang Clan ain’t nothing to fuck with came blaring out even louder than the Lil Kim song. The older church members literally clutched their pearls and gasped. It was a collective and sharp gasp that the kids tried their hardest not to laugh at.

  Meanwhile, my face was scorched from the heat of judgment from Pastor Wilson. I hurried to click a playlist with gospel music on it and pushed out a breath. I had to dig to the bottom of the playlists to find the one I was looking for in the first place. It had censored versions of songs the kids listened to on the radio. Well, the songs that weren’t too horrible before being censored.

  Once everyone started dancing and having fun, I made a beeline to Bellamy. “Excuse me, Mrs. Harrison, I need to speak to Bellamy.” I gripped her bicep in my hand and yanked her out of the dining hall lightning quick.

  The noise from the dining hall died down significantly. I was face to face with the girl that made me cum harder than I’d ever cum in my life and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it because she was too young. She was troubled. She was the granddaughter of a congregation member. The list went on and on.

  “What, Pastor?” The corners of her lips curved up.

  “You added playlists, didn’t you?” I quizzed.

  “I did. Is that illegal or something? Because you sure as fuck have me out here like you’re the cops.” Defiance danced in her chocolate eyes.

  “You got everyone upset and for what? So you could get a laugh?” I towered over Bellamy’s head a good five inches but you’d never know it with the way she stared me down.

  “Do you lecture yourself this strongly when you eye-fuck random women at bars?” Her words pierced the reserved part of me eating a hole in my usually infallible armor.

  “Do you always mouth off when people are talking to you?”

  “Yes. Now, are we done asking and answering questions?” I couldn’t understand why but I felt a pull towards her and I wanted to keep her away from everyone else for a little longer just so I could get to know more about her. I had no idea what to do with the information but I craved it like good food.

  I took a few more selfish moments to stare at her beauty. It was classic and striking. I’d never seen anyone prettier than her. She had the bone structure of a supermodel and her body was the personification of perfection with that slender waist and those full hips.

  Bellamy was a buffet for my eyes.

  I focused my stare on hers and nodded. She lingered in front of me for a while and it took everything in me not to do something stupid and reckless, so I walked away. I had to stay far away from that girl. Hopefully, she was only visiting Mrs. Harrison because too much time around Bellamy would dissolve my willpower.

  “You and Bellamy cool now?” Pax asked. Somehow, he managed to steal a piece of ham and a roll from the kitchen. I didn’t even bother asking him about it.

  That was Pax. He’d find a way.

  “Not really but I’m not trying to be cool with her. Hopefully, I don’t have to see her anymore because I don’t even know her and I’m ready to pull my hair out.”

  “You’re ready to blow her back out,” Pax mentioned nonchalantly.

  “She’s barely legal. I don’t want any parts of her.” I checked my watch then sent my mom a text telling her I’d be over for dinner in a little while. When I looked up from my phone, I saw Bellamy’s hips swaying and her ass moving in ways it shouldn’t have been moving in church.

  Heat coursed through my veins burning away my morals as I stood by watching her unashamed. She moved like a melody floating through the air. I’d never seen anyone dance as fluidly as her. Our eyes locked for a few seconds and everyone else faded into fuzzy figures in the background.

  It was like she was dancing just for me.

  It wasn’t until I finally exhaled that I realized I’d been holding my breath watching her. I rubbed my damp palms against my pants then shoved my hands in my pockets. I had to get the hell away from Cross Point before I singlehandedly caused it to combust with the thoughts running through my mind.

  ***

  Bellamy

  I was out of my damn mind. That was the only explanation for me actually being pissed that Pastor Cyrus left church.

  He was a motherfucking Pastor.

  No man who looked like that should ever be a pastor.

  God, that man was fine as fuck.

  My eyes darted around looking for him and his friend Pax for twenty minutes before I finally asked someone where he ran off to and they told me he left. He didn’t even say goodbye. Who does that? I know I wasn’t the most charming person in the world but still…

  I liked something about him.

  Maybe I pissed him off too much and he decided to leave. It would make sense. Pushing people away and pissing people off were my areas of expertise. I slid my fingertips down my throat hoping to inconspicuously loosen the knot there.

  Why was I so worked up over him leaving? He was so pretentious. Such a damn goody-two-shoes. I hated people like that. It was amplified with him because he was a fucking pastor.

  I still wondered what his dick tasted like though.

  Before my crazy-ass grandmother sentenced me to a night of sleeping in my car, I asked her about Pastor Cyrus. I found out that he was the youth pastor at her church, Cross Point. That’s all she’d tell me until she talked to God.

  Evidently, she didn’t want to get too attached to me in case he told her I couldn’t stay there.

  Fine by me.

  Nobody ever got attached to me anyway. I was disposable and I liked it like that. It kept me under the radar.

  ***

  The next morning, I woke up to incessant muffled knocking. I thought I was in some kind of bad dream.

  I sat up way too quickly and hurt my neck. Probably why people shouldn’t sleep in fucking cars. I winced at the sharp pain that radiated down to my shoulder and glared out of the window at Joan.

  “Come on inside,” she said motioning with her hand.

  “There was no better way for you to
wake me up?” I grumbled once I was inside the warm kitchen. I didn’t realize that my fingers were practically numb until I was holding a mug of coffee. Of course the mug had a creepy picture of Jesus on it.

  “When I woke up this morning, my heart was full,” Joan began with a smile. “The only time I wake up with a full heart like that is when God puts something on my mind and this morning, he put it on my mind to let you stay here for a while, Bellamy.” I won’t lie, my heart leaped into the roof of my mouth at the news. My eyes were wide and glowing as I looked at her over the top of my Jesus mug.

  God, that thing was hideous.

  There had to be better looking Jesus mugs. I was sure of it.

  “Thank you so much, Joan. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.” My voice trembled, giving away my true emotions. “I was so scared I’d end up on the street.”

  “No, child. God told me that I couldn’t let my grandchild walk the streets. It’s not your fault that everyone in your life left you.” Her words stung in a place deep inside of me that was still raw and angry.

  I cleared my throat and stretched my neck to give the feeling of inadequacy room to uncoil its tendons and wrap me in its embrace. I was used to it.

  You’re so worthless even Joan can see it and she doesn’t even know you.

  The sinister thought stuck around long enough to make me feel like shit before disappearing. That’s what it did. The quiet voice in the back of my head tore me down then vanished. I hated it.

  It pissed me off and I found my knee bouncing and my head pulsing with pain.

  “I’m going to reform you because clearly, you’ve lost your way.” Joan’s eyes took on a look of pity as she regarded me. “How can you lose your way if you’ve never had one?” She asked aloud. Probably more to herself than to me. I drew my shoulders in, wishing I could shrink or disappear. Then I promptly got pissed that I felt that way.

 

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