If I Belong With You: A Sweet and Engaging Christian Romance (Seriously Sweet St Louis Book 1)

by Cindy Kirk

  The sincerity in Emily’s voice touched Angel’s heart. The fact that the girl could be so kind, so concerned about making Angel feel welcome when she herself was a nervous wreck was remarkable. Emily had been anxious about this Bible study all week, first worrying that no one would show up and then worrying, what if too many came and they ran out of food or space?

  Angel had made like a good friend—voicing little reassurances and letting the girl talk endlessly about her concerns. But she’d only started really listening when Emily mentioned that Mike and his friends had decided to come.

  They were almost at the end of the long hall when Emily’s feet slowed. She stopped and turned. “Do you think I look okay?”

  A wave of guilt washed over Angel. Here Emily had gone out of her way to make her feel comfortable, and yet she’d done nothing to assuage Emily’s nervous anxiety.

  “You look better than okay, Em. You look fabulous.” Angel cast an approving look at the buttercup-yellow tank dress. Relaxed through the waist and hip, the dress minimized Emily’s overly rounded curves.

  Actually, tonight the girl looked svelte. Positively thin. Angel’s gaze narrowed. “Have you lost weight?”

  Emily flushed. “A little. I’d like to lose fifteen more.”

  A sick feeling took up residence in Angel’s stomach. Had Emily succumbed to Mike’s promise of easy weight loss with meth? Dear God, she hoped not. Angel lowered her voice to a whisper. “Tell me you haven’t started—”

  “What are you talking about?” Emily looked at her blankly, clearly puzzled.

  “Using,” Angel said tersely.

  Awareness coupled with disappointment flickered across the girl’s face. Her jaw clenched. “I thought you knew me better than that.”

  “Em.” Angel grasped her arm. “I’m sorry. But if not that way, then how?”

  “There are other ways to lose weight, besides drugs,” Emily hissed. Her blue eyes flashed.

  “Such as?” Angel hated to pry, but she had to know the score.

  “Such as diet and exercise.”

  Angel raised a brow. “Really?”

  “That’s right.” Emily brushed a strand of hair back from her face with a trembling hand. “My mom and I work out together.”

  “You never said anything.” Still, now that she thought about it, Emily had stopped eating those chocolate snack cakes in the afternoon, and Angel couldn’t remember the last time the girl had drunk a shake with lunch.

  “I didn’t say anything because I wanted to see whether it worked or not,” Emily said, the hurt still in her eyes. “I’ve lost ten pounds in a month.”

  “I’m really happy for you,” Angel said. “And I’m really sorry for assuming the worst—but I know what Mike’s been like. What’s he got to say about all this, anyway?”

  “Actually, I haven’t seen much of him lately.” Emily’s gaze shifted to her hands and she bit at a cuticle. “He’s been hanging out with his friends more.”

  “Didn’t you say he’s coming tonight?”

  “That’s what he said. But he can be sort of undependable.” Emily frowned. “He’s already changed his mind a couple of times. First he wasn’t going to come, then he said he would.”

  “What made him decide?” Angel forced a teasing smile. “Missed you too much?”

  An unladylike snort burst from Emily’s lips. “Hardly. He found out Mr. Weston was doing the meeting.”

  “No way.” Angel laughed. “So, he’d rather see the coach than you? Is that it?”

  “I guess. I’m still trying to figure it all out.” Emily shrugged, but Angel knew Mike’s erratic behavior upset the girl. Even though Mike was wrong for Emily, Angel hated to see her friend so unhappy. “We’d better go in.”

  Angel followed Emily into the oversize family room. Decorated in pale yellow with blue accents, the massive room retained a homey feel. From the fireplace with its bouquet of spring flowers to the rug on the hardwood floor, the effect was warm and inviting.

  For a second, though, when they walked in and all eyes shifted to the doorway, Angel felt more like Daniel entering the lion’s den than a welcomed guest. At that moment, Emily wasn’t the only one glad to have a friend at her side.

  Angel scanned the crowd. She finally found Jake across the room, sandwiched among four students on a green-and-white striped sofa. Angel’s gaze narrowed and she wished she were a fly on Jarvis Rediger’s ball cap. She’d love to know what Jake was saying to the young outfielder.

  “Hey, Angel.” A boy she recognized from her Trig class yelled from the far corner of the room. “There’s a seat over here by me.”

  Angel groaned. The guy had asked her out every day for the past month, and now she couldn’t even remember his name.

  She looked away to find Jake staring.

  Their eyes locked. His lips turned up in a slight smile. Her heart skipped a beat. After promising to catch up with Emily later, Angel started across the room. She wove her way in and out among the casually arranged couches and chairs, keeping the striped sofa in sight.

  “Why, Mr. Weston.” She stopped beside the couch and widened her eyes innocently. “What a surprise.”

  Relief flashed across his face, and she almost wished she’d given in to her first impulse and called him “Jake, baby” or “Hey, sweetheart” or something equally outlandish, just to see his reaction.

  “Good evening, Angel. I didn’t expect to see you here. But,” he added, “I didn’t expect to see Jarvis, either.”

  Another student started talking to Jake, and Angel looked at Mike’s best friend. Though they’d never been introduced, the guy his teammates had nicknamed “Big J” was well known around Woodland Hills High. His exploits were legendary. His parents were frequently out of town on business, and Jarvis used their absence to full advantage. His parties were reported to be “the best.” Parties that—and she’d heard this from a reliable source—included an unending supply of crystal meth.

  Did the boy use drugs to combat loneliness? Growing up, she’d been surrounded by kids who did just that. Or did he do it to fit in? Being a teen in today’s world wasn’t easy. It hadn’t been easy when Angel was young, either. The path to adulthood was filled with temptations, especially when you were traveling it alone.

  She smiled at Jarvis, er, Big J.

  Jarvis returned her smile, showing a mouthful of perfect white teeth. He sat up straight, and his voice was husky and low. “Angel. At last we meet.”

  He stood, and for a crazy moment she thought he was going to kiss her hand. Instead he moved closer, forcing her to take a step back. “I’ve been watching you and I don’t mind saying I like what I see. Tell me, are you and the boyfriend exclusive?” A hint of beer and tobacco clung to his breath, and her empty stomach churned.

  “Boyfriend?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “You know, the one with the tattoos. I see his car parked out in front of your place a lot.”

  Angel felt a cold wave of apprehension. The one constant in this suburban area was that most of those who lived in Woodland Hills never ventured across the tracks to the area Angel lived in—an area known as “Trashtown.”

  How did Jarvis know where she lived? And more important, how did he know when Crow was there? The thought that her house could be under surveillance had never occurred to her.

  She decided to play dumb and see if he was bluffing. “Get real. You don’t know where I live.”

  “Sure I do,” he said with a wink. “I know where all the pretty girls sleep.”

  She ignored his emphasis on the word sleep. “Yeah, right. You’re just making all this up.”

  “You live on Dempster, white house, middle of the block.” Jarvis ran a finger down her bare arm, and it was all Angel could do not to slap it away. “I’ve seen you out in the yard in those hot shorts.”

  She rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. “All right. You know where I live. So what are you doing in that neighborhood? I know you don’t live aroun
d there.”

  He laughed as if she’d said something hilarious. “Me live in Trashtown? No way. But the guys and I do sometimes go over there and party. You know the place—the green house around the corner from you.”

  “The one on Gade?” Angel did know the place. She made a mental note to give Narcotics the address. “It has that washing machine on the front porch?”

  “That’s it.” Jarvis shook his head. “Man, you missed a great party last week.”

  “You should have invited me.” She gazed up at him through lowered lashes. “I like to party.”

  Jarvis leaned closer, and she held her breath. “I would have asked you, sweetheart, but I don’t want your man to get all upset.”

  “I have an idea.” She turned her face so her lips barely brushed his cheek and she whispered in his ear, “Let’s not tell him.”

  “Angel.” Jake had risen from his seat, and his voice, although abrupt and disapproving, was music to her ears. “You two can talk later. We’re ready to get started.”

  Jarvis sat back in the oversize leather chair and patted his lap.

  She forced a regret-filled smile, mouthed sorry and headed over to where Winston…? Kenneth…? from Trig waited.

  “You can share my Bible.” The tall Swede held up a leather-clad volume much like the one she’d left at home.

  Keeping her faith under wraps had been harder than she’d thought. For the past ten years, sharing that faith had been as much a part of her life as breathing.

  Thanks to her old friend Dan Reilly.

  Dan had been working the streets in East St. Louis that long ago night when her uncle had forced Angel to accompany him on that fateful drug buy. One of the first officers to respond to the report of shots fired, Dan had told her later that when she’d looked up at him from that pool of blood and cried for help, there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t have done for her.

  Wounded and in shock, Angel only remembered bits and pieces of the evening. But she did know Dan had been there when she’d awakened and he’d been by her side ever since.

  With his wife dead and his only son grown and living out of state, Dan had in abundance what Angel needed most: time and love. He became her surrogate father and although they were both too strong willed to always agree, she and the burly police officer shared a special bond. He was her hero, her mentor and most of all, her friend.

  Her Trig partner nudged her, and she realized that everyone but Jarvis and her had bowed their head in prayer.

  Angel folded her hands and shifted her gaze to where Jake now stood in front of the fireplace. His words were strong and clear, and the opening prayer he’d chosen touched her heart. It was so hard to believe the man could be the head of a methamphetamine ring. But she remembered one of her first arrests: a sweet old grandmother who raised marijuana in her basement to supplement her Social Security. Nothing, Angel reminded herself, was impossible.

  “Tonight, we’re going to discuss Matthew 14:2 ‘Come, He said.’” Jake rested one hand on the mantel and waited for everyone to locate the passage. “But before we get started, I’m going to ask Marylou Dettoff to come to the front of the room.”

  The sound of thin pages flipping filled the room as the plump blonde made her way toward the fireplace.

  Winston?—Kenneth?—found the text immediately, and his face lit with pleasure. Though he sometimes came across as trying way too hard, he seemed like a genuinely nice guy. Angel gave him an approving smile. A splotch of red darkened his neck. The Book slipped from his hand.

  Angel grabbed it before it hit the floor.

  “I’m sor—”

  “I’m sor—”

  He chuckled and Angel giggled.

  Jake watched the two in silence. He was glad Angel had made friends with Ken. The boy was relatively new to Woodland Hills, and for some reason was having difficulty fitting in. Kids could be so cruel. An unwanted image of two boys in shackles rose unbidden in Jake’s mind. He shoved the memory aside and tried to listen to Marylou’s solo.

  Why had he agreed to do this? The question went round and round in his head. Granted, the youth director had made a special plea, and Jerry was hard to resist. But, Jake reminded himself, he’d said no for almost a year. Why had he said yes now?

  Jim’s death had rocked his faith, but despite what Amanda thought, it was too much of who he was for him to abandon it without a backward glance. But did this mean he was ready to forgive those who had committed such a horrible act? His chest tightened and a familiar tight knot of hate welled up from deep inside. No, he would never forgive them. Never.

  Marylou concluded her rendition of a Lauren Daigle tune with a bow, a broad smile lighting her features. Jake added his applause to the others and gave her a quick thumbs-up as she passed by on her way to her seat. He glanced around the room, surveying the crowd. Most of those in attendance tonight were regulars who’d been coming since they’d started high school.

  Emily and Ken were new, as were Jarvis and Mike—who’d just slipped in and was whispering feverishly to his friend. Jake silenced him with a stare before his gaze shifted momentarily to Angel.

  She smiled, and to his chagrin he immediately looked away, behaving in that instant not much differently than some of the young boys he coached.

  Emily moved to take a place at his side. “Now?” she whispered.

  He nodded, and Emily punched a button on the remote.

  A loud crack of thunder rent the air. A few kids jumped. Some girls giggled.

  Satisfied, Jake smiled. Now that he’d captured their attention, he needed to make the most of it. He proceeded like a master storyteller—his voice dramatic and loud one minute, hushed the next, as he set the scene.

  “You’re out on a lake, and a storm blows in. Unable to handle the fierce wind and rain, your boat capsizes and you’re suddenly thrown into the cold dark water. You panic. Your life jacket is in the boat, and you’re too far from shore to swim. You’re drowning,” Jake said. “The water is pulling you down. You don’t know how much longer you can go on.”

  He paused. “Who or what would you want to see most at that moment?”

  “A lifeguard in a bikini!” Mike shouted out.

  “Flipper,” Marylou said.

  “My dad in his speedboat,” Kenneth yelled.

  The answers continued coming fast and furiously for several moments.

  “Lots of good ideas.” Jake rubbed his hands together and paced the room, moving in and out among the students as the adrenaline flowed. “Now, let’s take this back to our lesson for the evening.”

  He returned to his original spot by the fireplace and read the passage aloud. “Do you ever feel like the person in the example? That you’re drowning and you’re all alone? We don’t have to be in water to feel like we’re going under or being pulled down. Give me some examples of times you’ve had that same feeling.”

  “When I sit down in the lunchroom and everyone gets up and moves.” The words rushed from Kenneth’s mouth before he clamped it shut, as if realizing too late what he’d said. To Jake’s surprise, Angel slipped an arm around the boy’s shoulders and gave him a hug.

  “When someone pressures me to do something I know I shouldn’t.” Emily cast a pointed glance at Mike.

  “What can we as Christians do in such situations?” The room, which only moments ago had been filled with laughter and youthful voices, hung silent. “C’mon people, this isn’t that hard.”

  “We can reach out a helping hand.” This time it was Angel who answered. “We can live our faith and do as Christ would do.”

  Jake stared, taken aback. It was the answer he’d hoped for, but he’d never expected it to come from Angel. “Exactly right,” he said. “Let’s turn back to the text and talk about how as Christians we should be there for each other, and above all, how God is always there for us. So that in our darkest moments we’re never alone.”

  As Jake moderated the discussion, he suddenly realized he’d spent the past year tryin
g to make it through Jim’s death on his own. Although his pastor and others had tried to help him, he’d shoved them aside. And after a while they’d done as he’d asked and left him alone. But the One who’d been there since the beginning had never left.

  “We all need to remember,” Jake said, “when we start to go under, to feel overwhelmed, all we have to do is reach out and take Jesus’s hand.”

  The students stared silently at him. Jake could only hope that at least a few had gotten the message tonight. He certainly had.

  “Would anyone like to share an example from their own life?”

  Granted, it was a large group, and high school students were into appearing cool, but Jake had expected at least two or three to volunteer. No one did. He was just about ready to give a general example when Angel spoke.

  “Several years ago, I was down so low I couldn’t see how I could ever get out. My friends were no help. They were as messed up as I was. Then I met someone who turned me on to Christ and—” Angel’s voice faltered for a second. “I found out like Peter that if I keep my eyes focused on Christ, I can not only always keep my head above water but I can actually swim a few strokes.”

  The familiar brashness returned to her eyes. “I must admit, I still have my moments of weakness. But that’s another story.”

  Everyone laughed, and Jake couldn’t help but join in.

  “Thanks for sharing, Angel.” Jake resumed control of the meeting, answered a few questions and then closed with a simple prayer.

  With the conclusion of the Bible study, the social hour began.

  Emily’s mother brought out platters of desserts to supplement the huge bowls of popcorn mixed with pretzels and M&Ms.

  A few minutes later, Jake made his way across the crowded room to Angel. He cupped her elbow in his hand. “I really appreciated your comments.”

  “Don’t read too much into it,” she said with a wink. “I’ll do anything to get center stage.”

  Jake narrowed his gaze. Was she saying it had all been a big joke? Was this Christian thing just that? An act? Another lie?

  “Okay, now that makes sense,” Jarvis spoke up, and Jake realized the boy had been standing behind him. “For a moment I wondered if I’d had too much—er, Pepsi—to drink. It just didn’t sound like you, Angel, babe. Unless, of course, you and your biker man are talkin’ religion when he’s over there shacking up.”