Karlie opened the envelope. She read the letter and dropped her head. She knew it. Somewhere deep down inside of her, she knew Ryan was her father.
A sharp pain hit her midsection, and Karlie clutched her stomach. “Ryan’s my father. God, why? Why him?”
Karlie rocked back and forth but did not cry. She did not know how to feel.
Her cell buzzed. She didn’t have to check the caller ID. Brian had learned the results as well. She wondered if Ryan would call.
The wimp probably wouldn’t.
Ten minutes later, the doorbell rang.
Slowly, Karlie drifted to the door.
Brian’s hand reached out to pull her to him. Karlie collapsed against him like a ragdoll, afraid her legs would betray her. “I came as soon as I heard the results. Neil told me you were here.”
Karlie nodded against his chest. “I’m glad you came.”
Brian led her by the hand to the couch. He stretched out with his feet hanging off the ends of the couch and pulled Karlie to lie beside him.
Then the tears came.
Her body shook with tremors as pain wracked her. She wept until every last ounce of pain was out of her system. When her tears subsided, Karlie felt cleansed. Brian excused himself to fetch her some tissues from his truck. He returned and wiped her face.
“Thank you.” Karlie blew her nose. “Bro.” She smiled. “It doesn’t sound right yet.”
Brian wondered if it ever would. “I’m going to make my dad pay for doing this to you. To us.”
His words sliced through her foggy brain. Romans 12:17 sprang into her mind: “Recompense no man evil for evil . . .” She knew she couldn’t encourage Brian’s plan. Karlie shook her head. She adjusted herself on the couch until they faced each other. “I’m angry too. Believe me. But it’s not either one of our jobs to make Ryan pay.”
“Yes, it is,” Brian countered.
“I don’t need you to fight for me,” Karlie said. “I’ve got God on my side.”
“Don’t tell me you’re going to forgive him.”
“I. Have. To.”
He shook his head. “I don’t understand you, Karlie. My father does the most despicable thing a man could do, and you’re willing to let bygones be bygones just like that.” He snapped his fingers.
“If only it were that easy,” she said with a sad smile. “I’ve had weeks to prepare for this, but from the time Ryan dropped the news, I knew.” Karlie reached over to touch his cheek briefly. “You knew too. You might not want to admit it, but you knew.”
“I didn’t want to be right, Karlie,” he whispered.
“Neither did I,” she said. “Brian, you were there for me when I found out about Jamaal’s betrayal. I’ve never cried so hard in my life. But a part of me was crying because I was relieved. Relieved he’d moved on . . . because someone had already captured my heart.”
His eyes widened. “Are you saying . . .” Hope glowed in his eyes, and he moved closer.
Karlie allowed the longing to surface from her heart to her face so he could see the emotions she kept banked. Then she blinked, closing the window to her soul. “This moment is the closest thing to a truth you’ll ever get from me.” Karlie placed a hand over Brian’s lips. “Whatever I think I feel ends tonight. When God told me I was ready, I thought it was for me. But it wasn’t until I saw your face when I opened the door that I understood what He meant.”
“I’m lost,” he said, shaking his head.
“I had to be ready to help you.”
He creased his forehead. “What are you saying? Help me do what?”
“Help you forgive by forgiving,” Karlie said.
“I will never forgive that man,” Brian said. “I moved back home to dig and search for evidence.”
“What evidence?”
“My father has a court case, and I’m going to help his opponent win. I’ve been searching his computer files, but so far I haven’t found anything. I’m not giving up, though.”
“You need to abandon your revenge scheme,” Karlie said. “It’s not worth it. Ryan’s your—our blood. He’s our father. I might not like what he’s done, but I don’t want to see anything bad happen to him.”
“You’d rather see it happen to us?”
“No, I don’t,” Karlie said. “But I don’t want you to do anything. If you care for me, I’m begging you not to do this.”
“How can you ask that of me?” Brian asked. “Your request is a devious manipulation of my feelings.”
Karlie nodded. “You’re right. I need you to promise me you’ll let this go.” She gulped. “I have. I’ve been to see a psychologist, and I’ve been talking with my dad.”
“I have no one but you to talk to.”
“That’s not true,” Karlie said. “You have God. He is the Father of all fathers, and He wants to claim you as His son.”
Brian chuckled. “Only you would use my most devastating moment to preach to me.”
Karlie went to the mantle to retrieve her mother’s Bible. Sitting next to him, she began to preach Christ. “You’ve been a churchgoer. However, it’s time you meet the Savior.”
“I want Him,” Brian said. “I want the God who made you who you are.”
Karlie nodded. “This was what God wanted all along for you, Brian. He’s the reason I’m in your life. He brought us together for this purpose and at this time.”
Brian closed his eyes. “I don’t want to feel this hatred and this pain any longer.”
Karlie slipped to her knees. “Tonight, I’ll take you somewhere you’ve never been with any other woman. I guarantee no woman has ever taken you this high.” She took his hand in hers. “I’ll take you to meet the King.”
Chapter Thirty-eight
Patricia dabbed at her lipstick and smacked her lips. She twisted in the mirror and shimmied. Dressed in her form-fitting crème dress and gold-specked heels, she knew she looked good. Good enough to eat. With a light swing of her hips, Patricia ran her hands down her body.
She was ready for church.
Today she was going early enough to sit in the front row. Right next to Lady Gina Ward, the pastor’s wife. If she played her cards right, she and Gina would have more in common than their salvation.
Patricia hid a sly smile and opened the guestroom door. She stepped out, careful not to make a sound. It didn’t matter if she woke Ryan because she didn’t have anything to say to him. Not after she had been with Tim.
And not now when she had bigger and better things on her mind, like laying the groundwork for her seduction of Pastor Ward.
She clutched her Dolce & Gabbana purse and made it out of the house without anyone noticing. Before starting up her car, the Holy Spirit spoke to her.
Don’t return to your vomit!
Patricia released a sigh of consternation. She knew 2 Peter 2:22: “The dog is turned to his own vomit again; and the sow that was washed to her wallowing in the mire.”
She closed her mind to the implication behind the verse, telling herself, I’m not a dog or a pig. I’m a human being. The fight with her body was very real.
She had tried and failed. Miserably. So why fight it?
Since she had given in to her temptation two days ago, however, she had grown tired of Tim. He was a vigorous but unimaginative lover. If I’m going to keep falling off the proverbial wagon, I need to do it with class. Continuing a fling with Tim would be so . . . cliché. She also worked with him. Too messy. So, after three hot bouts of heavy lovemaking, she fed him the “I can’t live with myself and continue betraying my husband” line and cut him off completely.
Luckily for her, Tim didn’t push. Maybe because he’d gotten what he wanted. She yawned. She didn’t know . . . and she didn’t care.
To be successful at adultery, Patricia needed to find someone married with as much to lose as she did. Someone like her hot, look-at-me-flash-my-smile pastor. Pastor Ward heard from God. You couldn’t get a much higher connection than that.
A warn
ing hit her spirit.
Touch not the Lord’s anointed!
Patricia trembled. I won’t touch him. If my plan works, he’ll be touching me.
Her sassy answer to the Spirit of God should have clued her in on how far off the path she had gone. Patricia pulled down the visor. “You’ve got this. Maybe after one time with him, you’ll be all right again.”
She pumped up her courage and headed to Zion’s Hill.
Patricia sauntered down the aisle just as the praise and worship leader took the stage. She spotted Gina and Pastor Ward’s children, Trey and Epiphany, in the front row, which was generally empty. Today, that was going to change. Patricia ignored the usher who pointed out an empty space three rows back. She strutted to the front row and settled at the end of the row.
From behind her, she heard whisperings, “Who sent her up there?” “She has a lot of nerve” “She isn’t family,” but Patricia held her head high. The view was better from up front.
Pastor Ward zoned in on her. Patricia could have sworn he hid a smile. Good. His smile indicated a sense of humor.
And perhaps even some genuine interest.
She glanced toward Gina. The First Lady winked at her. Patricia placed a phony smile on her face before turning her focus on worship. Before she knew it, she was caught up in the praise.
Patricia closed her eyes and enjoyed the moment in God’s presence. Why couldn’t she stay in this euphoria all the time? In church, it was so easy to serve God. To do the right thing. Burdens lightened and nothing seemed insurmountable. But when she left the building, she encountered the real world. She remembered her problems were still there keeping her up at night.
Soon the music died down, and the ushers roamed the aisles carrying offering plates. Patricia tapped her purse. It was time to put her insane plan in motion. Gathering her courage, she pulled out two tithing envelopes. One bore Pastor Ward’s name written in her bold scrawl.
You’re insane.
Before she could think twice, Patricia dropped them both into the velvet pouch. The deed was done. There was no turning back now.
She watched with fascination as the ushers directed everyone to stand and Deacon Broderson blessed the offering. She stifled a giggle because the small item hidden inside the envelope had now been well blessed.
After the ushers took the funds to the back room, Patricia ignored the announcements while watching for the head usher’s return. Sure enough, the head usher brought her envelope to Pastor Ward. He tore open the envelope before taking a sip of water.
A millisecond passed before his eyes widened, and Pastor Ward instantly spewed the contents of his mouth onto the floor. Deacon Broderson rushed to offer him a napkin. Pastor Ward blotted his chin and suit before piercing her with his stare.
Patricia squirmed. For the first time she second-guessed putting the tiny pair of panties in the envelope. What was she thinking? Pastor Ward stormed toward the podium. Every part of her shivered with uncertainty. He was going to out her in front of everyone!
But Pastor Ward went right into the Word.
Patricia breathed a sigh of relief. All throughout his message, which she would never be able to recall, she wondered what Pastor Ward would do.
She didn’t have long to wonder. As soon as the message ended and the congregation filed out, an usher approached her.
“Pastor Ward needs to see you,” he said.
Patricia stepped into the bathroom to freshen up. She reapplied her lip gloss, sprayed some body mist, and did a quick underarm check. Satisfied, she made her way to Pastor’s office.
She found Pastor Ward seated behind his desk. He gave her a warm smile.
Patricia smiled, stepped inside, and closed the door.
“Hello, Patricia.”
Patricia’s eyes widened when she heard Gina’s voice.
“First Lady,” Patricia said. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
Pastor Ward gestured for her to sit. “Well, you’ve managed to get my attention in the most unusual way.”
Patricia saw him reach for the envelope, and her mouth popped open. She watched him drop the scrap of underwear onto his desk.
“I thought it prudent to have my wife with me when I asked you to explain this . . . gift.”
Patricia didn’t need a mirror to tell her that her cheeks were burning. She swung her gaze between the two, expecting to see anger but instead saw pity.
Patricia’s eyes filled with tears. She covered her face.
Gina rose to get her a wad of tissues.
“I’m sorry,” Patricia whispered. “I don’t know why I did that.”
Gina patted her back. “You do know why. You think this is the first time?”
Patricia’s head popped up. “Someone’s put underwear in the offering plate before?”
Gina shook her head. “No, that would be a first. And last.”
Patricia understood the warning. The First Lady was giving her a pass this time. There most likely wouldn’t be a next time.
Gina kissed her husband full on the lips and departed leaving them alone—with the door wide open.
Patricia’s respect for the shorter woman intensified. If the roles were reversed, she would have been giving someone a beat down.
Pastor Ward asked for her undivided attention and opened with prayer. When he concluded, he asked, “What’s going on with you, Sister Oakes?”
“The results came in. Karlie is Ryan’s daughter.”
Pastor Ward’s eyes softened. “I knew there had to be a reason for your behavior. Your action this morning was so out of character.”
Patricia wished she could sit there and say the results were to blame, but she knew her secret pain. “No, Pastor. It is more in tune with my character. My true nature.” Patricia’s shoulders slumped.
Pastor arched his eyebrows, waiting on an explanation. Patricia took a deep breath and told Pastor of her sexual addiction and past affairs before Ryan.
“You need to tell your husband,” he said. “Ryan loves you enough to forgive. I believe the truth will make your marriage better than before. It won’t be easy at first, but no good marriage ever is without struggle.” He provided the name of a Christian counselor to help her get back on track.
Properly chastised, Patricia departed. She would see the counselor Pastor Ward recommended, but she had no intentions of following his advice about Ryan. Patricia wasn’t telling Ryan anything.
Her cell rang. She saw Timothy’s face on the screen and answered.
“Come quickly! Anna had another seizure!”
Chapter Thirty-nine
Jackson Higgins will be taken care of.
Frank had texted Ryan from an unmarked phone with that cryptic message late Friday night. It was now after eleven a.m. Saturday morning, and he was munching on his second bowl of Cheerios.
Ryan shuddered. What did taken care of mean? He knew he didn’t want Jackson dead, but there were so many other sinister scenarios. Though he had erased the text, the words were seared into his brain.
He jammed his spoon into the bowl. Stop thinking about that. Think about the millions of dollars. Think about your reputation. Think about anything but Jackson Higgins’s sick wife.
He hadn’t been able to. Ryan had stressed over those words all weekend long. He pretended to be asleep when Patricia left for church. Ryan couldn’t attend services and clap his hands while knowing that on Monday he was going to ruin an innocent man.
Brian strolled into the kitchen dressed in a charcoal grey suit and dark blue shirt.
“Where are you going?”
“To church.”
Ryan arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you would ever step foot in a church.”
Brian stared at him. “What? Did you think I was too much of a heathen to be reached? Well, I’ve got news for you. Sometimes when you won’t go to God, He comes to you.”
Ryan nodded at the profound statement. “No, you caught me off guard because I’ve invited you so many ti
mes and you always had a million and one excuses. So I figured I’d leave you alone. Stop asking.”
Brian retrieved a bowl from the cupboard and milk from the fridge. Ryan pushed the cereal in his direction. Brian thanked him and prepared his cereal.
“Well, you might have stopped asking, but Karlie never did,” Brian said. “Then again, she’s for real about God. You can’t be around her and not see Him.”
Ryan recognized the jab. “I wish you would hate me or love me because this”—he swung his hands between them—“is torture. If you’re going to be around me, stop needling me.”
Brian dropped his spoon onto the tabletop and hunched over the small round table. “You’re a phony. You’re not a man of God, and I’m going to prove it.”
“Wait a minute. Have you been snooping around my stuff?” Ryan narrowed his eyes. He had noticed a few things out of place in his office but dismissed it to paranoia.
“No. I have better things to do with my time.” Brian scraped his chair back and stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I just lost my appetite.”
Ryan held up a hand. “No, son. Please, don’t go. I’m sorry I messed up what could be our first decent conversation.” He pointed to the chair Brian had vacated. “Please.”
“Fine, but one more negative word and I’m gone. I’m not trying to enter God’s house upset.”
Ryan nodded.
Brian cautiously slid into his chair to resume eating. “So, how come you’re not at church?”
There was no way he could tell his son the truth. “I overslept. I think it might be allergies or something.”
Brian wrinkled his nose. “Yes, it’s the season. I don’t remember you being plagued with it, though.”
Ryan forced himself not to look like a deer caught in the headlights and tried to keep his voice calm. “True, but it can start at any age and once it does . . .” He stuffed his mouth with the last of his cereal. He figured if he were chewing, he wouldn’t need to be talking.
Brian wolfed down his breakfast and glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to get out of here or I’ll miss Neil’s sermon.” He gathered both of their bowls.
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