His laugh was loud and conspicuous, and I found myself joining it. Before I knew it, we were both hunkered down in our seats, trying to contain ourselves over nothing. I held my aching ribs with one hand and covered my mouth with the other. Obviously, the stress had gotten to me. That—or he’d caught me off guard. Again.
Moments like this didn’t seem real. Given the way we’d met, the way our friendship had developed, it was almost like we were bound by some invisible cord that kept bringing us together. The notion was ridiculous, and I hated myself for entertaining it, but…
“So, you say you grew up in church?”
A familiar weight sank in my chest, crushing the idle, lighthearted musing. “Yeah. We left after a falling out when I was in high school.”
Concern lined his forehead. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be,” I muttered. “That place made me feel dead inside.”
“Why? What happened?”
I looked away and scratched at my arm. It wasn’t something I wanted to get into here. Actually, it wasn’t something I wanted to get into at all. “Just church drama. What time is it?”
He glanced at his watch. “Almost nine thirty. So, did your parents find another church?”
“Yeah, they started going somewhere east of town. I’ve never gone, but I think they like it there.” A pang of guilt shot through my system as I pictured it—a little brick building atop a big, grassy hill. “It’s just not my thing.”
“East of Wilcox?”
“Huh?” I tilted my head in confusion. “Oh, no. Sorry, I meant Clayhaven. That’s where I’m from.”
“Ah, that’s a couple hours south, right? I’m from Scion.”
“Like the car?”
People started to filter in, and he blew out a sigh. “I guess.” Obviously, it wasn’t the first time he’d heard that question. “It’s about twenty minutes outside of Columbus.”
“Oh, and your brother’s in Columbus.” I perked up, proud of myself for remembering.
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Yeah.”
What was up with that reaction? He’d had the same one Thursday night, when his brother came up. Before I could question him, someone spoke up from the stage.
“Are you guys ready to worship in here?” The guy held up one arm to a chorus of cheers. “Let’s get on our feet and praise the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords!”
The speakers rose to deafening levels, and everyone jumped up like it was a free concert. Arms rose in uninhibited praise as the lead singer began to belt out another song, and the bass reverberated in my chest. I stole a quick glance at Wallace and immediately recoiled at the intrusion. His eyes were closed, and he was holding onto the back of the pew in front of us. Crap. Is he praying? I turned my head.
Around us, people were really getting into it. Lyrics flashed across the screens in mass karaoke, but I didn’t make a sound. There was no way I was going to sing in a room full of strangers. Would Wallace? I couldn’t even imagine it.
I tried to sneak another peek, and my breath caught in my throat. He was staring straight at me now, azure light pouring in over his shoulders. The otherworldly glow made him look like some kind of angelic warrior. I couldn’t—
His brow strained as he lifted his gaze to look past me.
Puzzled, I turned to find Rachel making her way down the narrow aisle, her slender form turned to the side. As she came to a stop beside me, she smiled and flipped her hair over her shoulder.
“Hey,” she whispered, directing her gaze up front. Why she felt compelled to speak, I didn’t know. It wasn’t like we were friends or something. Maybe she was still stuck in greeter mode.
To my annoyance, she didn’t miss a beat as she lifted her soprano voice to float above the others, not needing the lyrics projected on-screen. Jealousy bubbled from somewhere inside as I watched her out of the corner of my eye. It was like all those times I’d watched Disney princess movies as a kid and found myself inadequate. The girl was flawlessly feminine, and I felt ridiculous standing beside her.
Pressing my lips together, I turned my attention back toward the front. With everyone on their feet, I couldn’t see the band anymore, so I focused on the screen. I still felt guilty about my silence, but it didn’t matter. I wasn’t there to give a performance; I was there to work something out.
Wallace’s presence alone had brought things to mind I’d spent years trying to suppress, and every second we spent together wore me down a little bit more. His interest was stripping me raw, and I had to know why. Soon.
If I wasn’t careful, I’d like him too much.
“Rena,” Wallace whispered, catching my attention.
Oh God. Everyone else had already sat down.
I sank into the pew and ducked my head. Did I zone out and miss an announcement or something? My face was on fire.
Rachel had left me little room, squeezing in between my coat and the sectioned armrest. The wool served its purpose, but she still felt too close. I scooted another couple of inches to the right and froze.
My arm squished like putty against something hard, and I didn’t have to look to know what happened—I’d run right into Wallace. Thankfully, he was too absorbed in whatever was happening up front to notice. Could I scoot away without being obvious? No, that’d definitely attract attention.
I looked up toward the stage and realized the room had grown silent; that irritating, persistent drum beat belonged to my heart.
“Good morning,” an amplified voice sounded from the speakers, and I forced myself to pay attention. The man on stage looked to be in his late thirties, wearing jeans and a shirt with a microphone clipped to the collar. “Welcome to Campus Fellowship.”
I expected a uniform response from the congregation, but instead heard a chorus of casual greetings thrown from the back. With everyone relaxed in their seats, opening bibles and taking swigs of water, the place felt more like a living room than a sanctuary. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as I thought.
“Such enthusiasm for nine thirty in the morning,” the man commented, reaching down to adjust a dial on the little transmitter at his side.
A warm breath danced past my ear, and I barely suppressed a shiver. “That’s Pastor Mark,” Wallace whispered.
I gave a slow, mechanical nod and waited until he leaned back to exhale. Was he trying to send me over the edge today?
“So, I was at the grocery store the other day.” The pastor paused, looking thoughtful. “And something kind of cool happened.”
Chapter Fifteen
“So, how’d you like it?” Wallace threw his arm behind my seat and turned to check his blind spot. He’d shaved for church this morning, but a menacing shadow was already starting to edge around his jaw.
“I liked it.” I leaned back, considering the question. “But I still can’t figure out how he turned a story about a homeless guy into a message about the book of James.”
He hefted one shoulder as we backed up in the parking lot. “Finding joy under trial.”
“I used to consider sitting through church a trial.”
“You mean your old church?”
I winced. Why did I bring that up again? “Yeah.”
He drove to the end of the lot, looked both ways, and turned onto Kensington Rd. “The more you talk about that place, the less I like it.”
“It wasn’t all bad.” I toyed with the collar of my coat, trying to figure out how to explain it. “There was just a lot of talk, a lot of things going on behind the scenes.”
“Let me guess,” he said. “You got on the wrong side of the grapevine.”
“Something like that.”
“Is that why you left?”
I eyed him with what little suspicion I could muster. Didn’t he realize it was getting harder and harder to hold these crumbling walls in place?
“You don’t have to tell me.”
“No, it’s just that…” The heater blew warm air in my face, and I slumped against the window. O
h, screw it. “I went to the prom with the pastor’s son.”
“Okay?” He crumpled his brow, keeping his attention on the road.
Could I really share this with him of all people? What would he think of me afterward? Sweat glistened on my palms, and I rubbed them down my skirt. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. Dustin was a senior, and I was a junior. I figured, since we went to church together, it was a safe bet.”
He shot me a strange look as we turned onto Nighthawk Drive, headed toward the dorm’s back lot. “But?”
“But,” I echoed, feeling the color drain from my face. “Things got out of hand that night. A bunch of us were supposed to hang out at the rink afterward, and we got there first. He didn’t want to go inside, so I just assumed he wanted to wait for the others. But then he started kissing me…” My stomach clenched. “The next thing I knew, my dress was unzipped.”
This was a bad idea.
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Did he touch you?”
I didn’t want to answer, but it was too late to drop it. The floodgates had been opened, and I couldn’t stop the words I’d been afraid to speak for so long from pouring out. “He kept shushing me, saying it was okay, but I didn’t…I didn’t want to end up…”
Something cracked, but I wasn’t sure where the sound had come from. I kept my head down, unsure of what to say. God, I felt ridiculous.
He let out a slow breath and I looked up, afraid of his reaction.
“End up what?” he demanded, voice strained with something I couldn’t quite decipher as we whipped into the parking lot. “What happened?”
“I didn’t know what to do,” I admitted quietly, gripping my seatbelt. “He was all over me, and I kept trying to get him to stop.” My vision blurred through a film of unshed tears. “But he wouldn’t listen.”
He gave no response as he pulled into a spot and idled, eyes narrowed into slits. “Okay,” he prompted through gritted teeth, keeping a white-knuckled grip on the wheel.
“I couldn’t get him off me.” I felt lightheaded as I pressed my cheek to the window, trying to absorb its chill. “So, I hit him.”
He turned to me, his face a sudden mask of confusion. “You what?”
“I hit him,” I said without the slightest hint of remorse. “I hit him in the face.”
His incredulity caught me off guard. Slowly, he fell back into his seat and relief washed over his features. He flexed his hand a few times, closing his eyes. “And then what?”
“He grabbed his nose and yelled at me, calling me every name in the book. I didn’t know what to do, so I held my dress up and jerked the car door open. I thought the light would draw attention in the dark.” I could see it all perfectly, like I’d traveled back in time. “I grabbed my bag and ran toward the entrance. I heard him get out of the car behind me, and I felt like such an idiot, but I kept running.”
I fisted my hands in my lap, trying to separate the past from the present. “He caught up with me at the door, just as everyone else was showing up. They’d barely even noticed the blood on his face before he launched into this story about how I’d thrown myself at him—how I’d completely lost it at his refusal.”
My chest heaved at the memory. “I was so pissed. I called him out on it, right there in front of everyone. I had tears pouring down my face, and I just snapped. I didn’t even think about how it looked, or how my reaction played into his story.”
Wallace’s mouth formed a thin line as he turned to study me. “And everyone believed him, because it was your word against the pastor’s son?”
I nodded, trying to collect my thoughts. “I called my brother and had him come get me. I thought he was going to tear through the building after Dustin, but he managed to control himself. I just wanted to get out of there.” I took a deep breath and let it out, trying to regulate the pounding in my chest. “Of course, when we went to church Sunday morning, everyone was talking about it. They didn’t say anything outright at first, but they couldn’t keep themselves from staring—disgusted, like I’d dirtied the place.” I shook my head. “Then the pastor pulled me aside to give me a note with scriptures to help work through my so-called problem.”
A tear spilled down my cheek, hot with anger and resentment. “He said my behavior that weekend was a poor representation of the church and that I should repent.” I raised my voice indignantly. “He didn’t even consider the fact that his son could’ve been the one lying. No one did.” I paused. “At least, no one who would stand up and say anything.”
Wallace raised a hand as if to comfort me, but hesitated, dropping it halfway. “That sucks.”
“Yeah.” I nodded, wiping at my face with my sleeve. “So, I ended up telling my parents, and they got really upset. They confronted the pastor about it, and he all but called them liars.” I shook my head. “We left after that.”
“No wonder you don’t like churches.”
Heh. “Some more than others.”
He looked down at his lap, and a moment passed in silence. “Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.” I’d already made myself disgustingly vulnerable to him. How could it get any worse?
“You started to say something a minute ago. You didn’t want to end up…” His throat bobbed as he turned to face me. “What?”
Of all things, to pick up on that…
“Not what,” I whispered in a voice so small I barely recognized it. “Who.”
Blood pounded in my ears. It was the secret locked in the deepest recess of my mind—a place swallowed up by so much darkness no one would ever find it. I'd never been able to stomach the thought of sharing its guilt-laden curse with anyone, but something about him made me want to try. Maybe it was the unyielding way he held my gaze, or how he tensed in anticipation. All I knew was I felt this man soul-deep, and it scared me.
“I didn’t want to end up like my cousin,” I blurted, the words ripping from my throat like razor blades. “Her name was Arianna.”
His brows furrowed, dark and intense. “Was?”
I was wrong. I couldn’t do this. Not with him.
“Look. It’s okay. You don’t have to—”
“She was raped, okay?” I wrenched my chin to the side and looked out the window. “After that, she was numb. No one could touch her. No one could talk to her. And nobody realized what was going on, until it was too late. She just couldn’t carry that weight anymore. She was only seventeen.”
His hand slid over mine on the seat, enveloping me in warmth I didn’t know I needed. We sat there in silence as I struggled to compose myself, choking on half-formed sobs. A minute passed, maybe two, before he spoke again. “I’m sorry.” He paused, carefully lifting his hand from mine. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No.” I wiped at my eyes and licked the taste of salt from my lips. “I should be the one apologizing. I didn’t mean to unload on you like th—”
“Rena.”
“What?”
He offered me a weak smile. “I could tell something was bothering you. I’m glad you got it off your chest.”
He didn’t know the weight of his words. I hadn’t been able to tell anyone here about Ari’s death, not even Gabby or Aiden. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
The truck continued to hum, vibrating as it idled. I looked away, about to say something else, when my gaze locked on his steering wheel. It had been completely crushed on one side, cracks branching out from deep, uneven slopes. “Wallace?”
“Hmm?”
I lifted my still-shaking hand and pointed. “What’s that?”
Chapter Sixteen
“This?” he asked, running his fingers over the marred plastic. “It’s just…”
“Hey.” I pushed the button to release my seatbelt and let it slide across me. “You didn’t do that, did you?” It seemed so implausible, I had trouble uttering the question aloud, but what other explanation was there? Was it like that before, and I missed it?
“It
was the cold,” he muttered.
“What?”
“The cold. I left the window cracked, and it warped the plastic.” He looked up and met my eyes. “I haven’t got it fixed yet.”
“You left a window cracked in January?”
He hesitated. “Yeah, for…ventilation. You know, when the heat’s on full blast.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t convinced, but I wasn’t going to stick around and push the subject. “Well, we don’t want you to overheat again.” I reached over and twisted the keys back in the ignition. “There’s no need to waste gas out here, when we both live in the same building.”
“Yeah.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and pocketed the keys. “Good call.”
I opened my door and stepped down before he could help me. With the bitter wind tousling my hair and the building not forty feet away, I was feeling stronger, better than I had in a while.
“So, can I ask you something now?” I heard his door slam on the other side, as I walked around the truck.
He picked up my pace without effort, shoving his hands into his pockets. “What?”
There was a strange sense of intimacy between us as we walked back, side by side. My confession had left me raw, stripped of my darkest emotions, and he’d hefted the burden without batting an eye—as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Maybe I could do the same for him.
“Well,” I began, clearing my throat. “You act all weird whenever you talk about your brother. I was just wondering if you had a fight or something.”
He stiffened, and his breath lingered in the frosty air. “Cole and I don’t always see eye to eye, that’s all.”
“Is he your only sibling?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, don’t you miss him? I mean, don’t you have some kind of twin link…bond…thing?”
He swiped his card at the entrance and held the door open. “Yeah, I guess, but…”
“What?” I slipped past him and held up my ID for the attendant. “You should call him sometime. Maybe he can come up for a vis—”
“No!” The word echoed around the room, laced with sudden authority.
Strength (Mark of Nexus #1) Page 10