Page 33 of Property of Quake

I kneel and pray. I reflect, and then pray some more. Somehow, despite my best efforts, thoughts of Quake override everything else.

“Lord, help me.”

My prayer is met with silence, and that frustrates me because prayer is supposed to provide solace, or at least the appearance of it. Instead, I’m left feeling guilty for resorting to asking the lord to change my thoughts.

The guilt quickly turns to annoyance at myself for turning something as simple as thinking about a man into a spiritual crisis. Yes, I’m a nun, but nuns are human. We still have a heart and the capacity to love.

I rise to my feet and settle on the front pew. Continuing to do as Sister Beatrice instructed, I think back over my life, on my relationship with Ryan and my decision to pledge my life to God.

Hours pass, and darkness descends. I’m no closer to figuring things out than I was when I entered the chapel, yet somehow, I feel lighter. Maybe it’s because I’ve accepted the idea that my path might be different than I thought, or maybe it’s because a higher power has lifted some of my burden. The reason doesn’t matter, though.

I make the sign of the cross and stand just as the double doors fly open, and Melissa stumbles inside.

The second my eyes land on her, my stomach drops.

She’s crying, and it’s different than when she sobs out of grief. This is panic, pure and simple.

“Melissa, what’s wrong?”

She rushes toward me, tears streaming down her face. Her breathing comes in ragged gasps, making it impossible for her to respond. I look down at her shirt, and my blood boils.

The yellow fabric is torn, the rip stretching almost to the waist from her shoulder. Her matching pajama pants are crooked.

“What happened?” I ask, fear coursing through me.

She opens her mouth, but still, no words come out. My heart hammers in my chest as I reach for her and gently grab her shoulders.

“Sweetheart, look at me.”

Her terror-filled eyes lift to mine. “I…” She shakes her head, unable to continue as more sobs wrack her small body.

I hold her while she cries while I die a little inside. I don’t know the specifics of what sent her rushing into the chapel, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good. Sacred Haven is supposed to be exactly that… a haven. Children should be safe here, not trembling in fear.

“Melissa,” I prod when her cries settle. “Can you tell me what happened?”

11

QUAKE

“Okay, get some sleep.”

I disconnect my call with Lyric as I step into my quarters. I wanted to talk to him in person, but he’d already settled in with Mellie for the night, so I opted for a call instead.

I’m fucking tired, and it’s the kinda tired that stems from bone deep exhaustion, making every step feel heavier than it should.

I’ve spent the last week following Keith, and today was the worst. He spent eight solid hours busy doing nothing important. We traversed a total of three-hundred miles across three towns, and not once was I worried that he knew he was being followed.

If he noticed a pickup truck showing up near the diner, gas station, and apartment complex, he never let on.

The problem is, I didn’t learn anything new. An entire week of tailing the guy, and all I’ve managed to discover is that he occasionally works at a Goodwill, he pays his rent late, and he has terrible taste in food and music.

Not once since the night of the party has the girl been with him. He dropped her off at a sorority house on the other side of the city, and she’s been MIA since. That bothers me more than anything else because despite the countless hours I’ve spent cooped up in a cage, I still don’t know who she is. I tried to convince myself that she’s not a minor, and going to a sorority house would support that, but it still doesn’t feel right.

When he hadn’t left a bar in the downtown area in two hours, I decided to call it a night because I have to get some sleep or I’ll be useless. It’s only eight, but I don’t give a damn. I’m going to bed, and if that makes me a pussy, so be it.

I’m just pulling my shirt over my head when my cell rings. I consider ignoring it, but a quick glance at the number has me dismissing that thought immediately.

“Hello.”