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“Then don’t. He can’t force you to do something you don’t want to do.”
I turned my head, looking at him, meeting those crisp, clear blue eyes. Set in skin that was a few shades darker than white, he truly was a stunning specimen of a man. Handsome, although I still felt a little weird thinking that, due to him being a priest. He wore the fancier robes now, the same robes he’d worn during the ceremony above his usual black vestments.
“As you said,” Ezekiel went on when I said nothing, “it is your life. You should decide where your life goes.” He gave me a smile after that, and that smile, though a small one, made something inside me twist.
If he was a killer, what other sins would he commit against his God? What other temptation would he give into? I shouldn’t wonder these things, nor should I care, but again, those pesky hormones in me just couldn’t seem to settle down.
“How are you feeling now?” he asked.
“Okay. Still stiff. It hurts if I move a certain way. I’m getting my strength back, slowly but surely.” Something occurred to me then, images of Ezekiel the night he’d crashed the party in the woods flashed in my mind. “You know how to fight.”
He said nothing, but the corners of his lips still quirked upward, almost as if he knew what I was about to say.
“You were good that night,” I said. He knew how to deflect, how to dodge, how to misdirect; he also knew how to attack. He knew everyone underestimated him because he was a priest, and he used that fact to his advantage. “No one saw you coming. Would you…” I hated asking this. I hated acting like I needed help, but it was clear someone wanted me dead, and my money was on Atlas and his men.
I couldn’t let myself or my skills wither away while my body healed. No, I had to train.
“Would you be willing to help me? Zander won’t train with me, and my father would put a stop to any trainer I’d hire.”
“You want me to help train you?”
Nodding once, I said, “Yes, that’s what I’m asking. The last thing I want to do is stand around and wait for someone else to try to kill me. I want to be ready when they come next.” I wasn’t certain if I had him on the hook or not; his expression truly was like a mask. “I would be in your debt—more so than I already am.”
“You don’t owe me a debt.”
“But you… you did something for me already.” I couldn’t exactly say that he’d killed for me; saying that while sitting in a church felt wrong.
The intensity radiating off Ezekiel would’ve made me flinch if I wasn’t prepared for it. “You don’t owe me anything for what I did for you, Giselle. I would gladly do it again if I had to. You are not indebted to me.” He quieted, though he still stared at me with those pretty sapphire eyes. “And as for your question: yes, I will help you.”
I wanted to smile, but I didn’t. I settled with saying, “Thank you, Ezekiel.”
“I told you, you can call me Zek.”
Now it was my turn to let my eyes linger somewhere they shouldn’t: his mouth. It was only for a moment, and it was over far too soon. I looked away, getting to my feet. “I think I’ll stick with Ezekiel.” I watched as he stood up with me, walking with me out to the main aisle. “When should I come? Or are we going to meet somewhere else?”
“Come here. We’ll start Monday at midnight.” Ezekiel paused. “Unless you’ve already changed your mind?”
We stood about a foot apart in the main aisle of the church, and for a moment, I couldn’t believe it. Here I was, with another priest, making plans to see him after midnight. Only it wasn’t for a forbidden tryst; it was for a fight club between him and I.
I wasn’t saying I wanted to spend loads more time with him, but after everything, I’d learned I wasn’t opposed to it, either.
“Once my mind is made up, I’m not easily swayed,” I told him, and I didn’t say anything else before spinning on my heels and sauntering away. I made it to the doors of the church all too soon, and I paused.
A part of me wanted to throw a look over my shoulder and see if he’d watched me walk away, but I didn’t. I resumed my pace, walked outside, and got in Zander’s car, where the man waited for me with a scowl on his face.
“Well?” Zander demanded. “Are you going to tell me what you and Damian talked about or what?” If I said he sounded jealous, well… that wouldn’t be anything new. He was damn near jealous of any man that looked in my general direction. It both annoyed me and gave me a weird sense of satisfaction.
I told him. What I didn’t tell him was that I had plans with Ezekiel at midnight, starting Monday. Hey, I’d made it to the Playground without Zander stalking me once, so I knew I could do it again and come to the church.
I knew what Zander would say if I told him. It was a bad idea, blah, blah, blah. How did I know I could trust Ezekiel, blah, blah, blah. That sort of stuff. All logical, yes, but nothing I wanted to hear. The shits I gave about being logical right now were nearing their all-time lows.
Dying wasn’t on my agenda. Whoever wanted to kill me would have to work for it.
The lights of the Playground were low. I couldn’t see anyone else, which I thought was odd; usually the main room of the club was full of masked people getting it on in all sorts of combinations. Men with men, women with men, women with women, and every other combination you could think of with adding extra bodies to the mix.
Myself? I didn’t know if I could ever be with more than one guy at a time. One was more than enough. Sometimes one was too much. But to be with two, or three? Or, hell, even four? I couldn’t imagine it. I just couldn’t. What did you do with all those hands, all those dicks? How did you keep track of everyone’s body parts? I didn’t know.
I stood before the stage, staring at the empty place. Low jazz music played on the speakers, creating an atmosphere that made me wish I wasn’t alone here. I… I couldn’t even remember how I got here, but that was beside the point. There was only one thing you did when you were in the Playground, and that was either watch people have sex, or get fucked yourself.
