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“You do what you have to in order to survive in this world,” Ezekiel whispered. “Now tell me what led you to your Father’s church three years ago.”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I flexed my fingers, once again staring at my gloves. “I said my father has done worse things to me than possibly having me shot. I meant it. He’s never… my whole life, he’s always acted like I was a burden to him. With my mother dead, he’s all I had, so for the longest time, I believed everything he said. I was loyal to him, did whatever he wanted, all because I was his daughter.”
“True loyalty doesn’t come with sharing a last name,” he said. “It comes by choice.”
“I know that now, but I didn’t back then.” I gulped, something in the back of my throat. I drew in my feet, my boots scraping against the carpeted floor as I did so. “My father was doing business with another man, and that man wanted to sweeten the deal. He wanted me for a night.”
When I’d told Luca, he didn’t react the way I’d hoped. He still wasn’t really talking to me. A part of me understood, because I’d just told him what a sleazebag his father was, and I doubted he’d ever really given much thought to it before.
Because of that, I had no idea how Ezekiel would react. Granted, he wasn’t close to Rocco, not related to him, so maybe things would be different tonight.
“My father agreed, told me it was my duty to do what he needed from me, so I did. I was with that man for a whole night. I used to think my father never wanted me to date because he wanted me to save myself for my future husband, but he never really cared about any of that. If he had, he wouldn’t have given me to Rocco. The things he did to me—he wasn’t gentle. He wasn’t kind. It hurt, and the feeling of those hands on me… I’ll never forget it.”
“Rocco? As in, Rocco Moretti?”
I shut my eyes. I shouldn’t have said his name. I should have kept it to myself. And yet, it was too late to take it back. Slowly my eyes opened, and I stared straight ahead at the altar. “Yes. Isn’t it funny how both he and my father are now up for a position on the Hand?” I chuckled. “Oh, and let’s not forget how I’m now engaged to his son. I’m going to be seeing a lot more of that man, and short of running away, there’s nothing I can do about it.”
Ezekiel didn’t say anything to that. He was probably processing most of what I’d said, namely the whole engagement thing.
“I don’t mind Luca. At first, I hated him because of who his father is, but… but he’s nothing like Rocco. I don’t want to marry him, though. I don’t want to marry anyone. Three years ago, I almost killed myself after doing what my father wanted, and I don’t want a repeat.” I turned my head to stare at Ezekiel, to see if his expression had changed at all.
A muscle in his jaw had tensed, a vein popping out of his forehead. He looked… pissed. Not the reaction I thought I’d get, but one I’d take. I’d take anger over a quiet awkwardness and slight denial any day, honestly. I just hoped he was furious on my behalf.
He didn’t say he was sorry. He didn’t ask for any more details. He was quiet, but he seethed.
He suddenly got up. “Come. There is something I want to show you.” He offered me his hand to help me up, and for a moment, I just stared at him, unblinking. This was a switch from how he’d been before, and I couldn’t lie: he was kind of attractive when he was actually showing emotion. Pissed off Ezekiel was a sexy Ezekiel.
Again, not a thought I should have, but one that entered my brain, anyway.
I then looked at his outstretched hand. He’d offered me his hand that night in the woods, after our fight. But now… hadn’t we moved past that point? Me being afraid to touch him, me too anxious to feel his bare skin on mine?
Life was a revolving door, never stopping. You never knew when you were going to get off, so make the days and the moments you had count.
I slipped off my right-hand glove, clutching it in my left hand tightly. I didn’t think about it. I didn’t let myself. The only thing I did was reach for his hand, feeling his bare fingers curl around mine as he pulled me to my feet. My breath caught, my heart twisting. Our hands clasped together, our fingers intertwined.
Ezekiel’s hand was softer than I thought it would be, and his grip was worlds gentler than I’d anticipated. It felt right to have his hand in mine, and I angled my head back to meet his eyes, finding that cerulean stare bore into me like no other stare could. Those eyes, set in skin a few shades darker than mine, were a stark contrast to what I was used to. I was so accustomed to my father’s black eyes, their soulless weight, so being beneath his stare was something else entirely.
Like he’d been waiting for me, waiting to catch me in his web.
“Follow me,” he said, breaking whatever moment was between us by pulling away and leading me to the back of the church.
My hand felt strange without its glove, but I didn’t put it back on. I held onto the glove, trailing after him, not knowing what it was he wanted to show me. I’d never been in the back of this church before, and I knew with how peculiar of a person he was, it could be anything. Literally anything.
And yet, I trusted him. I didn’t know why, but I did. I trusted Ezekiel, and that came as a shock to me. After all, I didn’t know him, and he… well, I was about to say he didn’t know me, but after my confession earlier, he knew me a lot better than almost everyone in the world.
We walked into a short hall, and we turned to the second door to the left. He reached into his pocket, finding a key, and he unlocked the door with a flick of his wrist. He reached inside, flipping on a light, illuminating a staircase that led down into what must be a basement area. Without a word, he headed down.
I stood at the top of the stairs, not quite hesitating, but also not very gung-ho. Basements were never good. A basement of a church? I never thought I’d see one, didn’t even know they existed. A lot of gory horror movies took place in basements, but would that stop me from going down there after him?
No.
I went down, step by step, catching up with Ezekiel, who waited for me at the base of the stairs. His expression was back to being unreadable, and he turned to head deeper into the basement.
It wasn’t an unfinished space. From what I saw, it was his living space. We passed a bathroom, along with a room that must be his bedroom. I supposed it made sense, since this church was located in downtown Cypress and it was nestled between two business buildings—there was nowhere for him to live except on site.
We stopped in front of another door that was closed, and he turned toward me. The lighting was better down here than in the actual church, something I found ironic. It helped me notice the slight squint in his eyes, the way his mouth had thinned somewhat. Still attractive, and yet I could tell he was uncertain about whatever this was.
“Ezekiel,” I spoke his name in a whisper, “what’s this about? What—”
