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“No. Call Marjorie from here, Letty.”
The door opens, and it’s Pastor Braden.
“Oh thank goodness, Pastor—”
Pastor Braden’s eyes take in the scene of me practically cowering behind my desk, the big biker hovering over my desk. He frowns.
“Letty, what’s going on in here?”
His harsh tone takes me by surprise, but the worry that flashes in his eyes when the biker straightens puts me on edge. Well, more on edge than I already am.
The biker turns and crosses his arms. “Braden, just the man I’m looking for. We need to talk.”
“Mr. Hollister, I’m not sure we have anything to talk about,” Pastor Braden says, his voice quivering with unmistakable fear.
“I’m sure that we do. You want to talk here in front of your adorable little guard dog, Letty, or would you prefer to let her go on thinking you’re a good Christian man?”
I gasp in shock at his words. “Pastor Braden is a good Christian man.”
“It’s all right, Letty.” Pastor Braden holds up a hand to stop my defense of him and nods. “Let’s go out to the gardens to talk.”
“But, Pastor,” I call after him in confusion. “This man is not a good man.”
He turns back to me with a smile. “It’s not our place to judge a man’s path, Letty, only to steer him onto a better path. Back to work.”
He smiles, but all I can see is the fear that darkens his eyes and slumps his shoulders in resignation, or maybe it’s defeat.
Something is going on with this biker, and I know it’s not good.
I drop down into my chair, but the minute the men are gone, my gaze wanders over to the church gardens until I see them. From this vantage point, they look harmless together, a rough and tumble man seeking spiritual guidance from a spiritual leader, but I know that’s not what’s going on, even if I don’t know what exactly is going on.
The pastor seems afraid of the big biker, but the question is why?
And how do I find out?
