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Opening my eyes, I unlink my hands and press them against the mattress as I push myself off the dingy floor.
“Has God ever answered you?”
I startle at the sound of Don’s voice, and only then do I realize the running of water from the shower has stopped. Swallowing, I steadily turn to face him, my mind going on the fritz when I find him leaning against the doorframe wearing one of the motel’s scratchy towels around his waist. I lose focus as my eyes catch on a bead of water as it courses a path through the ridges and valleys of his abs before being soaked up by his towel.
His rumble of laughter and how it makes his muscles tense and skin ripple pulls me out of my trance, and I snap my gaze up to his. “Huh?” Mischief gleams in his eyes, momentarily softening them. “Oh. No. Not that I’ve ever seen, anyway.”
“Then why do it?”
“Because God expects loyalty. Besides, maybe he does answer me, just not in ways that I can see or understand.”
With a smirk playing on his lips, he pushes off the doorframe and prowls toward me. Once he’s directly in front of me, the fresh scent of soap invades my nostrils, along with the ever-present hint of gasoline. It’s like he bathes in the stuff, and it’s fast becoming an addiction of mine. “You think God is giving you the strength to avoid temptation?” He reaches out to stroke my hair before brushing his fingers along my jaw. “And what temptation is it you’re struggling with?”
The countryside passes by in a colorful blur as the wind whips at my hair and stings my cheeks. After I made a quick escape from Don’s half-naked presence, we dressed and got on the road. We’ve been traveling for several hours, and I’m really hoping we’re nearly at our destination. I worry that once we stop, I won’t be able to unfreeze myself from this position. My muscles have been tense for hours now, and each one is screaming at me for a reprieve.
As soon as the thought strikes, Don slows the bike, and I peek over his shoulder as we turn off the main road onto a narrow track lane. Trees overhang the path, blocking out the sunlight as we leave any hints of civilization behind.
I cling tighter to him as we bounce along the road, and just when I think my ass can’t take any more of this abuse, we arrive at a set of wrought iron gates. Bringing the bike to a stop, Don types a code into the keypad and the gates creak open, granting us entry.
Curiosity has me peering over Don’s shoulder as he pulls forward. More of the same track road greets us, seemingly endless as we continue for another mile. Eventually, the trees part and the wind swallows my gasp of shock as the area opens up to reveal a large sandstone church on a backdrop of snow-capped mountains and a running stream that opens into a large lake, surrounded by tall Douglas firs and spruce trees.
“What is this place?” I ask in awe when Don turns off the engine. In the silence, the place seems even more remote and isolated. It’s beautiful, in an eerie sort of way that has the tiny hairs lifting along my arms as I drink it all in.
“My home.”
Tearing my eyes away from the natural landscape, I turn to gape at him. “You live here? In a church?”
The last place I would have ever expected to find the Devil is in a religious sanctuary, yet it makes perfect sense on some level. Nothing is more sacrilegious than the desecration of holy ground, so why wouldn’t the Devil claim God’s space for his own?
Climbing off the bike, Don holds out his hand. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
I place my hand in his and allow him to lead me up numerous steps to the chapel door. Stepping inside, I’m immediately met with a large, open-plan living and kitchen area. Most of the sandstone walls have been left exposed, climbing all the way to the rafters far above. Along with the light shining through the large two-story windows, it offers a bright and airy space which Don has filled with modern furniture.
Open-tread stairs at the far side of the room lead to a second-story loft, and large sliding doors open onto an outdoor patio.
The entire place is beautiful beyond belief. Far more glorious than the drafty, dilapidated church I went to every Sunday with my family, with its pews that would give me splinters and windows that didn’t keep out the cold air.
I can sense Don’s eyes on me as I survey his home, cataloging each one of my reactions. “Master suite with its own bathroom is upstairs,” he explains, indicating the loft. “The rest is this way.” He points toward a door at the back of the church, and I follow him through it into the bell tower. It’s bigger than I expected, with stairs leading upward to the top of the tower and another set descending into the rock.
“Bathroom.” He points to a closed door. “Everything you need should be in there. Downstairs is the gym, and it leads to the crypts and tunnels that go to the lake and elsewhere. Probably best if you don’t venture down there alone.”
I nod in compliance, having no interest in getting lost down there or somewhere out in the wilderness, before following him up the stairs to the top of the tower. “Wow,” I breathe, cresting the top step and spotting the windows on all sides, offering a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view around us. In the center of the room are a massive bed, a cozy nook with a table, chairs, and a rug in one corner overlooking the lake and mountains.
“This is your room… for now.”
“It’s beautiful.” I saunter further into the room, my gaze constantly returning to the windows as I walk around.
“I’ll get you some old clothes of mine for now and have someone drop over something more suitable.” He hesitates, watching me closely before saying, “I have an event here tonight that I want you to attend.”
I tear my eyes away from the surrounding scenery. “What event?”
“I’ll explain it to you tonight.” He must see my anxiety as he steps into me, grasping my chin in one hand while the fingers of his other brush through my hair. “It’s nothing you need to worry about. I told you that where I come from, you’d be treated like a queen. Tonight, I want to show you exactly how true those words are. You’ll never be scorned or ridiculed again, I promise.” He holds me captive in his onyx depths, sincerity bleeding out of him. “I’m going to make you my queen, and the whole world will bow at our feet.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
After Don leaves, I grab a quick shower. I discover he’s left a pair of worn sweats and an old t-shirt on the bed while I was in the bathroom, and I quickly pull them on before moving to sit in the chair by the window.
It’s already growing dark outside, the sun disappearing behind the mountains and casting the world in shadow. I can’t figure out what he could have planned for tonight or what he meant about being treated like a queen. It had been an odd statement the first time he said it, but I had dismissed it as him simply trying to make a point. However, there was no denying the sincerity in his eyes when he repeated those words. I can’t fathom a world in which I am considered a queen. Where people would look up to me instead of treating me like the cursed being I am.
