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“Unholy spirit, I demand, in the name of Jesus Christ, that you leave this place and cease to torment Grace Garrett, as she is God’s own forever.”
Colder air wafted over him as he climbed the stairs. Perhaps it was just a change in temperature, though heat tended to rise, so that made no sense. The hairs on his forearm prickled. He spoke louder. “In the name of Jesus Christ, I demand, unholy spirit, that you leave this place and cease to torment Grace Garrett, as she is God’s own forever.”
She is almost mine.
Amos froze. The words were only in his head, but they sounded as clear as if someone had whispered them directly into his ear. “Never.” He spun around and started down the stairs again, chasing the chill he had sensed earlier. “Get out, in the name of Jesus Christ!”
Whipping up his energy, Amos bore down on the entity, holding his crucifix before him. If his men on the Team saw this, they would share knowing looks, he was sure. They all thought him half-crazy anyway. “Grace Garrett will never be yours, for she is God’s own forever. As God is for her, nothing caneverbe against her, so it is written. Now begone!” He ended up yelling the words, and every inch of his skin ridged with goosebumps.
Breathing fast, he listened, sensing the atmosphere for the least suggestion of hostility. The air seemed undisturbed, of consistent temperature. He cast his eyes about, curious to note that the shadows pooling in the corners of the room seemed to have lifted. Of course, the sun might have skated out from behind a cloud outside. Modern-day reasoning suggested he had done nothing but fool himself, but intuition whispered that God had worked through him to unfurl a wing of protection over her.
“Amen.” With a nod, he slipped his crucifix back inside his T-shirt and let himself out. Grace sat in the cab of his truck, looking pale and tense. He marched up to her door and pulled it open. “It’s gone. You’ll be safe now.”
The words captured Simon’s attention. “What’s gone?”
“A big cockroach,” Amos told him as he opened the door for Grace.
She slipped out of the truck, taking comfort in Amos’s touch as he handed back her keys, then grabbed her arm and escorted her toward her home.
“Don’t be afraid. Remember, evil feeds on fear. Just think through it, like you did when you steeredCamelot. If anything should happen, you have my number. I can be here in twelve minutes.” He escorted her right up on her stoop.
She turned and faced him. Amos waited, hoping for a softening in her. They had gotten to know each other so much better in the past twenty hours, or so.
“Thank you, Amos.” Her expressive brown eyes met his. She went up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I had fun today.”
“As did I.” There seemed to be something she wasn’t telling him, a “but—” that went unarticulated, only he was too pleased at the fact that she kissed him, albeit on the cheek, to think clearly.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Aye. Be safe.” He backed off her stoop as she let herself inside. Leaving her here felt all wrong. He wanted to stay with her and protect her—not just today but evermore.
First, however, he needed to make up for separating her and Mateo. Even though it was the weekend, Commander Monteague would probably receive and read his email. If the three SEALs who’d accompanied him the first time couldn’t go back to Colombia this soon, that was fine. Amos would still have the help of the men he was training, and he would do whatever it took to convince them to take him to Casuarito, a short boat ride away from Puerto Ayacucho. If he brought Mateo safely home with him, Grace would surely give her heart to him, then.
* * *
Standing in her foyer, Grace sensed immediately that something was different. Perhaps it was just the bright sun casting a luster on her kitchen countertops. A rectangle of sunlight lay across her sofa, too, warm and inviting. She crossed to it and sat down, then went straight to her Nextdoor App to advise the military couple that they could have her condo on Monday. She supplied her phone number so they could reach her more readily.
Getting no immediate reply, she swept an eye over the lower level of her home. Apart from a couple of framed photos, there wasn’t much here of a personal nature that needed to be put away. But the couple had a baby, so those vases she’d inherited from her grandparents were going in the highest kitchen cabinet.
Once she had tucked the photos and vases in the highest cabinet in the kitchen, she made her way upstairs, tensing in expectation of running into the soldier lurking in wait for her. But the atmosphere remained inviting. Whatever Amos had done, it seemed to have worked. How extraordinary that the man she’d loathed on sight had become her defender. She never would have guessed.
Scanning her bedroom, she realized there was more here that needed to be packed away. The same was true of Mateo’s future bedroom and her home office, situated in the tiny third bedroom built over her single-car garage. In lieu of carting everything up the rickety pull-down ladder to the attic, she determined it would be easier to store her stuff in the home office and simply buy a different kind of doorknob, one that locked with a key.
Her cell phone chimed, signaling a new text.
Hi, this is Tracy texting you about the rental. Wow, what a relief! Can we see your place just to make sure it’s right for us?
Grace drew a deep breath.Sure, but are you okay with just two bedrooms? I need to store my stuff in the smallest room.
Two bedrooms is all we need.Tracy added a smiley-face emoji.
Great. I’m home this evening if you’d like to see it today.She had already provided her address in the original ad.
We’re visiting family tonight. Can we come tomorrow morning, say 9 A.M.?
Perfect. See you then.
Grace put her phone away and considered all that she had to get done before their arrival in the morning. The most important thing was a rental agreement, which she could download from the Internet. Next, she would move all personal items into her office. Lastly, she needed to run to the hardware store for a special doorknob.
