Page 77 of Lethal Danger

The similarity sent another spasm of pain through his chest. “I should see if I can find him.”

Rebekah nodded. “That would be terrific. I’m really glad I found you. I wouldn’t have known how to find you if you weren’t a famous writer.” She smiled, though not up to her usual bright standards. “I bet you were surprised to get a message from me through your website.”

“To say the least.” Hawthorne dredged up a smile, too. “But I was very glad.”

“Really?” Her eyes widened, cautious hope flickering in them.

“Absolutely. I’m thankful God brought us together again.”

She quirked her head. “You believe in God?”

“I do. I believe anything that’s true. And there’s no denying God is the ultimate Truth.”

“Huh. Are you like a Christian?”

He smiled at her wording. “I’m a Christian, yes.”

“I can’t go there. Not after being taught lies and getting indoctrinated into a big spiritual con my whole life. The God thing is just like another big brainwash.”

Hawthorne met her gaze. “I get why you’d think that. I was afraid of that, too. My skepticism kept me from believing in God for quite a while. But then a friend helped me see that because I was so alert to spotting lies, I’d be able to test everything about God and Jesus Christ. So I did. After I encountered the evidence, I couldn’t deny God really exists, the Bible is true, and Jesus died for me and rose again to give me eternal life.”

“I don’t know. I hear other stuff in school. Everybody has a different truth.” Rebekah shifted against the cushions and looked away, as if the topic was making her uncomfortable.

Probably enough of that for now. But since she was hurting emotionally, he’d leave her with one thought. “Let me just say this. That loneliness you’re feeling, the grief of leaving our family behind because we had to—the only thing that has helped me with all of that has been my relationship with Jesus.” Hawthorne caught her gaze in his and held it. “God is our perfect Father, Jesus is our truest Brother and Friend. He can fulfill all your needs and heal what needs to be healed.”

Rebekah stared at him for a few seconds, a mass of thoughts seeming to cycle behind her eyes.

It was a lot to think about, he knew. Maybe he’d give her an out so she didn’t feel pressured to make a decision about anything now. “I hate to cut this short, but I should get some writing in this morning.”

“Okay.” She nodded, a look of something like relief relaxing her features as she stood and gathered her things. “Oh.” She spun toward him as she slung the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “I was wondering…” She caught her lower lip with her teeth. “Would you maybe want to go see a movie Friday night?”

“You mean with you?”

“Yeah.” She lifted her shoulders and glanced away. “Or we could do something else. Just hang out.”

He opened his mouth, about to say yes. Then closed it. He wouldn’t be doing her any favors if he became her crutch while she was vulnerable. She’d end up throwing away her freedom for closeness, for a relationship that could end up burdening and restricting her. She’d regret it later, when she found she’d given up some of the freedom she’d originally sought.

“It looks like I’m going to be working the late shift at the fair.” At least that’s what he’d managed to switch to for tonight, after he’d received Jazz’s text about her change in schedule. “I don’t think I’ll be free.”

“Okay, sure.” She turned away, but not before he caught the disappointment in her eyes.

His stomach clenched as he followed her toward the front door. He didn’t mean to make her feel badly. But she’d thank him later, when she’d gotten through the fragile, lonely phase and reached the point of cherishing the freedom she would still have if he didn’t interfere.

She paused by the door and faced him again. “Did you warn her?”

He gave Rebekah a look that probably communicated his confusion.

“The friend you’re sending into BL.”

When she put it that way, it made him sound almost cowardly. Or uncaring. Like he was sending Jazz into a dangerous situation. “Warn her about what?”

“About the cult. The brainwashing. You don’t think she’ll get sucked in, do you?”

“No.” The answer came quickly, even instinctively as he pictured Jazz, strong and independent. But doubt crept into his mind. “I think the people who fall for that want to in a way. They’re looking for answers and help. She isn’t like that.”

Rebekah shrugged. “If you say so. I’ve seen some pretty smart people believe it anyway. There’s something kind of weird and creepy there.”

She looked away, her gaze seeming to stare beyond the painting on the wall near the door. Maybe at a distant memory. “It’s like it feels dark all the time. Like something’s watching or hanging on to you, and you don’t know if it’s human or something…else.” She blinked and jumped her gaze back to Hawthorne. “But maybe it wasn’t like that when you were there.”

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