My hand remained tightly in his clasp. “Have you felt any different since communion?” He looked smug, like there was a secret only he knew.
“I don’t believe in religion.”
“You don’t feel closer to God?”
I sighed. “I don’t believe in the whole ‘this is my body’ and ‘this is my blood’ thing. It's just wine and bread.”
The corner of his mouth tilted. “What if the blood believes in you?”
There was no way to answer that, so I went back to watching his stare in the mirror and pondered the strange questions. He didn’t seem very pastoral to me, everything about him screamed transgression, as if he consciously led others to damnation in his spare time. He oozed anger, lust, and a suggestion of violence. My short visit to his church had ended with a tiny snack that wouldn’t have satisfied a toddler.
“Maybe you need to give your congregation larger portions?”
Stefan’s eyes widened for a moment and then he laughed. He laughed hard enough to let go of my hand while I watched hisshoulders convulse. He’d almost seemed like a normal man for a few fleeting seconds. Then the lift stopped, and the doors parted, and he was back to his signature brooding.
The elevator opened to a pristine underground garage, walls and floor coated in a sleek black finish with recessed lighting fixed overhead. He took my hand in his and we stopped next to a German sports car—also black.
“Get in,” he ordered, after opening the door for me.
Tucking my skirt, I hopped inside. We rode in silence until I realized he somehow knew where I lived, following the exact path to get there. “How did you know where I live?"
“I didn’t; Ilya told me.”
My head buzzed. “How did he know?”
His lips pressed into a line. “It's better if I don’t tell you.”
“What can you tell me?” I watched late-night drunken stragglers laughing their way down the sidewalk as we passed through downtown, the sight reminding me of Kiara and Madison, and looked away.
Stefan glanced at me before returning his gaze to the road. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“That’s not true,” I said quietly. “Do you know how hard this is for me?”
He glanced at me again and my breath caught in my throat. He didn’t answer me, but he didn’t have to. The look of longing in his eyes told me this was all just as hard for him. He wanted to tell me, but he wouldn’t.
He kept me in the dark continuously, pushing back at every question I asked while pretending not to care. Things were happening that involved my friends and I, and no one would tell me anything. My limits were being pushed.
People disappeared, men’s eyes glowed, I kept waking up somewhere else, there was glittery snow that supposedly almost froze me to death, and my boyfriend was probably cheating onme. To top it off, I was sitting next to a man that so very obviously had feelings for me, but he wouldn’t act on them the way I wanted him to.
My walls were slowly coming down, everything was different, and it terrified me. There was no way I wouldn’t get hurt and it was all happening too fast.
Stefan pulled up to the curb and I let myself out of the vehicle. Before closing the door, I thanked him dismissively, but he got out and walked around the car anyway. Without saying a word, he walked me to the front door, his gaze scanning the property.
“The motion sensor lights will come on in a moment,” I offered, helpfully.
“I don’t need them.”
He looked over my shoulder as I faced him. “Thank you,” I repeated, again. He stood unmoving. “Um. Thanks?”
“Open the door.”
I scratched my head and then punched in the security code before walking inside. “Don’t you need to leave?” I asked, placing my purse on the side table in the entryway.
“Yes,” he said, brushing past me.
My heels clicked on the flooring as I followed him. He stood in the living room, examining everything around him. Silently, I trailed after him while he perused every room in the same manner. Satisfied with the interior, he opened the back door and stepped onto the patio and completed the same actions, looking everything over like there was a sniper hidden somewhere.
Again, I followed him while he finished and until finally, he returned to the front door. “What was all that about?” I asked.