Page 95 of Their Will be Done

I push the thought out of my mind. It’s pointless trying to understand, especially when the answer is but a question away.

Gabriel wants to see me? Well guess what…?

Idohave questions for him.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Trinity

Ispend a good half hour fussing with my hair as I stare at my reflection in the restroom mirror.

Stalling.

Trying to convince myself that going to see Gabriel is for the greater good, even if I’m not sure I actually want him to answer my questions.

Eventually there’s nothing left to do but to start climbing those stairs.

I’m so deep in thought that I don’t notice his door is open until I’m about to walk through.

I pause.

Should I announce myself or just go in? He did invite me and I doubt he’d leave the door open if he didn’t want me to come inside.

The antechamber’s door is partially closed. I step up to it and touch my hand to the worn wood before I hear their voices.

Thank God I stop to listen.

“I’m nothing like you! I’llneverbe like you!”

I flinch and snatch back my hand. What is Zachary doing here? I back up, intent on turning tail and getting the hell out of here, but then I hear Gabriel’s voice.

Compared to Zachary’s outburst, his soft reply is barely audible. I move closer to the door and put my ear right by the crack.

“…only hate…for so…”

Speak up, damn it.

I move closer and push gently at the door so it swings a little wider. Zachary stands in the middle of the room, silhouetted by the fire.

There’s a hand on the back of his neck.

“…nothing more to do but forgive.”

I slap a hand over my mouth when Zachary twists away with a grimace on his face. Had Gabriel just tried tokisshim? I stagger back, but I can’t bear to take my eyes away from them.

“So you can fuck a man, but you can’t bear to kiss one?” Gabriel moves closer but Zachary retreats until his back is flush with the wall.

“It might feel like less of a sin but trust me, God has already condemned you to hell.”

What the fuck?

My heart’s in my throat as they glare at each other. The tension from whatever argument they were having before I arrived presses down like gravity on steroids.

I half-expect them to break into a fight, and the thought has my chest so tight I can’t breathe.

My brain works overtime as I try to piece together what might have happened.

Is this because I told Zachary I wouldn’t come back here? Did he decide to get the data himself? I turn, scanning the room through the door crack. The bed looks rumpled, and my stomach sinks.

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