Page 15 of Wait For It

His eyes sparkled with amusement as he dropped onto the newly vacated chair. “A shepherd would recognize a member of his flock anywhere. Has Don recovered from his shoulder surgery?”

He was just laying it on thick today.

Instead of considering that someone within the church had played detective, Dr. McEvans was clearly fighting the urge to drop to her knees in exaltation. They conversed for several minutes before she reluctantly excused herself to check on another patient, and Tristan began packing my things.

“Like I was saying, I would have been here sooner, but the phone has been ringing off the hook this morning. First, CNN and then Fox News—everybody wants to hear how you’re doing. I told them once we got you settled in atTrue North, I’d be willing to fly out for interviews.”

And there it was… proof that there was just no limit to the things he would do to remain relevant. Although, if he’d found a way to capitalize on my misfortune, maybe he wouldn’t look too hard into why I’d taken off in the first place. Even without the tightening in my gut, I knew the idea was little more than wishful thinking.

“I’m going to reach out to Justin Thomas again and see if he’d be willing to join me. It’d be good press for his facility. You remember him, don’t you?”

Forcing my lips into what felt like a smile, I nodded. Everyone at church knew and liked Justin. The former wide receiver for theHouston Thunderand founder ofTrue Northnever missed a service. He’d even spoken one Sunday not long after his facility opened about the game that changed his life.

Justin made a miraculous catch during the 2004 Super Bowl, leading the Thunder to a last-second victory. In his own words, the resulting brain injury cost him his career but led to him discovering his purpose.

Initially, he’d foundedTrue Northfor individuals with brain and spinal cord injuries like him. In the last five years, it had become a sort of mecca for sports injuries as well. As difficult as it was for me to admit, if I wanted my memory back, then Justin’s facility was my best chance at recovery.

I could also use my time there to my advantage. While Tristan was busy pandering to the press, I planned on discovering exactly what I’d been running from the night of my accident.

Once my things were packed, Tristan held court for the small crowd who’d gathered near the back of the private van he’d hired. Meanwhile, I scanned the hospital parking lot for something of interest, almost disappointed by how ordinary everything seemed.

Where was this land of lawlessness I had always heard about?

“Folks,” Tristan drawled. “You’ve done so much for my baby girl.”

His southern accent was almost as strong as when he was preaching a sermon, supposedly it made him more relatable to the blue-collar demographic. Apparently, they were a widely underrepresented group within the church.

Pastor James, he’s just like us… only with a private jet and a net worth of fifty million dollars.

“I can’t ever thank y’all enough for taking care of her while I was trying to get back home from Haiti.” His eyes held mine as he said it as if I needed to be reminded I was the reason his trip had been cut short. Then, he blinked, and the mask slipped back into place. Blinking was one more thing Tristan believed conveyed trustworthiness.

“Won’t you just fill the offerin’ plate this mornin’?”

Blink. Blink.

“God is just waitin’ to bless you if you’re willin’ to step out in faith.”

Blink. Blink.

Dr. McEvans made a choked sound, and I looked up just in time to watch a tear make its slow descent down her cheek. “Of course, I forgot that your foundation is based there. Just know it was our pleasure caring for her, and we’ll be praying for her recovery.”

She didn’t look at me once as she said it.

It only hurts if you let it…

Tristan grinned. “Belinda, I would love to pray over you and the rest of the medical team right now. Would that be alright?”

Soft murmurs of eager acceptance rippled through the crowd. In their minds, being prayed over by the Tristan James was probably equal to receiving a blessing directly from above.

The nurse joined the driver up front, leaving Tristan alone in the back with me when the van doors were slammed shut. I wanted to believe it was the frigid air being blasted throughout the cabin that had the sweat-dampened hairs on my arms raised.

It was a warning.

An urge to flee.

When he reached into his pocket, the breath caught in my throat.

He’s going to kill me…

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