Page 10 of Devil's Advocate
“I… uh,” I started, rubbing the back of my neck.“It was different than I expected.”
“Different?”Daddy’s voice sharpened.“How so?”
I exhaled.“They weren’t doing anything bad, Daddy.Just… talking.About kindness mostly.Freedom.I mean, yeah, there were a lot of tattoos, some piercings, but nothing like what the media says.Nobody was worshiping the devil, far as I could tell.”
Silence hummed on the line, dangerous as a fuse burning down.Then Daddy’s voice rose, tight with outrage.“You listen to me, Jimmy.That’s how the serpent works.He makes the apple look sweet!Don’t be fooled by the master trickster himself!”
“I’m not fooled,” I blurted.“It’s just—maybe it’s not what we thought.”
“Not what we thought?Boy, you sound just like them!Satan’s clever.He’ll dress himself in light if it gets him followers.”
“Maybe,” I muttered.
Daddy barreled on.“You’d better find the evil, son.You hear me?The people need to see it.This story could bring the ministry back into the black.God told me plain as day—you’d find the devil in Richmond, oh yes He did.And it’s your job to show him for what he is!”
I pressed my forehead into my palm.“Daddy, I…” The words came before I could stop them.“I think there’s nothing to find.Maybe I should just come on home.”
The line went silent.For a heartbeat, I thought he’d hung up.Then came the roar.“Don’t you dare, boy!You stay in Richmond until you have proof.Proof of sin, proof of corruption.You don’t come home until you bring it!”
“Daddy—”
“Don’t backslide on me now!”His voice cracked like a whip.“God’s watching, Jimmy.Don’t disappoint Him.”
The line went dead.
I lowered the phone slowly, staring at the black screen.My reflection blinked back—tired eyes, a mouth drawn too tight.
With a sigh, I set it on the counter and rubbed both hands down my face.The quiet rushed in again.I unfolded the sofa bed, turned out the light, and sank onto it, shoes still on.
The ceiling was low, the kind that made you feel boxed in.I shut my eyes, listening to my heartbeat settle.
Lucien’s face rose behind my eyelids.The memory of him—calm, amused, alive—sent a strange warmth through me.The most striking man I’d ever seen, and I couldn’t imagine calling him evil.
I rolled onto my side.The scene from earlier replayed again: the two men under the candlelight, leaning in, their lips touching.I waited for the wave of shame to hit, but it didn’t.
Folding my hands, I pressed them to my chest.“Lord,” I whispered, voice shaking, “am I really supposed to be here?”
ChapterFour
Lucien
By the time I hit the crest the hill on Broad Street, my lungs were on fire.Morning sunlight cut sharply between the row houses, gilding the cracked sidewalks and broken beer bottles like they deserved a blessing.
“Come on,” I muttered to myself, hands locked behind my head as I forced air in, slow and steady.Richmond mornings always made me feel like I was running through ghosts—old brick, old sins, old stories that refused to die.
I’d woken up restless.Not the usual kind of sleepless night that coffee could fix.Something had been gnawing at me since last night’s ceremony, something I couldn’t name.The crowd had been good, the energy high, and the message solid.And yet… there’d been a face that wouldn’t leave me alone.
Golden-brown eyes, wide and wounded.
I shook my head hard and tried to outrun it.
When Sean called bright and early, asking if I could help prep breakfast for the soup kitchen up in Church Hill, I said yes before he’d even finished asking.I figured the run there would bleed off whatever strange energy still buzzed under my skin.
By the time I reached The Hill Café, sweat slicked down my spine and my heart was still racing.The place smelled of bacon and old coffee, and for a second, I felt almost normal.
Daisy spotted me the second I stepped inside.She’d been working here since forever—queen of the morning shift, curls piled high and lipstick brighter than the sunrise.
“Well, look what the devil dragged in,” she teased, grabbing a menu she knew I wouldn’t use.“You want your regular, sugar?”
