Page 128 of Those Who Are Bound

“Oh. Well, okay. The group meets after service anyway, every other Sunday. This Sunday, in fact.”

Elliott nodded once and turned toward the door. “I’ll think about it.”Opening it, she asked, “What time?”

“Service is over at noon.”

Elliott walked out, the question,Does he know?echoing in her head.

He knows. He knows, he knows, he knows…

The rocks had fallen over. It’s what happened; it was nature. Nothing remained as it was, nothing was permanent. Everything passed, and you could build again; recreate. Start over.

Gage had given her those words, that lesson, as she’d sat on this very stump and watched him struggle to find his Zen with those stacking rocks. Watched him build art that would topple in the midwestern storms.

Lessons he hadn’t paid attention to, in the end.

But she kept the little sanctuary, all the same. Something of his, something good of his.

Tipping back the bottle of beer, she stared at the fallen rocks over the greenish cast of the glass. At the moment, she didn’t have the energy to right them, stack them, create something new. Not when she’d destroyed, devastated, and knocked over something she’d wanted.

For his own good, she reminded herself. She knew what she was capable of doing to another person. As much as it hurt now, turning him into something as crumbled as that pile of rocks would be more horrific.

The crunching of twigs alerted her to him. Of course it was him. Lucy had already gone home, and she wouldn’t stride along with such confident determination.

The look he gave her when she flicked her gaze to the path slammed into her like a physical punch. Not harsh, but a solid hand around the throat and push up against the wall sort of impact. Possessive, unhesitating, and driven. The wolfish side of him on full display; her entire body lit up.

Her heart and mind rebelled.

“What are you doing here?”

“I told you I’d be back.” He approached the stump, noticed the beer. Stopping a few feet away, he stared at her expectantly.

She pushed. “Back to try to convert me? It won’t work.”

“Stop.” He took in the fallen state of the rocks, then dismissed them. Returning his attention to her, he pointed out, “Couples from different religious backgrounds and beliefs have successful relationships. Like I said, this is not a deal-breaker.”

“Not today, you mean. But at some point, it will be.”

“What do you mean?”

“At some point, you’ll expect me to fall in line. To be what you need me or what everyone expects me to become. I know how you all operate, how you all think.”

“Enlighten me.”

His tone should have given her pause, but she barreled ahead, “Assimilate. You’ll resent me when I don’t. You’ll hold it over me and judge me and find me wanting when I do not want to be a part of your holy little world.”

He canted his head and looked at her with mock incredulity. “Who’s holier than thou now?”

“You pious prick.”

“No, no you don’t,” he warned, his voice whiplash strict. “The only one judging right now is you. I’ve made no demands other than asking for a conversation.”

“I’m not… Do you see why this won’t work?”

“No. You’ll have to do more than throw a tantrum to convince me.”

She glared at him.

“This is surmountable.”

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