Page 106 of That Sik Luv

I pull back from his embrace, looking up and into the eyes of a man I once thought I could trust.

“Briony,” he breathes, gripping my face with both of his hands, his caress gentle and warm.

I stare up into those piercing blue eyes before studying the cuts of his prominent cheekbones, the sharp edge of his strong jaw, and the full pink bottom lip that protrudes slightly further than the top, seeing such a resemblance to his older brother that it just can’t be unseen.

“I was worried sick about you,” he admits, scanning my face with his eyes. “I even went to the airport where they said you’d run, just to go with you. To help you find your parents and sort this out.”

I stare blankly at him, trying to understand.

“They said you ran because of me. Because of what happened.” He shakes his head, his eyes peering at my lips in remembrance, regretful shame in his slumped shoulders. “I felt awful. I couldn’t let you fall because of something we both did. It was so unfair how they’d pinned it all on you as if I wasn’t the one there, kissing you back.”

Kissing me back. My mouth goes dry at his statement.

“I never posted that video, Saint. You have to know...” My eyes well with tears, tears that are welcomed considering the topic at hand.

But my tears aren’t for him. They’re for the old me. The girl that always wanted to stand up for herself, to do what was right, but felt the weight of her commitments around her. The girl who’d never imagined a world where revenge was sweet and justified.

“Come here,” he says quietly, peering behind me as he grabs my hand in his large, protective grasp.

He guides me towards the utility closet in the classroom, pulling me inside before closing the door behind him.

Out of sight. Aero will be thrilled.

My hands tremble at my proximity to the man I need to pretend to trust with everything I am. My mind circles back to the blade strapped to the inside of my thigh, but my legs close tightly, yielding the need for it.

“I don’t know what you’ve heard, but this place is rumbling with chaos,” he declares, leaning against the wall, still holding my hand. “I overheard my father discussing the situation with Alastor Abbott.”

My ears perk up at the name.

“They say there’s a madman out on the hunt. An excommunicated member of the church who was put away for a gruesome crime many years ago. He’s escaped from prison, disgruntled over his own fallout with Christ, looking to terminate Christians and believers alike. He has everything to do with the state of chaos our community is in.”

The lies they’re feeding the public. Disgusting.

“Whoever he is, they also suspect he took Jacob,” he says with a hitch in his tone.

“How? How is this possible?”

“The deacon...” he begins with hesitation, shaking his head. “They say he killed himself, but I don’t believe it for a second.” His expression hardens. “The deacon was murdered.” He takes a quick breath. “My father said the bishop’s term is ending and they want me to step up. Especially now, when there’s no one to guide our flock amidst the crumbling of our institution.”

Hilarious how the scarlet letter stuck to me so well, even with a suspected killer on the loose. I was never to be considered for a position in our clergy, even though my academic grades and achievements outweigh those of Saint’s. Never was there hope for me to hold a legitimate title in this church at all. It was always going to be a man before me. In a world where male domination is a prerequisite for control, equality was never a forethought.

As Aero so eloquently said, I’d pushed and pushed until I pushed too far. Thank God he took me to his cabin when he did. They’d have erased the stain of condemnation by now without question had they known my whereabouts.

“But you’ll be a target, Saint,” I whisper, worry lacing my words. “Why do they want to expedite the process of making you bishop? Especially with everything happening? Why are they rushing this? You’re still so young.”

“I’m already a target,” he declares with a regretful sigh. “My Jeep, remember? Not only was it vandalized that day with you, but it’s now stolen, taken right here from the school parking lot. Seen leaving the church right before they found the deacon. He wanted to frame me if the suicide assumption didn’t stick.”

My chest practically caves and my palms gloss over with sweat at the memory of the Jeep. The memory of that day in the confessional. Luckily, the lack of cameras in this town couldn’t have tracked the Jeep far. Knowing Aero, any and all footage has already been wiped.

“I’m needed,” Saint continues. “It’s time I step up the way my father always hoped I would.”

Needed. In order to keep the Westwood name in the chain of command, using their influence to continue the sickening cycle of power and control over this town. I bite back the expression I’d love to use and wear my concern on my sleeve.

“I’m scared for you.” My eyes crinkle in the corners as I squeeze his hand in mine. “I’m scared for myself.”

“Shh, it’s okay now.” He pulls me back into him, wrapping those arms tightly around me again. “You’re safe, Briony. I’m just so happy you’re back. I was sick, wondering where you were. I-I missed you.”

A lesser woman would’ve believed his lies.

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