“False religious adulation by whacked-out people is pretty damn scary. I mean, look at Jonestown and the Branch Davidians. Shit gets epically crazy when they realize that you’re a fake and then turn on you.”
As he pulled the car onto the road, Catcher reached over and took my hand in his. “Don’t worry. I won’t let the crazy Bible Thumpers get you.”
I giggled while trying not to swoon like a lovesick school girl at his words. “Thank you.”
He winked. “Anytime.”
True to his word, Zeke was waiting on us outside the emergency room doors. “How is Ezra?” I asked.
“Doctors haven’t been out yet, but the paramedics told me while he has a rough twenty-four hours ahead of him, he should be fine.” He smiled at me. “Thanks to you.”
I held up my hands. “There’s no need to thank me. I’m just grateful I paid attention in that seminar during my forensic science degree on wildlife injuries and deaths.”
Since the waiting room was packed with people, Zeke gestured for us to go outside. We followed him out the mechanized doors and over to a secluded side of the hospital.
Catcher cocked his brows at Zeke. “Is all this secrecy necessary?”
“Yes and not just because I’m on probation.” He reached into the back pocket of his pants and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. After we refused his offer of one, he lit up and took a long drag. He glanced left and right before exhaling a puff of smoke. “Our entire ministry is a lie.”
“You don’t say?” Catcher responded, amusement twinkling in his eyes.
“There’s nothing spiritually different about Ezra. You see, all his life he’s been a faithful guy. About fifteen years ago, he felt the calling to start preaching. He tried to start several churches, but they all eventually failed. It all boiled down to the fact there just isn’t anything special about him. After visiting a snake-handling church, he decided that was his true calling.” Ezra shook his head as he took another drag on his cigarette. “I tried ‘til I was blue in the face to talk him out of it, but he was bound and determined to do it. As luck would have it, it was around that time I ended up being thrown in county lockup for public drunkenness.”
Catcher snorted. “Nice.”
Ezra stomped out his cigarette. “Hey, I never said I was the overly faithful one. You could call me the prodigal son at best.”
“Gotcha. So what happened when you were in lockup?”
“I shared a cell with this guy who had been arrested earlier that night for public lewdness.” At what must’ve been my curious expression, Zeke said, “He was screwing women on a pool table at the local bar.”
Heat flooded my face. “Oh,” I murmured at the same time Catcher questioned, “Women?”
Zeke nodded. “Apparently, he’d done two already and had a line of volunteers waiting to be next.”
“Interesting. And I have to say I’m on pins and needles to find out how the fuck this relates to a snake-handling ministry.”
Zeke scowled at Catcher. “I’m getting there. Anyway, so after banging two chicks and being arrested, the guy is still hard as a rock. He tells me that it’s this male enhancement drug he’d been using. It could keep him going for hours, not to mention it gave him an extra inch.”
Catcher crossed his arms over his chest. “Really?”
“Yeah. Really. Since I’m curious about the product, I asked him where he got it. Said some guy he met at this nudist colony—”
“They actually prefer nudist resort,” I argued. Both Catcher and Zeke shot me a look. “Sorry.”
“Like I was saying, he’d been to a party at the nudist colony, and he met this guy who was a pharmacist and made his own drugs.”
Catcher cut his eyes over to me before looking back at Zeke. “Did he mention what the guy’s name was?”
“Yeah. He gave me his name and private number—Randy Dickinson.”
My breath hitched at hearing Zeke speak Randy’s name. I glanced at Catcher to see how he was going to handle this development. “Did you meet up with Randy to get some male enhancement?”
“I wasn’t just interested in that. It was more about what Randy could do for the ministry. You see, I figured if Randy could make a man enhancer, then he might be able to make an antivenin, so that Ezra could handle snakes but not get killed.”
Ah, now it was all starting to come together. “So Randy made you an antivenin?”
Zeke nodded. “The best part was he made it where it would be a preventative measure, not after the fact. That way Ezra never knew. I just slipped a few drops into his water every day, and bam, he was good to go. When he started getting bitten and not dying, word grew of his gift. The crowds at the tent meetings doubled, even tripled, overnight. We started collecting lots of money in love offerings.”
Catcher cocked his brows at Zeke. “I’m sure more money was spiritually rewarding for you.”
“It’s never been about the money for me—it’s about Ezra’s happiness.” When Catcher gave Zeke a pointed look, he held up his hands. “Fine. I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t admit that the money was an added plus. But let me assure you that Randy’s shit doesn’t come cheap either.”
Drop Dead Sexy
Katie Ashley's books
- Don't Hate the Player...Hate the Game
- Music of the Heart (Runaway Train #1)
- Music of the Soul (Runaway Train #2.5)
- Nets and Lies
- Search Me
- Strings of the Heart (Runaway Train #3)
- The Pairing (The Proposition #3)
- The Party (The Proposition 0.5)
- The Proposal (The Proposition #2)
- The Proposition (The Proposition #1)
- Beat of the Heart
- Melody of the Heart (Runaway Train, #4)