“No,” I whisper.
He growls, low in his throat and then pulls me against him. My tiny body presses deep, molding into every part of him, and the comfort I’ve been seeking comes flooding back, like it always does when we’re together. He wraps an arm around my waist and lifts me so my face is the same level as his, then he brings his lips down over mine, soft at first, then rough and deep. I let him kiss me, even though I shouldn’t. I let him because it feels so damned good.
He pulls back after only a few heartbeats.
“Stop. Looking. For. Me.”
“No,” I say again, my knees wobbling, but my voice firm.
“Jesus,” he grunts.
“I’m staying at Hotel Belair. If you want to see me for real, so we can talk about all of this, then come and find me. If not, I will keep coming here. I’m not going to stop because I’m invested now. I was there; I saw what those monsters did, and I saw what they’re doing to that girl. I’ll go to the police, with or without you. The choice is yours.”
He opens his mouth to speak, but I get into my car and slam the door, effectively cutting him off.
Then I drive away, feeling the strongest I’ve felt in weeks.
***
He doesn’t come.
I stay in my hotel for two nights. He doesn’t come. Each passing hour, my heart sinks because it just makes me realize I made a mistake. Maybe he really doesn’t want me to look for him, and that scares me. What could he be into that is so dangerous he literally can’t contact people? Or maybe he just wants me, and my craziness, to go the hell away.
I am acting exactly like what they’re accusing me of at the moment.
I went home this morning to collect my phone. It was sitting on the kitchen bench, and beside it, a note from my dad. I called him as soon as I left and assured him I was safe, but staying in a hotel for a little while because I wasn’t ready to go back to the house and face it all. He begged me to talk to Gerard, and I promised I’d call him, but I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet, either.
I just arrived back at the hotel room after going out for some Chinese food. I’ve been sitting on my laptop for hours, researching everything I can about cults and how they work. The more I read, the more terrified I become over the fact that they’re so deranged and twisted. Worse, that one person can manage to change the minds of so many. Do people truly believe God would want these things?
Extremists. That’s what they’re called. Their mission is beyond extreme. It is horrifying.
I shove a piece of cashew chicken into my mouth when my phone rings beside me. Gerard’s name flashes on the screen and I reach for it right away, picking it up and answering. “Hi,” I say softly after I’ve swallowed my food.
“Lucy,” he says, and his voice is brisk. “I’m just calling to let you know I’ll be needing access to the house to get my things tomorrow.”
The coldness in his voice hurts me. He’s never spoken to me like that.
“And tell her she’ll need to find a lawyer to handle the divorce papers and a settlement,” his sister yells from the background.
That explains why he’s so cold. Anytime Heather is involved, his mind is instantly warped. She’ll be loving this.
“You have a key, Gerard,” I whisper, my voice too tight to make an appearance. “You can go in whenever you want. Can’t we talk about this?”
“I don’t wish to enter until I know that you’ve granted permission. It makes me feel better.”
Bloody lawyers.
“Listen,” I say, trying to stop the hurt from coming into my voice, “I know things have been hard, but can’t we talk about this like adults and without your sister interfering?”
“Are you still looking for that man?”
“Gerard . . .”
“Then we’re done, Lucy. This is for the best. I’m not going to argue; it doesn’t need to be a messy divorce. All we need is to sort this out and then move on civilly.”
“You’re really just willing to hand it all over, after everything?”
“I can’t take it anymore, and you’re not willing to try either, so yes.”
“Our relationship has changed. And, you’re asking me to tell you I’m crazy, and that’s not going to happen, because I’m not.”
He sighs. “I’m not going over this again. You’ve made your choice. I’ll be at the house at ten a.m. tomorrow.”
“Are you going to protest if I come and talk with you?”
He goes silent for a few minutes. “If that’s what you need to do, but my mind is made up.”
Then he hangs up on me.
Jerk.
I shove more chicken into my mouth when a knock sounds out at my door. Narrowing my eyes, I stand and walk over, opening it. I gasp when I see Heath, his face bloodied, standing at my door, his body coated with sweat.
“Oh my god,” I rasp. “What happened?”