15. Chapter 14
Chapter 14
Eden
T he strong smell of a roaring fire hits us in a cloud of smoke, forcing both Aiden and me to cough. The scent of weed and oak mixes in the air, the smoke dense and suffocating as it seems to follow us. Aiden hadn’t pressed me further on what was going on between Father Briar and me, and our drive here was mostly quiet.
The mountains swallow the sun, casting the sky in rich, fading colors. I hitch my bag higher on my shoulder, wondering why I even bothered to bring a swimsuit. The chance of me letting anyone see my body is slim.
But I’d let Roman see my body. I’d let him do a lot more than just see it.
I push thoughts of Roman away as we reach The Overlook. A group of five is gathered around the fire. Someone strums on a guitar as the others chat idly. Seeing Zack’s piece of shit car parked by the others, I shove down the nerves threatening to surface .
The fear I saw in Zack when I walked into the cathedral was both alarming and satisfying. But now, it feels like I have a target on my back after what Roman did to him.
Aiden suddenly stops and grabs my hand before the others notice us, his eyes scanning me with concern. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about what happened at the cathedral? Was Zack there? Did he say something to you?”
"No, nothing happened," I smile, hoping that it’s convincing enough to get him to move on. "Spending time at the church feels like torture," I admit, not entirely lying.
Time alone with Roman is torture.
Torturous how much I want him to explore my body.
Exploring whatever is happening with Roman any further leads nowhere good. When I’m with him, it feels like I’m on top of the world, flirting with danger. But the moment I’m away, it all comes crashing down, leaving me alone with my vicious thoughts.
"We can come up with an excuse so you can skip your service hours," He suggests, smiling, trying to help with the little he knows.
"I appreciate it, Aiden," I reply, squeezing his hand. "But I’d rather Dad focus on what I’m doing right than what I’m doing wrong."
Aiden frowns, clearly displeased. "The last thing Dad deserves is for either of us to care about what he wants.” He shakes his head, turning away from me as a familiar voice calls out to us,
"Aiden, Eden!" Zoey calls out, her dark curls bouncing as she waves us over, clutching a drink in one hand .
Luca stops strumming his guitar and looks our way, his eyes meeting mine with a smile, stirring a warmth in my chest.
This is someone I should be focused on.
This is someone safe.
Roman is dangerous. Forbidden. Fleeting. Nothing more than a test.
And one I’ve failed miserably.
As we walk up the hill, I see a few people passing a joint around, pausing as we approach, throwing us a welcoming smile. Everyone, that is, except Zack.
His hood is pulled low, hiding the bandage on his head, his eyes deliberately avoiding mine.
Cups filled with bright red liquid are passed around, and I notice two boxes of wine sitting on a log—the same kind used for Communion.
The irony isn’t lost on me.
Luca sets his guitar aside and pats the spot next to him. I sit, tucking my hands into my pockets as his shoulder nudges against mine.
"Glad you made it," Luca says, his voice warm and welcoming. Zack and Nathan both lower their heads as Aiden joins us, the tension palpable.
I guess Aiden’s been keeping his distance since everything went down.
"What the hell happened to you?" Aiden asks, taking the joint from one of the boys, his eyes narrowing at Zack.
"Zack managed to slip and hit his head on the holy water fountain," Zoey says, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she takes a long drink .
Zack glares at me, his expression a mix of anger and unease, as if he’s waiting for me to challenge the lie he’d told the others.
I meet his gaze, my voice low and deliberate. "You should be more careful. It could’ve been a lot worse.”
The tension hangs in the air, thick and heavy. There’s an unspoken understanding between us—a threat wrapped in the guise of concern.
Zack shakes his head and takes a drink, his eyes fixed on me. "How were service hours with Father Briar, Eden?" Zack sneers. "Did you learn anything...useful?"
I shift uncomfortably, glaring at him.
"He seems like a real jackass," Luca says, staring into the fire. "Not that I’ve had many run-ins with the guy."
"Who’s Father Briar?" One of Luca’s friends asks, but Zack cuts me off before I can respond.
"Saint Michael’s new priest. You should see him. He looks barely older than us. And has some fucked up looking tattoos," Zack snaps. "He seems to like Eden. Really like. You know, I’m way behind on my service hours, but not once has he taken a personal interest in me—"
"I told him about what you did," Aiden interrupts, his voice sharp. We turn to look at him.
"What the hell does he mean?" Luca puts his cup down, leaning his elbows on his knees, and stares at Zack.
"Go on, Zack," Aiden spits. "Since you’re so eager to stir shit up, why don’t you tell our new friend here how you ripped Eden’s sweater off—"
"It’s fine, Aiden," I whisper, cutting him off.
"Eden— "
"I said it’s fine!" I snap, the group falling into an uneasy silence. I lock eyes with Zack, my voice low and dangerous. "Zack knows exactly what will happen if he’s that fucking stupid again."
"Right," Zack mutters, nodding as he takes another drink. "Because I’m the one who needs to be careful, isn’t that right, Eden?" He adds, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Jesus, you all sound fucking feral.” Zoey rolls her eyes, hiccupping loudly as she fills her cup with more wine. Once she’s finished, she walks to where we sit, nudging Luca aside, shoving her cup into my chest.
"Drink it. Trust me, I think you’ll need it."
"Eden doesn’t drink," Zack taunts. "She skips it every Communion. What’s the reason for that, Eden?"
Zack’s taunting words hang in the air, and I can feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on me. For months, I’ve resisted—avoided alcohol like a plague. Not because I’m some devout saint but because I know what happens when I let my guard down.
But tonight, everything feels different. The tension, the pressure from Zack’s relentless needling, the constant push and pull with Roman—all of it weighs on me like a suffocating blanket. The taste of rebellion, of doing something that everyone least expects, suddenly feels like a way to regain control.
I glance at the cup Zoey pushed into my hands, the red liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim. A part of me knows this is a bad idea, that it’s a step backward, but another part of me—the part that’s tired, frayed, and desperate for a way out—wants to drown out the noise, if only for a little while.
Maybe it’s the twisted need to defy Zack, to show him I’m not as predictable as he thinks. Or maybe it’s the creeping realization that Roman has burrowed deeper into my psyche than I’d like to admit, and I just need something—anything—to push those thoughts away, even if it’s temporary.
“Eden, you don’t have to do that if you don’t want to,” Luca says softly, his voice a calm anchor in the storm that’s raging inside me.
But even Luca’s warmth, his gentle presence, isn’t enough to stop me this time.
I give him a small, reassuring smile, but it feels hollow. My hand tightens around the cup, and I make my choice.
"The reason I don't drink, Zack," I hiss, lifting Zoey’s cup to my lips and taking a defiant swig of the bitter red liquid. The taste is harsh, but I don’t stop. I drink until the cup is empty, the red wine dribbling down the side of my mouth. I swipe it away with my sleeve, feeling the warmth settle uneasily in my stomach as I stand to refill the cup.
"Because the last time I did, I woke up in a hospital room," I say, my voice cold as I pour more wine into the cup. I stare at the red liquid, the memories it stirs, making my skin crawl. "And I was no longer a virgin," I mutter, glaring into the cup. The group is silent, their eyes fixed on me as I down the second cup without hesitation.
"The worst part," I say, my voice trembling, "is that the only thing I remember clearly... is the sound of my own screams."
I throw the cup into the roaring fire and shove my hands in my pockets. I glance at Aiden, his face pale, stricken.
"That night, I came home," I whisper, the words tasting like ash. "I ran away from the hospital before they could call Mom and Dad." My breath shudders as I continue. "Eric got away with all of it. And so did every other guy in that fraternity he let into the room with us."
The alcohol hits me hard, my empty stomach amplifying its effects. I grab the hem of my hoodie and pull it up, revealing the deep scratch marks Eric left, now mingled with the razor cuts I inflicted on myself afterward.
"My collarbone is still healing," I say softly, touching the still-discolored skin. "So are my ribs."
The healing nail marks sting as I run my fingers over them. "He grabbed me so hard when I tried to get away that he tore off some of his nails."
I turn to Zack, shaking my head in disgust.
"I started cutting the day after I got home," I whisper, biting down hard on my inner cheek to keep from breaking. "So there’s your fucking story, Zack." My voice sharpens as I snatch a bottle of vodka from Nathan.
"Feel free to tell God," I say, popping the top off and raising the bottle in a mock toast. "I couldn’t fucking care less what He thinks."
With that, I take a long, burning swig from the bottle and walk away, leaving the group in stunned silence. No one dares to say a word as they watch me go, the weight of what I’ve revealed hanging heavy in the air.
"Eden," Luca calls after me, his voice tinged with concern, but I keep moving, heading toward the water’s edge .
A hand catches my arm, pulling me to a stop. I spin on my heels, ready to snap.
"Luca, I don’t need you looking at me like some kicked puppy. That wasn’t the point.” I hiss, glaring at him. “I don’t need any more religious pricks in my life pretending to care about me.”
He closes his mouth, takes a breath, and then, to my surprise, steps closer.
"Who said I’m just another religious prick?" He asks, his voice steady. "And who says I don’t care?" His hand reaches out, cupping my face, his thumbs gently brushing over my cheeks.
I grab his wrists, my eyes narrowing. "You don’t know me," I whisper harshly. "Why the hell would you care?"
He shrugs, his gaze steady. "Look, we could spend weeks getting to know each other, building something, or you could just accept that sometimes, people care even after just one meeting," He says, his hands gently returning to my face. "Do you think I actually enjoy hanging around a bunch of potheads and dealing with Zoey’s chaos?" He smiles slightly, shaking his head. "Aiden’s cool, but I came here for you. To get to know you. Father Briar messed up our first shot, but he’s not here now," He says, glancing around before looking back at me. "So, tell me to fuck off, or let me in and show me who the real Eden Faulkner is."
Before he can say another word, I close the distance between us, pressing my lips to his. He pulls me in, and I wrap my arms around his neck, leaning into the kiss. His lips are soft, but I need control—something real. I bite down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. He gasps against my mouth, his tongue slipping past my lips as the kiss turns fierce and raw. The taste of his blood mixes with the wine on my tongue as he backs me into the nearest tree, the rough bark scraping my skin.
Pain is good.
Pain is needed.
"Shit," He breathes, pulling back slightly, a drop of blood on his lip. "I didn’t mean to shove you that hard—"
Grabbing his collar, I pull him close.
"I'm not breakable, Luca," I hiss. "Don’t treat me like I am."
His eyes widen, blood still on his lip. My mind flashes to Roman—
I drag my tongue across the blood on Luca's lower lip, and he stares at me in disbelief, the tension in his body unmistakable, his dick growing hard against me under his dark grey sweatpants.
I wait for him to take charge, to grab me, to do something—
"Maybe we should slow down," Luca says, his face flushed.
Fuck.
I screwed up.
Running my hand through my hair, I lean back against the tree.
"I’m sorry, Luca. I know that was a lot—"
"It’s not that," He says, his voice softening as he looks into my eyes. "It’s just... I want this to mean something, Eden. Not just for tonight, but for real. And right now, it feels like you’re carrying a lot of weight on your shoulders. I don’t want to be another thing you regret in the morning." He runs his hand down my arm, taking my hand. “Besides, I don’t think Aiden needs another reason to be pissed off tonight," He adds with a gentle smile. Luca’s kindness shines through, a light in all this darkness .
The problem is, I don’t want the light.
I crave the dark.
I crave Roman.
But it’s wrong.
It’s all so wrong.
"Hey," Luca says softly, stopping me from biting my nails. "Can you look at me?" I hesitate but then meet his gaze.
"I don’t regret anything that just happened. The blood thing was new," He admits, touching his lip nervously. "But it was far from a turn-off if that’s what you’re worried about. I just don’t think touching you while you’re drunk is the right thing to do."
God, this man is so kind.
Why the fuck am I dryer than the Sahara Desert right now?
"Right," I force a smile. "I guess I got a bit carried away."
"Apologize," Zoey demands, dragging Nathan and Zack over by their ears, with Aiden trailing behind her. Luca’s friend follows, barely holding back his laughter.
Luca stands in front of me, looking pissed, while I lean back against the tree, trying to steady myself.
The boys stagger to a stop, both of them clearly embarrassed.
"Apologize, or I’ll have someone hold you down while I kick you square in the dick," Zoey threatens, her voice sharp.
"Fine, alright—I'm sorry, Eden," Nathan mutters, shaking his head in defeat.
"Good," Zoey snaps. "Now you, Zack."
"It’s fine," I interject, glancing at Zack’s bandaged head. "Right, Zack?" I ask, my voice softer as I watch him closely .
"Water under the bridge, Faulkner," He says with a smile, though there’s something unsettling in his tone. "So, where’s this lake Zoey’s been going on about?"