Chapter 28 #2
For so long, I told myself I was so weak, so sinful, for kissing him that first time.
But now it’s starting to feel like I was wrong, not in the action but in the regret, because I’m responding to him just as readily as before.
My pulse pounds. My skin tingles. There is nothing else in the world except for where he’s touching me, nothing but his heart and mine.
I’m immediately lost in the sensation, the warmth of his lips and the solid press of his body against mine.
That magnetic pull tugging me toward him every time we’re near each other only intensifies with our lips moving together.
When he slides his tongue against mine in a slow, sinuous movement, my mind erases any thought except more, more.
I need to be closer to him. I need more of him. All of him.
I’m not aware of us moving until my back presses up against the wall.
Wes uses this additional support to shift our bodies, silently urging me to climb higher.
I open to him willingly and eagerly, wrapping my legs around his waist, feeling his grunt of pleasure as he pushes up against me.
He’s hard, pressing into me, and I am already getting wet and pulsing with need through my layers of clothing.
His groan makes me tighten instinctively, and when he thrusts up against me, I gasp into his mouth.
It ought to be ridiculous, the two of us grinding against each other frantically, still fully clothed. But our mutual need is too strong. It ought to feel shameful. It is shameful. I’m proving everything my uncle has said about me right. I’m taking what isn’t mine.
Only this time, it is mine. Wes is mine. And it doesn’t feel wrong. How could it be wrong if it feels so right?
After a few moments, he’s the one to pull away, breathing heavily as he rests his forehead against mine. My heart is racing, and it’s a struggle not to chase his lips with mine, not to demand more, more. It feels like there could never be enough of us.
His eyes gaze intently into mine, the connection even more charged than usual at such a close proximity. “We can leave, tonight. Together.”
“What about your investigation?” It’s not really a question, more of a reminder.
I know this isn’t just a job for him. He must believe in what he’s doing to put his life on pause and pretend to be someone else for days, weeks, months at a time.
And I can’t be responsible for asking him to throw that all away.
“I don’t care about the investigation,” he says quickly. Too quickly.
I pull back so I can give him a look. I can’t help it—he sounds so much like a petulant child, and it’s obvious he doesn’t really mean that. “Sure, Jan,” I tell him.
I wasn’t trying to be funny, but the conversation was heading to such a dark, tense place that I think we’re both relieved for the reprieve. He laughs, and I laugh quietly with him as he shakes his head at me. “Jan?”
He clearly has no idea what I’m referencing. “You know, the GIF? I think it’s from one of those Brady Bunch movies.” At his blank expression, I do my best to mimic the actress’s skeptical expression. “Sure, Jan,” I repeat. “It was a popular GIF for a long time!”
He shrugs. “I guess I’m not much of a GIF-fer.”
“Why not?” I’m genuinely perplexed. GIFs are amazing! They’re a much easier way to relay what you’re feeling, rather than trying to put it into words. Words can be tricky, but images convey so much more. “They’re so convenient. There’s a GIF for every situation, you know.”
Wes is still smiling, but it has a tinge of sadness to it. “Oh, yeah? What’s the GIF for this situation—two people who want to be together but can’t because of circumstances?”
His words send a heavy stone sinking to the bottom of my gut. Still, I do my best to consider his question seriously. “Probably the guy with the backpack lying down on the floor in despair.”
We consider one another for a long moment. Wes reaches up to brush some of the hair out of my face. “What do we do, Nina?”
“I don’t know,” I admit.
I want to be the brave heroine in a fairy tale, the kind who would be willing to do anything for true love.
But in real life, it all feels so much more complicated.
I don’t want Wes to jeopardize his career for me, and despite what he’s saying now, I know that the investigation matters. To him and to me, both.
If Wes stays involved, though, that will mean more standing by and watching him with Harmony. I worry about what that will do to me. To him. To her. Harmony has always been a flirt, but what if she starts to really fall for him? What if it’s like what happened with my cousin Miriam all over again?
The thought sinks like lead to the pit of my stomach. I can’t let myself dwell on it anymore without feeling physically ill.
Now I’m the one who’s wavering. How can the investigation be a good thing if it has the potential to hurt so many people?
“Will you tell me what Uncle Aaron has done?” I ask him.
I know finding out all the sordid details won’t give us a solution to our problem, but maybe it will help me to understand, really understand, why Wes is doing what he’s doing.
And maybe that will make all of this easier.
“Morrie explained that he’s been siphoning money from the churches—but how does he get away with it? ”
Wes searches my gaze. “Are you sure you want to know all of this?”
“I need to know,” I tell him, quietly but firmly.
Running a hand over his face, Wes sighs.
“Your uncle’s MO seems to be setting up a second-in-command everywhere he goes, someone he very publicly positions as his right-hand man or woman.
On the surface, it probably seems to most people like your uncle is the face of the church, and this other person is in charge of the operations—and that might be true, mostly.
But your uncle oversees all of the paperwork and expenditures.
He doesn’t take any large amount at once, just quietly skims off the top here, sets up a fake charity to receive donations there.
Then, when questions start getting asked, he makes a very public plan to leave town to start a church elsewhere.
But he leaves enough of a fake paper trail behind him that if anyone starts to ask questions, it makes it seem like his second is the one who’s been committing the crimes.
” He shrugs. “Sometimes they take the fall. Other times, no one seems to have noticed—or someone covers up the tracks to prevent a scandal.”
I take a moment, processing all of this.
I think of Richard Moore, Sally Jasper, Rodney Tuttle, and others who are too far back for me to remember well.
They were like members of our family once, so entwined with Uncle Aaron that it felt like they’d always been part of our lives.
I don’t know why I never thought it was strange that we never heard much from those people after we left, despite how close we’d been.
Most of them were kinder to me than my uncle and aunt ever were.
Understanding what happened to them—how they were lied to, cheated, tricked, all because they wanted to believe in something bigger and better than themselves—makes my stomach churn.
Abusing someone’s trust, making them believe they’re the ones at fault, because of greed or to cover up your own despicable actions .
. . it’s hard to think of anything worse you could do to another human being.
I should know, I realize with a sinking heart. Isn’t that exactly what Uncle Aaron has been doing to me for almost my entire life?
How much Aunt Hope is wrapped up in all of this, I’m not sure.
It’s hard to imagine that she could be completely in the dark, but it’s also hard to imagine that she would intentionally do this to someone like Sally, who would laugh with us in the kitchen while we made Christmas cookies.
And what about some of my older cousins?
The thought makes me uneasy. Are any of them complicit? Miriam? Elijah?
Harmony?
We won’t know the answers, of course, unless Wes and Morrie are successful with this operation. “Why don’t you just arrest Uncle Aaron if you know all of this?” I wonder aloud.
Wes shakes his head. “Not enough evidence. He’s guilty. We know he’s guilty. We have witnesses who can testify to that much, but he’s just too good at covering his trail. We need something concrete to be able to put him away.”
It doesn’t escape my attention, the way Wes is already grouping himself back into that we who’s going to bring Uncle Aaron to justice. He might claim that he can walk away from this investigation, but he clearly can’t, at least not without giving up some part of himself.
Sighing, I look up at the ceiling. A little help here? I ask silently. What am I supposed to do?
To Wes, I pose another question altogether. “What are you hoping to get from seducing Harmony?”
He winces at the word choice but obviously can’t argue with it; that’s exactly what he’s come here to do. “Access to Aaron Miller. Obviously, ideally, I could get a confession out of him directly. That would be the express-lane version, which unfortunately isn’t very likely.”
“And the slower version?” I prompt, sensing he’s not telling me something.
Wes takes in a steadying breath. Uh-oh. That doesn’t seem like a good sign.
“I win Harmony’s trust during the show. We continue to date afterward.
Then over time, I gain Aaron’s trust, and he either takes me seriously enough as Harmony’s boyfriend that he invites me into the family business, or I potentially become his next fall guy.
Either way, I get access to documentation that we can use to indict him. ”