Chapter 15
Morgan
Heat clings to my skin — that thick Georgia summer kind that smells like asphalt and gasoline and doesn’t move even when the breeze does. I lock the door of my BMW and tug down my dress. It’s red, spandex, and dangerously short. Daddy would not approve.
“Dang babes, you are hot in my dress,” says Ingrid, who sports an equally sexy pink dress.
“Thanks. You look great too. Do you think anyone will recognize me?”
“No. You look too different, and it’s dark. We will be just two regular girls tonight.”
“Awesome,” I whisper, and catch my reflection in the car window. My hair is pulled into a sleek ponytail that tugs my scalp tight. Smoky shadow, heavy lashes. Unfamiliar. Still, my gold cross flickers near my collarbone, a quiet contradiction I didn’t bother resolving.
I spot Jack who is talking to a group of guys next to a car. He smiles with his whole face, the kind that pulls people in without asking permission. The kind that makes women shrink as they step closer to him.
His tattooed hands move animated, and I can feel his excitement from a distance.
I loop my arm around Ingrid’s elbow, and we walk over.
“Hey, Jack,” I say, interrupting them.
The group turns and looks our way. Jack’s eyes blow wide.
A guy with curly blond hair whistles low and extends his hand.
“Ladies. Ladies. How are ya?”
I shake his hand, but he pulls it to his lips, giving it a playful kiss. His eyes are red and he seems intoxicated.
Jack yanks my hand free and drags me a few steps away.
“What is this?” He gestures to my body.
“I looked up pictures of these events. This is how the girls dress.”
“Yeah, cuz they want to get railed.”
My heart stutters. It’s not like I ever dress this way. I wanted to fit in. Be free for a night from the modesty I wear like a second skin.
And make Jack drool.
Instead, he looks angry.
I point at a car to deflect. “Do you like that one?”
He squints at me for a moment, but forces himself to look in that direction. “It’s fast. Real fast.”
I step towards it, and he follows. I glance over, admiring the red and black ink painted down his arms. I wish he’d hold my hand.
Gosh, this guy makes me want simple things like they’re more valuable than gold.
But I’m a fool for playing with fire. Jack is an impossible man. We would never work. I shouldn’t be seen with him outside of a church, let alone come here to tempt him. It is unfair, because if he made a move, I can’t act on it.
I recall Ingrid’s words: I cannot be with Jack.
Still, I’m here.
Despite my best efforts to stay away, Jack is someone I want in my life. Texting is great, but not enough. I keep replaying those moments I had with him. I yearn to feel his hands on me, feel the stubble of his jaw against my cheek, and taste his kiss once more.
We get to the car, and I snap out of my memories.
The vehicle is low, white, and older. He talks about the horsepower, the throttle, and how they did something to the engine.
I hang on every word, trying to absorb what interests him.
If I learn this stuff, he can talk to me about it.
That’s what I want. Jack talking to me without holding threats over his head.
“Why don’t you race?” I ask.
He chuckles. “It’s expensive. I was saving for just the body of a car, a pro-mod, but the cash I saved for years was stolen in the robbery.”
“Oh my goodness! That’s so sad.”
He shrugs and stares longingly at the car. “It was dumb to hope for it. I should buy a reliable car since the sedan is about to die. Or a van for the center. Then we could take the crew on field trips more often.”
I squeeze his arm, which makes him flinch.
“Jack, you’re such a good man. How you love and care for those special people is admirable. You don’t deserve having to scrape by all the time.”
He laughs mockingly. “Says the rich Bible bitch who has butlers.”
The words hit like a slap to my face. This is what my dad warned me about. He doesn’t respond to kindness with kindness. He puts up walls.
He can be mean, but it’s not my style to return cruelty. So I ignore the remark.
“I think things will get better for you. God has a plan.”
He sighs. I suppose I just annoyed him with my ‘religious talk.’ I don’t care. He needs God.
A beautiful woman with honey-blond hair swoops in.
“Haven’t seen you here forever!” she gushes, then hugs and kisses his cheek before stepping back.
My face burns as jealousy claws to the surface. He didn’t hug me. She is tall. Very thin. Maybe that’s his type.
“Hey Claire. I’m not back. Just a rare night out.”
“Well then, let’s have some fun!”
She leans on him and shoves a flask in his hand, which he takes a swig of.
I frown. Why can’t I be like that? Jack would probably push me off.
Ugh. I’m chasing a guy who clearly doesn’t like me. He tolerates me. It’s not easy like it is for this Claire-girl.
I grimace, realizing how much work I put in just to getting Jack here, with me, and another girl got his attention effortlessly.
My shoulders slump as my excitement is zapped away. Even though I am curious what the world is like outside church walls, I should leave.
I slip away and find Ingrid, who talks to people, laughing.
As soon as I join their circle, a man hands me a beer.
“No, thank you. I don’t drink alcohol.”
“Only wine,” says Jack, who appears behind me. “Cause it’s Jesus’ blood, so that’s okay. Churches don’t exist without hypocrisy.”
I whirl around and give him stunned eyes. I whisper-panic, “Shh, nobody can know who I am.”
He rolls his eyes. “Trust me, nobody here knows your name.” Then lower. “Don’t disappear again. Not wearing that slutty outfit.”
My skin burns hot, and I scoff. “Why do you care? You were busy with that girl.” I fold my arms and leer.
The glint in his eyes is telling.
He isn’t happy, either.