6. Seven Deadly Sins Checklist
CHAPTER SIX
SEVEN DEADLY SINS CHECKLIST
AURORA
I ’d started my day in a hotel room beside a man I’d spent six years with.
I was ending it in the house of a stranger.
In the bed of a stranger.
And that wasn’t even the craziest part.
When I’d taken off into the woods, it was about getting away from Ryan. At least, that was what I thought my brain had been telling me. It wasn’t until Deke found me that I realized it hadn’t been demanding I run from Ryan.
Okay, not only that.
It’d directed me to Deke.
Before he’d startled me with his jacket, I’d been pulled into a vision of a large hand cupping my chin inside a rustic cabin I’d never seen—not until Deke brought me to his cabin. I knew it was a good touch and not him angrily gripping my chin like Ryan did because of the look on my face. I had no clue what the expression was, but the smile was small and happy and hopeful.
I never smiled like that.
That was all I got from my curse, and then it was silence. Actual silence.
And that was the craziest part.
I used to beg, plead, and pray for the chaos in my head to stop—especially once the incessant stream of run commands had begun to drive me insane—but I couldn’t remember the last time my thoughts were truly quiet. I wasn’t sure they’d ever been. If my brain was a TV, it was constantly flicking stations. There were always snippets of random words or microsecond visions or nonsense I didn’t understand.
It was just my luck that it would finally stop right when I needed guidance and reassurance the most.
Because even though something had steered me to Deke, that didn’t mean I should let my guard down and blindly follow along. I’d put my trust in Ryan for six whole years. My curse had never warned me that he’d one day hit me or try to hand me over to a scary-looking man.
And Deke was bigger and scarier looking than Ryan and that mystery man combined. I’d never seen anyone who looked like him. Ever . No model or spandex-clad superhero in a movie came close. He had to be over six and a half feet of solid muscle, with a thick beard, unruly brown hair, and eyes so dark, they were nearly black—though not actually black like my freak eye. It made him insanely attractive but also insanely intimidating. If I slipped up and said something that weirded him out, he could do a lot more damage than Ryan’s backhand or fist.
Not that it seemed like Deke would hurt me. Other than a couple of times when his already rumbling voice became gruffer—and even then, it sounded more like concern rather than anger—he’d been surprisingly kind and generous. He’d shown far more patience with my inability to talk than I’d shown myself. It was like he routinely took care of random crazy women he found in the woods.
A thought that made my stomach churn and my chest ache for some reason.
But if my curse was right about something happening, it was something big. Bigger than me and my sinner pride. A vision wasn’t going to chime in to tell me what, so I would have to find my voice with Deke.
Even if that meant he would learn I was a freak.
Would it be so wrong to wait a few days? Just long enough to be sure he won’t call an insane asylum. Or worse…
An exorcist.
It’s not that I’m a coward. I’m being smart for once.
With that decision made, I should’ve considered a million other things. Planned for a million other things. He’d offered to let me stay for the night, but what would happen in the morning? How would I explain if he pushed to know why I was there? What would I say if he asked why I didn’t talk?
But the longer I lay there, the more I thought about Deke. And the more I thought about Deke, the more I felt…
Period.
The more I felt my body heat until I had to remove the hoodie.
The more I felt my heart race until I wondered if I was having a heart attack.
The more I felt that restless energy zip through my body, but not like I needed to run away.
I’d never experienced anything like it. Tension and fire and agitation that was somehow good. It grew stronger with each ticking second. The pull in my chest returned, like my heart was clawing at my chest. It ached.
I ached.
With a mind of its own, my hand moved from the bed to my stomach before sliding past the waistband of the sweatpants I wore.
Deke’s sweatpants.
Him.
Something about that built the unfamiliar tightness that coiled in my lower stomach until I thought I would die.
Sex had never been a big thing for me. Or any kind of thing, really. It’d been years since I’d had it, and even back then, it was… whatever. An act of service to Ryan. A duty to be fulfilled.
Yet as my fingers tentatively touched, slickness already coated my oversensitive core as images flashed through my head. Not from a vision, just from my own imagination. Deke’s smile. The way he looked at me. The tattoos that covered his hand and crept under his sleeve, making me wonder where the ink led. His large body. Said body on me in the woods.
A light sheen of sweat coated my scorched skin, and my thoughts grew choppier. My muscles squeezed around my bones. My breath caught.
And then it was gone as a rush of cold water hit my flushed body.
I bolted up, sure a pipe had burst or the roof had leaked, but there was nothing. I was dry.
Most of me, at least.
The icy blast had been in my head, and the return to reality I clearly desperately needed.
What the heck am I doing?
I let out a frustrated groan and rolled over in the giant bed. The plush mattress was insanely comfortable on its own, but the added masculine smell of the bedding and the crackling fire made it that much more calming. Too bad it was wasted on me.
If I can barely sleep with a strong dose of meds, there’s no way I’m sleeping without them.
I slept.
Not only that, I slept well .
Usually, the sleeping pills made my body tense and my thoughts jittery until I crashed in an unpleasant half sleep. And that was considered a good night. Without them, there was no sleep at all. I stayed awake.
But in the big bed, I slept so soundly that I dreamed. It rarely happened unless it was a vision, so the random one about witches and a hospital and a lot of cotton candy was weird.
It was also normal .
If it weren’t for my insistent bladder and rumbling stomach, I would’ve been tempted to stay put and enjoy that normalcy a little longer. But I also didn’t want to be rude by lazing around all day.
Between how much I’d eaten and my thoughts about Deke, I was already guilty of gluttony, pride, and lust. There was no reason to add sloth to my deadly sins.
Forcing myself from the warm bed, I almost peeked over the half wall that overlooked the living room to see if Deke was still asleep. But with my luck, he’d look up right as I did and think I was watching him like a weirdo. Which, honestly, wasn’t far off because I did want to watch him. I fought that urge, too, and stayed quiet as I went to the bathroom.
The one downstairs had been small, with just a toilet, sink, and walk-in shower. The en suite, however, was almost as big as his bedroom itself. There was another walk-in shower, but there was also a bathtub the size of a small pool. A large window was positioned next to it so someone could relax and look out into nature for hours.
As I washed my hands, I glanced in the mirror and cringed. And not just because my hair was a mess—though that was true, too. And I’d always been a fast healer, but the bruises on my face were still ugly splotches.
Telling Deke the damage was from my disastrous nighttime hike wasn’t technically a lie. Even I don’t know how much is from my falls and how much is from Ryan’s blows.
The redness in my eyes didn’t help my appearance. Sleeping in my contacts made it look like I had pulled my typical an all-nighter.
I did okay without my meds, but how long can I last without a change of contacts and some solution?
Removing the lenses, I rinsed them carefully under the water before putting them back in. It wasn’t a good long-term plan, but it would have to do.
Once I was cleaned up as best as I could, I pulled back on Deke’s hoodie and headed to the stairs. Nerves settled in my belly at the thought of seeing him again. Not the unsettled kind where I wondered what kind of mood I would find him in. It was a giddy excitement.
My soft steps were for nothing because when I turned toward the kitchen, Deke was already sitting at the table with a mug in his hand and his eyes aimed at me.
His smile, too.
It wasn’t forced or polite—I’d seen enough of those to recognize them from anyone. His was real, like he was genuinely happy to see me.
My steps threatened to falter as my heart lurched in my chest, but I kept going.
Right up until he said, “Perfect timing. Frittata is almost done.”
My muscles tightened, and my fists balled as a wave of rage twisted around me so strong that it froze me in place for a moment. I inhaled deeply and forced my body to relax.
That was weird.
Frittatas were Ryan’s favorite breakfast. When Deke mentioned them the day before, the reminder of him had caused a surge of fear. That time, it was anger like I’d never felt before.
It might not have been saying much since I rarely got angry, but that was exactly why it shook me.
A surprising amount of guilt and confusion mixed with the other whirling intense emotions.
Not even a day away from him, and I’m adding wrath to my long list of sins.
I thought I hid my feelings well, but Deke’s smile instantly dropped away.
And I instantly wanted it back.
Actually, I wanted to kick myself for ruining the moment. For letting thoughts of Ryan ruin the moment.
“You okay?” he asked, his concerned gaze scanning me.
I wasn’t, but I nodded anyway.
He lifted his mug. “Coffee?”
I nodded again and started for the coffeemaker on the counter, but he somehow beat me there.
For a massive man, he’s surprisingly speedy.
Filling a mug, he passed it to me before opening a drawer. There was a mess of sugar packets, powdered creamer, and stirrers, along with plastic utensils, paper napkins, and every type of condiment package imaginable.
It looks like he’s been stealing from each restaurant table and coffee bar he passes.
I turned a questioning gaze his way.
“It’s easier to grab shit from work than to shop,” he said with a sheepish smile. It was an unexpected expression from a burly man who resembled a lumberjack—right down to the flannel shirt over his tee.
He’d mentioned his work the day before with the mess of notes on the pad, but I hadn’t gotten a good look before he’d flipped the page. I wanted to know more about it. For whatever reason, I wanted to know everything about him. It was yet another time I would’ve appreciated a vision, but since my curse was still giving me the silent treatment, I tried to convey my curiosity on my face.
Deke didn’t pick up on it as he moved around me to take the breakfast out of the oven. Even though it smelled amazing—especially since his version had the yolks and what appeared to be an obscene amount of cheese—my stomach churned at the thought of eating it. I felt ungrateful, but when he grabbed two plates, I put my hand on his arm to stop him.
“What’s up?” he asked.
I looked from him to the pan, then back and shook my head.
“Don’t like it?”
It wasn’t that I disliked it, per se. It wasn’t even the connection to Ryan. But I’d cooked and eaten it multiple times a week for years . I could happily go the rest of my life without ever seeing one again. It was rude and ungracious, but so was wasting food.
Since there was no way to mime all that, I settled for a thumbs down. I held up my coffee and hoped he understood that I was happy with that.
He got the message. He just didn’t like it. “Need more than coffee for breakfast.” Rather than telling me to get over it or being offended that I wouldn’t eat the food, he opened the fridge and pulled out a bundle wrapped in white paper. “Stuck with just cheese and a hot pepper blend in that since I knew you liked both, but I’ve also got bacon I can fry up.”
Spice was enough to briefly tempt me, but my aversion still said no. I nodded about the bacon, though.
He put a row of thick slices on a double burner griddle and added heavy presses on top. The moment they began to sizzle, Victoria ran into the kitchen. Her pretty pink bow was missing, and it seemed she’d spent the morning in the mud because her fur was no longer pristine white and tan. Her front paws tapped rapidly on the hardwood floor like she was dancing a jig.
“You heard the vet,” Deke said as he put four slices of crusty bread into a toaster. “No more people food for you.”
Victoria let out a pathetic whine and yipped.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s insulting him.
Her aim moved to me, and she must’ve recognized a sucker when she saw one. She tilted her head before starting her little dance again. It was followed up with happy tail wags when she sat.
And smiled .
I had no clue dogs could smile, but there she was.
“Don’t fall for her shit,” Deke warned me.
I nodded, even knowing that I would be sneaking her a piece.
At least a little one.
He nudged me to the side. “Sit.” When I hesitated, feeling like I should help in some way, he added, “There were just some rabbits out in the garden.”
I’d never been an animal person. Okay, I’d never been around animals to know if I was an animal person. Yet I found myself quickly abandoning my desire to be helpful in favor of seeing rabbits. I scanned out the window and didn’t spot any. What I saw was far from a disappointment, though.
What the…?
Deke had mentioned a garden, but it’d been too dark to see much the night before. In the light of day, I saw it wasn’t just the small, mostly dead plot I’d pictured—one that mirrored my own pathetic attempt in Georgia. His was an expansive spread as far as I could see. And despite the frigid temperatures, the plants all seemed to be lush, green, and thriving.
Most of the greenery at my house was the ground cover and neatly trimmed bushes that Ryan preferred. He’d allowed me to plant some veggies and flowers behind the house, but even with the weather, the landscaper’s help, and my tending, it didn’t look anywhere near as healthy as Deke’s.
I grabbed the pen and notepad, quickly jotting down my question just as he approached with the breakfast.
How is your garden still alive?
“Got a green thumb.” He set down a plate of bacon, two heavily buttered slices of toast, and three different types of jam in front of me before going back to grab his own loaded plate.
It was too much food for me, but I was more caught up on the fact that he’d served me first for both meals we’d shared together.
Meals he’d prepared.
That wasn’t the way the Gideons had ever done things. The one time Mrs. Gideon had tried to simply dish out her food before Pastor Gideon had begun eating his already prepared plate, she’d ended up locked away in her room with one of her migraines .
One that coincidentally lasted as long as a black eye took to heal.
Ryan had always said it was his job to provide and mine to serve and support. On the rare occasion we went out to eat, he never asked what I was in the mood for before ordering for me—that part was necessary since I didn’t speak to anyone else. At home, food was dished out onto a single plate, and it was up to him how much I got when he was done. If I’d done my job and had visions that helped with his sermons, I was left with enough. When I’d failed, though…
Physical hunger was supposed to drive my spiritual hunger for redemption in the prayer room.
Since it took the guesswork out—and even with an empty stomach in the prayer room, it was less painful than the Gideons’ system—I’d never thought twice about it.
Not until right then.
Deke set his plate down before moving to fill Victoria’s bowl. When he turned back, he scanned me and the table in front of me. “What’s wrong? What do you need?”
I smiled and shook my head before gesturing to his plate and him.
“Don’t wait for me. Especially when you’re so hungry. Eat.”
Something about the surety in his voice and the emphasis he put on the words caused a buzzing in the back of my head. It wasn’t a vision, but it was as close as I’d had since the one in the woods.
It also wasn’t the first time he’d said something similar.
And he’d been right.
I picked up the pen.
How do you know I’m hungry?
“Lucky guess,” he said as he sat. “Figured you worked up an appetite last night.”
He knows.
Oh my God, how does he know? Could he hear me?
Maybe noises carry over the loft.
My cheeks flushed—and not just from embarrassment.
“That had to be a helluva hike you took…” he continued before he moved his focus from his food to me.
Our eyes locked, and we both froze. I wasn’t even sure either of us breathed.
Him.
I didn’t know if that was my curse talking or my body, and right then, I didn’t care.
He released his fork, letting it drop to the plate with a clatter. I jolted as the sudden noise cut through the intensity. When I tried to drop my red face to stare at my breakfast like bacon was the most interesting thing in the world, Deke didn’t allow it.
His large hand gripped my chin and tilted my face back to him. His voice was a husky rumble. “Where’d your thoughts go right then, Aurora?”
Hearing my name in that tone was almost better than his expression.
Almost .
An involuntary whimper escaped me, somewhere between mortification and desperation.
Just as quick as it’d happened, Deke released his hold and sat back. His face was pleasantly neutral as he dug into his food like I’d imagined the whole thing.
I probably had.
Seriously…
What in the heck has gotten into me?
I couldn’t imagine stomaching anything past the swirling in my belly, but sitting in a lusty stupor of my own creation would’ve been awkward. I occupied my idle hands by cutting one of the slices of toast into three pieces. Then I slathered each jam option on a piece, taking care like the fate of the world depended on my thoroughness in the task. When each was completely coated, I forced myself to take a bite.
I expected it to be cardboard in my dry mouth, but even my unease couldn’t ruin the amazing flavor. I picked the jar back up and looked for a brand so I could stock up in the future.
Like, for all of eternity or so.
At least enough jars to make a fort with.
But the matte-black label only had the emblem of a shimmery golden horse.
Must be someplace local.
I took another bite of strawberry jam that tasted like it was made with only the juiciest, sweetest berries on the planet. Setting it down, I moved on and found the next spread was just as delicious. I wasn’t sure what mixed fruits had been used to make it, but they were heavenly. I grabbed the last piece and bit in. Sweet, savory, and fire burst across my tongue.
“Knew that’d be your favorite.” Deke jerked his chin toward the garden. “Raspberry habanero. Fresh made for work a few days ago.”
I was about to grab the pen to ask more when his phone beeped.
And beeped.
And beeped another hundred times—or so it seemed.
“Shit.” Eyes squeezed tight, he hung his head back. “Should know better than to mention work on my day off.”
Whatever was going on, it must’ve been catastrophic because his phone began to ring.
With a few muttered curses, he stormed across the room. “What?” he snapped with all the gruffness and none of the tenderness he used with me. He listened for a few seconds before saying, “I’ll be right there.”
And then he hung up on whoever and turned back to catch me just as I was sneaking Victoria a slice of bacon.
Oops.
His mouth tipped on one side before falling into a scowl again. “I’ve gotta go into work, and I’m not sure how long it’ll take. Once shit goes bad, it snowballs, and I’m there till after close. Want to come with?”
I did. A lot. And not just because I was curious about his job…
Plus, everything else about him.
But when I glanced down at myself, I was reminded that my only clothes were my torn and tattered dress and his oversized comfort wear.
You would only be in his way anyhow.
An embarrassing mute he’d have to field questions and garner pity about.
I grabbed the pen and started writing.
Is it okay if I stay here? I understand if you don’t feel comfortable. I can go?—
The ink was dragged across the paper when he stole it. “No, you can’t.”
Contrary to what I’d written, though, I clearly did not understand because panic and mortification tightened my body.
The former because I had no backup idea. No ID. No cash or cards. I had nothing but the clothes on my back.
And even those weren’t mine.
The latter was thanks to just how immediate and vehement his answer was. Logically, I knew it was weird to ask to be left alone in his home. Heck, it was weird that I was even there. He didn’t know about the force that’d guided me to him because normal people didn’t experience visions, voices, and forces. I was just some rando from the woods. That alone was sketchy. I could be a very bad cat burglar for all he knew.
But, ouch, his fierce rejection hurt.
What am I going to do?
This is why I should’ve spent the night planning and not…
Hoping I masked my emotions better than I was able to suppress them, I smiled and began to stand.
I knew I failed when a mirrored flash of panic went across Deke’s face.
“Shit, that’s not what I meant.” He crouched in front of me and halted my progress, forcing me to sit again. Even with me in a chair and him ducked low, he was taller than me. “You can’t go.” His eyes squeezed shut, and he ran a large hand down his face. “Not that you can’t… you’re not a hostage… but I don’t want…” With a heavy, frustrated sigh, he opened his eyes to meet mine. “It makes sense for you to stay here since I’m guessing your purse was with your stolen shit?”
It was easier to go with that instead of having to explain that I didn’t have a purse because I also wasn’t allowed to have any money or a phone to carry in said purse, so I nodded.
“You need to cancel your cards.”
Done and done.
Amazing how quick that was…
“I’ll leave my phone with you so you can deal with that today. Your bank should have an online chat you can use.” He hesitated before his tone turned stiff. “You’d rather go, I’ll cover your expenses.”
I put my hand on his arm and shook my head.
Misunderstanding, his eyes narrowed before he looked over my head toward the window. “You can’t just roam around with no money, phone, or clothes?—”
His words cut off abruptly when I moved my hands to his face so he’d look at me. His brows shot up until they practically reached his hairline before his lids drifted closed. Before his shoulders visibly relaxed.
Before he leaned into my touch.
I wonder if he’s lonely out here in the middle of nowhere, just him and his demanding dog. It would explain why he’s been so welcoming to a stranger.
Grudgingly, I released my hold to write.
No, I don’t want to go.
He looked like he might argue, so I told him the full truth.
I want to stay with you.
One second, Deke was in front of me. The next, he was across the room. He barely looked over his shoulder as he said, “Gonna shower and get ready. Eat that breakfast.”
And then he was gone.