5. Chapter 5
Harley
“What are you doing here, Craig?” My heart rapid-fired as I forced myself to maintain eye contact with my ex-boyfriend rather than bolting out of the kitchen. I hated the fear his mere presence evoked in me.
“I’m here to talk.” He lorded it over that chair as if it were his.
My chair. Sure, maybe there had been a time when he was welcome here, coming and going as he pleased.
But that time was over. How had he even gotten inside my apartment?
He’d given me the key back after we broke up. Had he made a copy?
I shuddered. I wouldn’t put it past him. “I have nothing to say. Get out of my apartment.”
A slow smile built on his clean-shaven face. The sunlight filtering through the small window behind him reflected on his bald head, his Hawaiian shirt crisp and tucked into his jeans. “What’s with the hostility, Ley?”
I clenched my fists, resisting the urge to pull the Ruger LCRx from the back of my jeans. Threatening a detective with a gun would most definitely not end well for me. Not to mention I didn’t want to drag Brother Samuel into my mess.
“I think she made it pretty clear that she wants you to leave.” Brother Samuel’s tone was friendly but determined. His presence behind me boosted my courage.
For the first time since Brother Samuel had entered the kitchen, Craig looked at him. Sized him up—the habit and sandals—then scoffed. “Who are you?”
“Brother Samuel.”
I wanted to tell him to stay out of it for his own sake, but fear glued my bare feet to the cold tile floor.
Craig pushed the chair back—
Brother Samuel cut in front of me so quickly my brain needed a moment to catch up. He stood with his back to me, his broad shoulders squared—like a human shield.
“Listen, Brother Samuel,” Craig drawled. “My girlfriend and I need to have a chat. Without you.”
“No.” Brother Samuel’s voice was deeper and more stern than I’d ever heard it before.
Though he was tall, Craig towered over him with his six-four frame.
That didn’t seem to impress Brother Samuel much, because he didn’t show the slightest hint of fear.
“The only thing that’s going to happen is you leaving. ”
Craig chuckled. “I think you’re forgetting the roles here.” His statement held a hint of surprise, and frankly, I was just as taken aback by Brother Samuel’s guts.
“No, he’s right.” I stepped aside, so I could look my ex in the eye. “I want you to leave and never come back. I’m not your girlfriend anymore. You’re the one who broke up six months ago, in case you forgot.”
Craig’s pale blue eyes slowly came to me. Then he smiled like I’d wished him a happy birthday. “Your wish is my command.” One hand planted on his holstered gun, he moved toward us.
Brother Samuel shoved me behind him, wedging me between his powerful body and the electric stove. Since my kitchen was extremely narrow, the two men nearly touched noses when Craig moved past him. Brother Samuel followed him all the way to the door, maintaining that shield between me and my ex.
When Craig was gone and the door locked, I sank onto the sofa and buried my face in my trembling hands.
I had never considered him dangerous. Not once had he raised his voice during our one-year-long relationship, and he had most definitely never abused me physically or manhandled me.
But last night, and now this, changed everything.
The cushion dipped when Brother Samuel took a seat without saying a word. He didn’t need to. His presence alone was comforting. Why was this man so protective of me? It wasn’t like he owed me anything.
“I’m sorry about all this. And thanks for stepping in.” I pulled my hands from my face to look at him. The distance between us made me smile inwardly. He was a very respectful guy. I almost wished he wasn’t. That he would reach out to console me.
He’s a monk, you genius. Of course he won’t touch you.
“Are you all right?” His green eyes wandered my face from beneath low-drawn brows. A mix of concern and a load of questions were etched into his handsome features.
“Yeah. Let me get my things so we can head back to the monastery. I promise he won’t bother us there.” I rose, my gaze landing on the pile of glossy magazines on my coffee table. A very shirtless and very ripped guy was on the top cover.
Ugh, how embarrassing. It wasn’t even mine.
Bella had left it here after showing me that guy she couldn’t stop swooning over—Keaton Grady.
She’d been pretty bummed when she found out that he'd married Layne Rhyner, a former Swiss professional climber. But I agreed with her—he was otherworldly attractive. When I’d moved to this island three years ago, I’d learned quickly that the Gradys were a big deal.
They owned a multi-billion dollar whiskey company.
Lincoln Grady was one of the most requested spirits at the club I worked at.
I looked at Keaton’s face. Black hair, electric blue eyes, a strong jaw. Something about his features reminded me of . . . I glanced at Brother Samuel.
Wait, wait, wait.
“He’s my brother.” Brother Samuel gave me a smile I couldn’t decipher. Definitely not a thrilled one.
But wow, that made a lot of sense. “You’re a Grady,” I stated the obvious. Bella would lose it if she knew Keaton’s brother had been in my apartment.
Maybe it was my imagination, but I was pretty sure Brother Samuel winced. “Yes.”
Bet he hides a similar body like that under his habit.
I groaned inwardly. Stop it, Harley. Stupid, rogue thoughts. “Does this mean you left millions behind to become a monk?”
“I don’t care much for worldly belongings.”
“Guess you don’t. Why did you become a monk?”
He ran a hand over his mouth and bearded jaw. “How about I tell you all about that on the way back?”
“Deal. I’ll go pack.” And do it quickly, because I couldn’t wait to find out more about him. Something about this man piqued my curiosity. No, he downright intrigued me. He’d better be ready for my flood of questions.
Ten minutes later, we sat in the F-150, Brother Samuel behind the wheel and I in the passenger seat. I had changed into an olive maxi skirt, a white blouse with puff sleeves, and comfy leather sandals. I loved this combo, not to mention it fit the monastery’s rules.
“Do you mind if we go into Glam City real quick?” I asked, scanning every car in sight for Craig. “I need to talk to my boss.”
Brother Samuel glanced at the sky as if the answer was written there.
“It’s only a ten-minute drive,” I added.
His gaze came to me. “Uh, sure.” The way his large hands briefly curled around the leather steering wheel told me he wasn’t comfortable with the idea, but he was already signaling to merge onto the highway leading in that direction.
He checked the mirrors, then looked over his shoulder before changing lanes—almost like a student driver taking the driver’s test. Something told me he executed everything he did with this kind of carefulness.
“So, tell me more about why you became a monk.”
He sniffed. “I was born to privilege. Brought a lot of drama with it, fake people, priorities that held no values. Didn’t want to be like that.”
Ahead, the skyscrapers of Glam City towered into the blue morning sky.
A lot of these buildings were businesses and apartments or hotels, but some were also clubs that only closed for a couple of hours for cleaning, only to open again so the locals and tourists could party on.
Some said Glam City was like Las Vegas, others said it was worse.
I brushed a rogue strand out of my face. “That makes sense. But why a monastery?”
“I was always intrigued by their way of living. When I was in high school, I wrote a report on monks and interviewed Father Cruz. He showed me around Saint James Monastery. I was hooked.”
“Their simple lifestyle intrigued you?”
“Yeah. And their devotion to God.” He threw a quick glance my way, then focused back on the road.
“That’s something I admire, too. Giving everything up for God seems nearly impossible in my opinion.
No matter how hard I try, I always find myself wandering.
It’s like the secular world has its claws deeply buried in me.
” I sighed. “You know, like what Paul wrote in Romans. I have the desire to do good, but do evil instead.”
“It certainly isn’t easy. Especially when you live and work in the secular world. We’re more shielded at the monastery.”
“I bet that doesn’t keep you from stumbling sometimes.”
His jaw tightened. “It doesn’t. We, too, fight against our flesh.”
Now I wanted to know what he struggled with, but that was too intimate a question. We hardly knew each other.
Funny how it felt like I’d known him a lifetime.
“How does this whole monk thing work?” I asked. “Can you just quit when you’ve had enough?”
“Depends. Before taking the Solemn Vows, yes. After, no. They are absolute and irrevocable.”
“What are the Solemn Vows? Sorry for all my questions, but I have no idea about the monastic way of life.” Yet it intrigued me. I loved to learn about different cultures and lifestyles.
Brother Samuel performed another mirrors-and-over-the-shoulder check before changing lanes.
“They consist of three vows: obedience, stability, and conversatio morum. Obedience means we do God’s will like Christ did.
We also obey the abbot and all of our brethren for the love of Christ. The vow of stability is a promise to remain in the same community for the rest of our lives. ”
Whoa, the mere thought of being caged in the same place till death sent a shot of panic through me. I needed constant change. Maybe because I’d grown up traveling the mainland, waking up in another place every other week.
“Conversatio morum is difficult to translate but means something like ‘fidelity to monastic life.’ It’s a commitment to celibate chastity, poverty, and communal simplicity of life.”