MasukThe drive home was painfully quiet.Dad drove. Mum looked out the window. I sat at the back seat, staring at my lap and willing my hands to stop trembling.No one spoke until we reached home.Dad switched off the engine but he didn't get out. We didn't leave either. One of the many unspoken rules of this house.When he looked at me through the rearview mirror, I wanted to sink into the seat.“I don't want to see you around that man again.”The words landed heavily.I frowned. “Why?”“He isn't good company.”“You don't even know him.” I defended, my emotions working faster than logic.“And you do?” He demanded, his eyes darkening with the anger I had gotten so familiar with.I swallowed the words on my tongue.“I know enough, Grace.” He stated. “Stay away from him.”I know I should have stopped talking. I should have let the conversation die but something inside of me could not let this go without defending Zeke.Or trying to, at least.Which was funny because I didn't even know the ma
By the time I climbed into bed that evening, my eyes were swollen. Sleep refused to come.Instead… I found myself thinking of a certain dark-eyed man.I rolled onto my side.I wondered what he'd say if he saw me like this. If I smiled at him now, would he know it was fake?I rolled onto the other side of the bed, reaching for my phone on the bedside table.No.My hand froze midair. What was I doing?Why did I want to hear his voice by 10p.m. on a Tuesday? Hear his voice? Jeez, that was ridiculous. I picked the phone up anyway. I was simply reaching out to him as part of my follow-up duties. Even though the set day for that was on Wednesdays.Before I could lose my nerve, I dialed his number. It rang twice.“Hello, Zeke Cody on the line.” Zeke Cody… His voice was so much deeper over the phone.Say something, Grace.“Hi…” I paused, feeling awkward. “...it's Grace.”He responded immediately. “Church Grace?”Despite everything that had happened today, I smiled. “How many Graces do you
Grace “Your smile's fake.”I stared at my reflection for what had to be the hundredth time since Sunday.“You smile with your lips... not with your eyes.”I smiled.The girl in the mirror smiled back. I glanced at my eyes and I almost didn't recognize those cold orbs staring back at me.He was right.I hated that he was right.Who even says something like that to a complete stranger?That man was weird. I had no idea why I was still thinking about him.I'd heard rumors from the first day he showed up in church. Some said he had spent over a decade in prison. Some said he killed someone. Some said he was dangerous.All that talk was why I didn't approach him from the first Sunday. I thought I'd never see him again. Because what exactly would someone like him come to find in a church?Except of course, the rumors weren't true. He kept showing up.Zeke.Such a short name for someone who occupied so much space in my head.I tried smiling again, my lips stretching so wide they began to hu
The Ex-con And The Pastor's Daughter 1Ezekiel The pastor's daughter was beautiful… but she wasn't happy.I noticed that before I noticed her eyes.Before I noticed the white dress.Before I noticed that every unmarried man in the church had already stolen a glance at her before the service began.Happy people moved differently.They laughed without thinking, their shoulders rested. Their smiles were constantly on their faces before anyone asked for it, but hers was different.She smiled exactly the way people smile in front of cameras. Wide enough to convince everyone, never wide enough to reach her eyes.I knew that type of smile.I guess you can say being in prison for three years teaches one a lot. One of those things is how to recognize people who are surviving instead of living.The pastor's daughter was surviving.“...and the Lord said…” The pastor kept preaching.Everyone listened, or pretended to. I wasn't listening and I didn't bother to pretend.My eyes kept drifting back
7In my next life, I hope I get to choose the method by which I want my life to get fucked up.Maybe both my legs getting broken so I'm stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of my life.Or losing my hair to an unknown sickness and having to wear wigs for all the days of my miserable life.Anything else.Anything but seeing the look on my sister's face.She didn't scream at me but I honestly wished she did.Her eyes moved from Blake's face to mine, then to the sheets tangled around us, our clothes scattered across the floor, and finally back to me.Her silence felt like my death, like someone with superhuman strength pulling my limbs apart bit by bit.My lips parted, my eyes moistening. “Chloe, I…”She took one slow step backwards, the words dying on my tongue before they could see the light of day.She shook her head, the movement painstakingly slowly and without a single word, she turned around and walked out.The door clicked shut behind her, leaving us in a room that felt too small.F
The moment my lips left his, reality came back with vengeance.I stumbled backwards so fast my knees bumped into the couch.Silence.What the fuck did I just do?The rain hammered against the windows, thunder rolling somewhere above us, but none of it was louder than the thoughts crashing through my head.“What…” I breathed.I looked at Blake. He looked just as stunned.“I…” He began.“No.” The word escaped my lips harshly. “No. We are not doing this.”His mouth opened again. “Maya…”“No.” I repeated frantically, pointing a finger at him like he was the problem. “That never happened.”His brows pulled together. “It literally just happened.”“It happened to two completely different people.”He blinked. “What?”“I don't know.” I rubbed both hands over my face. “The storm has fried my brain.”A laugh almost escaped him.I shot him a warning glare. “Don't laugh. This is a serious matter.”He nodded immediately, although his lips still twitched.“You're my sister's boyfriend, forgotten alr







