38. God Himself

38

God Himself

Violet

"Are you going home tonight?" I'm already nervous not knowing how this day's going to pan out, and the last person I should seek comfort in is Kole, but I can't help it.

He's the balance in my center, even if on his own, he's the wild card.

"Eventually. We have an initiation ceremony tonight." Kole brushes my hair off my face. "But I can wait until you fall asleep."

Kole is standing two steps down on the church steps so I can look him in the eyes. I'm still a little surprised he's here, given he's averse to religion. But clearly, he'll go anywhere so long as I'm there. Even holy church grounds.

The town of Bristal is holding a service for the community to send prayers to the Westwood family, and they're making a show of it.

Students, professors, community members.

The entirety of Sigma Sin.

Everyone who is anyone is here, pretending they give a shit.

It's more a sympathy campaign than a memorial, as demonstrated by Liam's father shaking hands with everyone who arrives like they're being welcomed to a political benefit.

He might as well be posing for a poster or starring in a commercial with how phony and forced his devastation is. The opposite of Liam's mother, whose eyes are red with the tears that are still falling.

Watching Oliver Westwood reminds me of what my mom said about my father.

She rarely spoke of him, but the one time I asked, she said I was better off never knowing him. That men in positions of power only care about one thing: themselves. That he'd destroy me or use me if it was in his best interest, and he wasn't worth searching for.

Oliver buries a grin at whatever the mayor whispers to him, and I get it now.

If my father is anything like Oliver, I don't need him in my life.

My mom and I might not have had money or an apartment with windows that sealed out the chill of cold winter nights, but we had each other. And if there's one thing I've learned from spending time with Kole, it's that love is a life-altering resource. It can be a watering can as much as it can be a weapon.

One that can bloom or one that can destroy.

Like sunlight. And he was a plant trying to break free from the soil without it.

My life was warm, while his was cold and impossible. Each time his fingers found the surface of the dirt, he was met with night, and I'm only now realizing what that does to a person.

His father abused him. His stepfather tortured him. Love wasn't security; it was a threat. It was a weakness. He's not that different from Liam. From all the men who are born and raised to be Sigma Sin.

My gaze moves from Oliver Westwood to Kole, and the intensity of his attention makes my stomach flutter.

He barely blinks as he looks into my eyes. His expression is cool and calm, but beneath the hard exterior, I sense something weighing on him. Ever since the night we had dinner with his parents, he's been more distant.

I didn't think that was possible, given he's generally a fortress, but the cold disconnect these past couple weeks has been even more challenging to get past than his usual defense mechanisms.

Fight or flight.

Do or die.

I'm scared I'm going to lose him when I've finally found someone who opens me up. Who makes me feel it all.

"What's on your mind, kitten? "

I glance back at Oliver Westwood, and his eyes meet mine briefly. I wonder if he knows who I am—who I was to Liam.

"Nothing." I shake my head, turning back to Kole.

I doubt he believes me, but he nods, pulling me to the church. "Come on."

We barely make it inside the door when he leads me to the pew farthest from the front. He positions me all the way against the far wall, with him between me and everyone else. The church is filling with people, and it makes my skin itch when I know the truth behind what brings us all here.

A girl three rows ahead of us is crying, and I wonder if she's really that sad over Liam.

I was his girlfriend. Is that what I should be doing?

Pretending he wasn't a cheating asshole who wanted to rape me in the forest to get revenge on his enemies.

The things I rationalize and the things I excuse contradict each other as I look up into Kole's eyes. He's no better, even if I'm the one asking him for it.

"Want to go?"

"No."

I can't.

If I don't at least make an appearance, people will talk more than they already are.

"Do you?"

Kole wraps his arm around my shoulder. "I'm not leaving you."

Looking around, I watch everyone take their seats. Oliver Westwood makes his way in with the priest and the mayor. They're standing at the front, and I wonder if anyone else sees behind the veil of this charade of politics and religion.

My gaze moves to Jesus hanging on the cross behind the priest, and my stomach turns at the judgment these walls press upon me.

"What do you think happens when you die?" I ask Kole.

He hums, looking from me to the cross at the front of the church. "I think the earth takes you back to where you came from."

"So no heaven? No hell?"

Kole glances down at me, his gaze roaming over my face. "No."

"You don't believe in God then?"

"Do you?" He tosses the question back to me.

Do I?

Faith used to feel more present and less like an imaginary friend. More tangible, and less like tossing a coin in a fountain and making a wish. Somewhere along the line, it stopped being belief and started being selfish. Something I only relied on when I needed to think there was something else out there that cared—that would help me out.

It's hard to grasp feeling powerless. Faith used to be comforting. Now, it's what keeps me up at night.

The unknown.

The emptiness.

The void.

"I did when I was younger." My fingers knit together in my lap. "But when my heart stopped beating, I didn't see anything but darkness. So now, I don't know what I believe in. I'd just like to think there's something bigger than all of this. Peace at the end, at least."

"Even if they don't deserve it?"

"Do any of us?"

He watches me, not answering my question, tracing the line of my jaw with his fingers before tipping my chin up.

"You don't need God, Violet."

"Why not?"

"Because no one is allowed to judge you."

"Is that why you do what you do?" My eyebrows pinch. "You have no fear of moral consequences?"

"Maybe. Or, maybe I just don't care as you like to remind me."

Kole turns his body toward me, slipping a hand between my thighs. I'm wearing jeans, but it doesn't stop him from grabbing me between the legs so hard my pussy throbs.

I look around, but no one is watching. And with where we're seated and how his body is positioned, they can't see what he's doing.

"Is that why you're thinking about this at your dead boyfriend's memorial?" Kole rubs my pussy again, and I'm gripping his wrist, trying to bite back a moan. "How I'm the one who painted the road in his blood. Do you want to save my soul?"

Kole drags his nose along my cheek, breathing me in, moving to my ear and licking the shell of it .

"Do you want to pray for me, Violet?" he whispers in my ear. "Do you want to get on your knees and beg the Lord's forgiveness for my sins? Or are you worried he'll condemn you for your own?"

Kole slips his hand fully between my legs, until the heel of it is on my pussy, and his fingers press against my ass.

I blink a tear from my eyes as the service begins. As everyone else bows their heads and the priest leads the prayer. But I tip my head back against Saint's shoulder and let out a blasphemous sigh for him.

I don't know what will happen to our souls; I just want them to stay together.

"I'm scared, Kole."

"Of judgment?"

I shake my head. "Of losing you if they learn the truth."

It's honest. Raw.

I'm scared of what Kole has woken up inside me, but worse, I'm scared of never feeling it again if he's gone. Even if he taints my soul, I'm prepared to suffer every lick of the flames of hell if I can burn beside him.

"Don't worry, kitten. There's nothing to be afraid of. I'm not going anywhere. I'll protect you. Even from God himself."