I heard Lilah’s nervous gasp.
But I fucking ignored it.
*****
“Ready?” I asked as Lilah’s arms wrapped around my waist.
She nodded into my back and her grip tightened on my cut. “Yes.”
Heeling up the kickstand, the engine of my Harley roared and we rolled down the dirt road and out onto the country road that went past the compound. Lilah’s hands were iron as they held on to my waist, but I couldn’t take the fucking shit-eating grin off my face. I had my old lady on my bike, wind slapping my face, freedom of the road, and two wheels burning up asphalt.
This was the life I now wanted, and I’d never been so fucking happy.
The sound of a giggle blew into my ear. Looking back at Lilah through my wing mirror, I saw her stunning face smiling. Head thrown back, she was laughing out loud.
She was loving it.
She too was tasting freedom.
We drove for hours, until we found ourselves at McKinney Falls State Park. The Hangmen came here all the time. Lilah immediately fell in love with it.
Pulling to a stop beside the water, I twisted around on the seat and Lilah draped her legs over my thighs. Gripping her ass, I pulled her closer. Lilah smiled so big as she wrapped her arms around my neck.
“You like riding, baby?” I asked.
“Yes. Very much so,” Lilah replied, then, pressing her forehead to mine, said, “The best part was holding on to you, sharing something you love.”
“Get those fuckin’ lips on mine, baby,” I demanded, and Lilah moved in, crushing her lips to mine.I broke from her mouth, kissing along her delicate jawline, then down to her slim neck. Vanilla. All vanilla.
“Ky,” she whispered, and I pulled back before I ended up fucking her on this bike. Lilah’s head fell on my chest and she stared out over the water, sighing.
I felt her mood change, so gripping her harder, I asked, “You good?”
Lilah remained silent for a couple’a minutes before she asked, “Do you believe in God?”
That question knocked me back on my ass. I frowned, wondering where the hell she was going with this. “Don’t know, baby,” I answered honestly. “But I do think religion’s fucked up. People killing for a God that could be as real as fucking Santa Claus. Folks judging others ‘cause they don’t believe the same thing, and cunts like Prophet David and Cain using it to get power, control over people.” I sighed, trying to not lose it. “But God, no fucking idea.”
“I do,” she whispered. “Despite it all, I still believe there is a God that loves his people.”
I didn’t know what to say, but I did feel a huge surge of fear run through me. I’d just got my woman back, my woman who’d been destroyed by that pedo cult. I thought we were moving on, starting to live our life, but her still believing? It caused me to feel real fucking fear, damn quaking in my boots fear. Weren’t no woman gonna want this life when she’s tight with God, I thought.
“Mae and I talked when I was in the hospital. She told me how Prophet David changed the Bible to make us believe in his message. She told me how he lied. Told me how he used his power to do bad things to children… to me,” she said quietly. I found myself gripping her harder, like I could somehow protect her from the past. Lilah nuzzled my chest and sighed happily. “But she also gave me a Bible, a real Bible, and its revelations astounded me.
“It was full of forgiveness, good intention, and parables preaching peace and love to mankind. I fell in love with those words… I fell in love with their message. It renewed me, filled me with hope, and bestowed upon me grace.”
A lump blocked my throat as I listened to Li. What she was saying didn’t fit in with the Hangmen, didn’t fit with her and me.
Feeling a wetness on my chest, I nudged Lilah up with my shoulder and saw her face filled with tears.
“Baby…” I hushed out, wiping at her cheeks. She shook her head and, gripping my hands, pressed kiss after kiss on my wrist.
“I do not want you to think I am not happy or that I do not love you. Because I do, more than I can explain. Psalms are poems; you are mine. You are the embodiment of every divine word that could slip from my lips. I adore you, Ky. I can no longer imagine my life without you in it. You are my white dove. You fill me with peace love, and devotion.”
My chest ached, and I ran my thumb down her scarred cheek. “Baby…”
Lilah lifted her dress, her leathers perfectly framing her legs, and she showed me her flat stomach, tracing one of her cult-awarded permanent torture scars. “This cross was branded on my stomach by vile and hurtful men, but I also have this symbol on my heart, metaphorically of course, branded as a child by the Lord I hold most dear, by Christ whom I love and have loved unconditionally.”