I head down the aisle and look back. “Father?”
“Yes, my child.”
“Why do you think Eve took a bite of the apple?”
He gives me a small smile. “You’re asking about temptation.”
“I’m asking about sin.”
“I think she took a bite of the apple for the same reason you’re asking me these questions. Do you call it disobedience? Or do you call it a crisis of faith? I call it yearning for knowledge. God gave you that curiosity, child.”
It’s a different interpretation of the Adam and Eve story I’ve been shamed with my whole life—a brighter one. Because God gave me this curiosity. He gave me the apple.
“Thank you, Father.”
I turn to the back of the church, expecting West to be gone, half thinking he was some handsome fever dream my mind made up. He’s standing as still as a statue, head bowed as if in prayer. I approach him quietly, not wanting to interfere.
He smiles gently. “Ready?”
“Completely.”
I’m ready for knowledge, for sin. Two sides of the same coin. I want to know him in every way possible, including carnal intimacy. When this is over, I’m going to tell Luca how I feel. I’m going to ask him to stay with us, wherever we end up going. Because I’m curious about what we can become together. And I’m strong enough to find out.
Except as we pass the rows of candles, some lit and some not, the candle for St. Francis isn’t burning anymore. A coincidence in a drafty old church?
Or was it snuffed out by someone watching me?
Chapter Nineteen
“The fight’s about to start.” Allie yells to be heard over the roar of the crowd. The fight hasn’t started yet, but half the people here seem drunk. They’re screaming at each other, at the empty cage in the middle of the warehouse.
West and the man guarding Allie push through the crowd, making barely enough room for us to squeeze through. Our seats are near the front, which is a relief. I’m only steps away from the emergency exit. If I were in the center of the stands, I’m not sure I could breathe.
Of course this means I have a close-up view of the ring.
The warehouse has been transformed from a crude gym into some kind of party. The lights are dim, with colorful spotlights flashing over the crowd. Smoke fills the air. I can’t see Luca anywhere, but he’s probably off somewhere with Colin.
A man in a black-and-white checkered shirt strolls the perimeter of the ring. A ref?
I lean close to Allie. “I thought these fights weren’t legal.”
Her gaze follows mine. “They still have rules. Even the hard-core fighters don’t want anyone dying. That would make the authorities come around.”
My eyes widen. “Dying?”
She presses her lips together, looking sheepish. “Sorry. Luca’s definitely not going to die.”
That kind of reassurance really has the opposite effect. “Do people die in these fights?”
Every second she takes feels like an eternity. “It’s happened before. I mean, sometimes people have weak health. Or it’s a freak accident. It can be dangerous, but in a fight like this, with so much scrutiny, they’re taking every precaution.”
I swallow hard. “What kind of precautions?”
“Searching for weapons.”
My eyes widen. “People bring guns into the fight?”
“No, of course not,” she says, but my relief is short-lived. “I mean knives. Or brass knuckles. That kind of thing. But it’s definitely not allowed. Don’t worry.”