The Church (The Cloister Trilogy 3)

He looks both ways. “If I get busted—”

“Don’t be a ninny.”

He laughs in the quiet corridor and picks up speed toward the elevators. After we get in and the doors close, he says softly, “You remind me of her sometimes, you know? She was brave like you.”

“Georgia was a lot braver. The first kid in our neighborhood to use the diving board at Sissy Lee’s house, the only girl who would play tackle football with the boys—she wasn’t afraid of anything.”

“She was still like that. The whole time she was with me. I wish…” His voice fades, and the elevator dings on the second floor.

“I know. I wish a lot, too.”

He pushes me into the hallway. This floor is busier, and a few of the nurses raise a brow as he wheels me past, but they don’t interfere.

The rooms are different, glass walls and more beeping machines. “Is this intensive care?”

“Yeah, post-op something or other. I’m pretty sure we aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Play it cool.”

“I’m trying.”

“Hey, what did Zion want?” I fell asleep before I could grill Noah.

“Nothing good. He thinks that Heavenly needs someone to transition. There are too many members who could be a danger. He wants to set something up so that I—”

“Am the new Prophet?” My skin goes cold.

“God, no. Just a preacher. Someone the people are familiar with. I’m supposed to defuse the whole situation, fill the power vacuum to prevent anyone else from trying to take my father’s place and get things going again.”

“What do you get in return?”

“Freedom. For me and Adam. And for the women.”

I don’t trust any deal offered by Zion, but if it keeps Adam and Noah out of prison, maybe it could work. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to think about it. He wants me to preach this coming Sunday. I don’t know if I can.”

“We’ll talk about it. Once Adam is better.”

“Yeah.” He wheels me slowly toward the end of the hall, then stops in front of one of the rooms. “Hang on. Let me make sure he’s decent.”

That gets a real laugh out of me.

He disappears into the room with even more beeping machines than the others. “Emily is here to… what does that motion even mean… okay, I know what that motion means, and it’s uncalled for, man. I’m bringing her. Hang on.”

The sound of a chair scraping along the floor grates across my impatient nerves. Adam is only feet away. I need to see him, feel him, assure myself that he’s going to be all right.

Noah finally emerges from the room and wheels me in head first. I roll over onto my side as Adam comes into view.

His face is swollen and white gauze is packed around the right side of his throat. He attempts a smile but it dies quickly.

“He can’t talk yet.” Noah scoots my bed until it clangs against Adam’s.

He reaches for me. I leverage myself over despite the pain in my back and hand.

“Hang on. Give me a minute, you two!” Noah moves around behind me and lifts me until I’m right beside Adam.

I put my hand to his stubbled cheek and brush my lips across his. “I love you.”

He grips my waist, love showing in his eyes as he stares at me as if there’s nothing else in the world.

“I guess, um. I’ll just… Yeah, I’m gone.” Noah leaves and pulls the flimsy curtain to hide us from the rest of the ward.

“You’re going to be okay.” I kiss the tip of his nose.

He gently grabs my wrist and squeezes, then glances down my body and arches an eyebrow.

“I’m going to be fine. Don’t worry. The hand will heal, and so will my back.” I drop my gaze. “But I’ll have scars.”

He tilts my chin up until our eyes lock, then smiles a little and shakes his head.

“Oh, you don’t care?”

He shakes his head again, then holds out his bandaged hands and wrinkles his nose.

“I guess you’re scarred too, huh?”

He nods.

“And at least I have all my toes, right?”

He makes a low growly noise and pulls me tight to him, his hand easing beneath the hospital gown and caressing my hip. Goosebumps rise all over me, and I rest my head on his chest.

“I love you,” I whisper again.

He squeezes my hip and kisses my forehead, his warm lips a balm on my heart.

His throat clicks, his body tensing with effort. “Never let you go, little lamb.” The words are barely a rough whisper, but they send a tingle through me all the same.

I smile against his chest, safe in his arms, forever in his heart.

Epilogue

Emily

Adam holds my hand tightly in his as we sit outside the church in a black limo, the back windows hiding us from the churchgoers brave enough to come back for this Sunday’s service. Plainclothes officers stand in front of the main doors, and plenty are scattered throughout the sanctuary. But I don’t feel safe here. I don’t think I ever will.