Strength (Mark of Nexus #1) (13 page)

We rode without need for conversation and, before I knew it, we were there. Getting out of the truck was a little harder than getting in, but he managed to help me down without incident. Either he was really chivalrous, or he was under the impression that I was helpless. The latter seemed more likely, given our last icy experience.

Not that I blamed him.

I straightened my skirt as we made for the entrance. The scent of fire and brimstone mixed with the crisp, winter air, and I immediately straightened my posture.
I’ve already renounced excessive drinking, okay?
I projected the thought like a defensive, anti-guilt shield as we made our way up the sidewalk. Thankfully, it’d already been shoveled and salted. I wouldn’t be giving a repeat performance of my greatest falls.

I glanced up at the old, stone chapel and felt my stomach twist in knots. It was weird going into a service cold, both figuratively and literally. Sure, I’d known Wallace for a couple of weeks now, but that didn’t make me comfortable with the arrangement. I was still an outsider.

Oh well.
It was too late to worry about it now. I’d just have to pull up my big girl panties and act like a grownup. I lifted my chin and took quick, clipped strides toward the stairs that led to the arched entryway. I could do this.

“That excited to get inside?” an amused voice called from directly behind me.

“You know it,” I lied, gripping the railing like a lifeline as I made my way to the door.

He chuckled, and I didn’t have to see him to know he was shaking his head.

“Good morning!” someone called from the doorway, beckoning us inside. “Chilly one, isn’t it?”

Gah!
It was Cafeteria Girl. I’d summoned her with my winter tights…

I plastered on my friendliest expression and brushed past her, slipping into the dark foyer. So,
this
was how he knew her. Or, at least, this could’ve been where they’d met. It all made sense now.

She was the Mary Poppins incarnate on door duty, stationed to greet everyone who came in for morning services. I turned around. If I figured correctly, I’d be getting a—

“Would you like a bulletin?” Her voice was sweet as candy as she slipped the pamphlet into my waiting hands. “Welcome to Campus Fellowship!”

“Thank—”

“Hey, Wallace!” Her face brightened as she craned her neck to meet his eyes in such close quarters. “How’s it going?” She passed him a bulletin without breaking her gaze.

“Pretty good, thanks. How’re you, Rach?” He put a hand on my back, urging me forward so he could get out of the doorway. When the door closed, the room dimmed and grew intimate.

Rach? They’re that close?

“I’m great. Thank you for asking.” Her face had to hurt from keeping that peppy expression up all the time. My face hurt, and I’d only been smiling for a minute. “Who’s your friend?”

The weight of his hand on my back disappeared. “This is Rena.” He edged around me, gesturing between us. “Rena, this is Rachel.”

Something about the girl vexed me so. She stood half a head taller than me, with meticulously-combed hair, a flimsy, floral print dress, and a cardigan sweater. In the dead of winter. Oh, and of course, she had worn the tights again.

She nodded, and her hazel eyes were light with mirth. “So great to meet you, Rena! I hope you’ll come back and visit us again sometime.”

I twisted my lips back and prayed it didn’t look as maniacal as it felt. “Maybe.”

Wallace rocked on his heels and looked around at the others assembled in the foyer. “We better go find a seat. We’ll catch you inside.”

“Sure thing.” She beamed and peeked out through the glass, readying herself for the next onslaught of parishioners.

Sure thing, she says. Ugh.
I took a step back. The foyer was warm and smelled like brewing coffee. Synthetic candlelight flickered overhead, casting a soft glow on the carpet as people milled around, lost in conversation. If I had to guess, I’d say most of them were around my age. They wore everything from sweatshirts and jeans to dresses and ties. Everyone had a different definition of Sunday best, and they were all represented without discrimination.

I knew I should’ve gone with jeans.

The sound of a live beat came from around the corner, and I blinked toward the opening to the sanctuary. Soon, a guitar riff joined in, and nobody seemed to notice. Didn’t they hear that?

“C’mon.” Wallace gestured over his shoulder as he smoothly made his way through the crowd.

I stayed close, afraid of getting separated. On my own turf, I would’ve had no problem, but here? I had butterflies.

A few people stopped their conversations long enough to nod a greeting as we passed, and I returned them as best I could, but keeping up with Wallace’s long strides wasn’t exactly easy. I was about to say something, when we turned the corner.

And the view left me speechless.

Chapter Fourteen

The chapel hadn’t seemed this large from the outside. It was like stumbling upon an ancient temple, deep within the recesses of a cave. Pew after pew of rich mahogany stretched before us, tinted in stained-glass shades of blue and violet.

Though the building had to date back at least a hundred years, it had clearly adapted to the modern world. There was a sound booth in back, a couple projectors hung from the rafters, and announcements scrolled across two screens up front. Set up on stage was a band of five guys and two girls, rocking out to some Jesus song and completely lost in the music.

I stood there, slack-jawed, until Wallace came back into view.

“Where do you want to sit?”

I blinked.

“Where do you usually sit? I don’t want to take someone’s seat.” I’d made that mistake before.

His lips twitched. “Last time I checked, there weren’t assigned seats.”

I scoffed, looking around. There were quite a few people already scattered throughout the sanctuary. I didn’t want to sit anywhere prominent. “Doesn’t matter to me.”

I could’ve sworn he rolled his eyes as he turned to scan the room.

“All right, let’s go with the back.” He marched to the right with renewed determination, assuming the most remote spot in the room. “This okay?” He’d half bent, pausing before taking his seat.

“Yeah, it’s fine.” I sat alongside him, feeling another stirring of nerves. “Sorry, I guess the place threw me off. It’s not what I expected.”

“What’d you expect?” He shrugged out of his coat and draped it over the back of the pew.

I swallowed. “Uh…” Something about the way he wore those crisp button-ups and ties intimidated the hell out of me. He looked like a man—a grown man—and I didn’t know how to act around him. As far as I knew, he was only a year older than me, but sometimes he felt so out of reach.

“I don’t know,” I answered, laying my coat beside me. As horrible as it was, I hoped it would serve as a deterrent to anyone who might consider the seat beside mine. “It’s not as stuffy as most churches I’ve been in.”

“Ah.” He nodded as if that made perfect sense. “It’s definitely not your typical church, I’ll give you that. The pastor is really cool. He lets a lot of the students run things.” He gestured toward the front. “Like praise and worship.”

“That’s cool,” I admitted. “My last church just had one of those creepy, old organs stuffed in the corner. It’s probably on some donor list now.”

He shook his head, chuckling under his breath. “The way you see things…”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean ‘nothing’?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re doing it on purpose!” I slapped his arm and immediately whipped my head around to make sure no one had seen. “Sorry.”

He grinned and leaned in like a conspirator, lowering his voice. “You’re going to get in trouuuble…”

“I said I was sorry,” I hissed, clutching at my hand.

His laugh was loud and conspicuous, and I found myself joining it. Before I knew it, we were both hunkered down in our seats, trying to contain ourselves over nothing. I held my aching ribs with one hand and covered my mouth with the other. Obviously, the stress had gotten to me. That—or he’d caught me off guard. Again.

Moments like this didn’t seem real. Given the way we’d met, the way our friendship had developed, it was almost like we were bound by some invisible cord that kept bringing us together. The notion was ridiculous, and I hated myself for entertaining it, but…

“So, you say you grew up in church?”

A familiar weight sank in my chest, crushing the idle, lighthearted musing. “Yeah. We left after a falling out when I was in high school.”

Concern lined his forehead. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be,” I muttered. “That place made me feel dead inside.”

“Why? What happened?”

I looked away and scratched at my arm. It wasn’t something I wanted to get into here. Actually, it wasn’t something I wanted to get into at all. “Just church drama. What time is it?”

He glanced at his watch. “Almost nine thirty. So, did your parents find another church?”

“Yeah, they started going somewhere east of town. I’ve never gone, but I think they like it there.” A pang of guilt shot through my system as I pictured it—a little brick building atop a big, grassy hill. “It’s just not my thing.”

“East of Wilcox?”

“Huh?” I tilted my head in confusion. “Oh, no. Sorry, I meant Clayhaven. That’s where I’m from.”

“Ah, that’s a couple hours south, right? I’m from Scion.”

“Like the car?”

People started to filter in, and he blew out a sigh. “I guess.” Obviously, it wasn’t the first time he’d heard that question. “It’s about twenty minutes outside of Columbus.”

“Oh, and your brother’s in Columbus.” I perked up, proud of myself for remembering.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Yeah.”

What was up with that reaction? He’d had the same one Thursday night, when his brother came up. Before I could question him, someone spoke up from the stage.

“Are you guys ready to worship in here?” The guy held up one arm to a chorus of cheers. “Let’s get on our feet and praise the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords!”

The speakers rose to deafening levels, and everyone jumped up like it was a free concert. Arms rose in uninhibited praise as the lead singer began to belt out another song, and the bass reverberated in my chest. I stole a quick glance at Wallace and immediately recoiled at the intrusion. His eyes were closed, and he was holding onto the back of the pew in front of us.
Crap
.
Is he praying?
I turned my head.

Around us, people were really getting into it. Lyrics flashed across the screens in mass karaoke, but I didn’t make a sound. There was no way I was going to sing in a room full of strangers. Would Wallace? I couldn’t even imagine it.

I tried to sneak another peek, and my breath caught in my throat. He was staring straight at me now, azure light pouring in over his shoulders. The otherworldly glow made him look like some kind of angelic warrior. I couldn’t—

His brow strained as he lifted his gaze to look past me.

Puzzled, I turned to find Rachel making her way down the narrow aisle, her slender form turned to the side. As she came to a stop beside me, she smiled and flipped her hair over her shoulder.

“Hey,” she whispered, directing her gaze up front. Why she felt compelled to speak, I didn’t know. It wasn’t like we were friends or something. Maybe she was still stuck in greeter mode.

To my annoyance, she didn’t miss a beat as she lifted her soprano voice to float above the others, not needing the lyrics projected on-screen. Jealousy bubbled from somewhere inside as I watched her out of the corner of my eye. It was like all those times I’d watched Disney princess movies as a kid and found myself inadequate. The girl was flawlessly feminine, and I felt ridiculous standing beside her.

Pressing my lips together, I turned my attention back toward the front. With everyone on their feet, I couldn’t see the band anymore, so I focused on the screen. I still felt guilty about my silence, but it didn’t matter. I wasn’t there to give a performance; I was there to work something out.

Wallace’s presence alone had brought things to mind I’d spent years trying to suppress, and every second we spent together wore me down a little bit more. His interest was stripping me raw, and I had to know why. Soon.

If I wasn’t careful, I’d like him too much.

“Rena,” Wallace whispered, catching my attention.

Oh God. Everyone else had already sat down.

I sank into the pew and ducked my head. Did I zone out and miss an announcement or something? My face was on fire.

Rachel had left me little room, squeezing in between my coat and the sectioned armrest. The wool served its purpose, but she still felt too close. I scooted another couple of inches to the right and froze.

My arm squished like putty against something hard, and I didn’t have to look to know what happened—I’d run right into Wallace. Thankfully, he was too absorbed in whatever was happening up front to notice. Could I scoot away without being obvious? No, that’d definitely attract attention.