Sinful Purity (Sinful Series) (37 page)

BOOK: Sinful Purity (Sinful Series)
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I had to try harder. “Z…Z…Zack,” my voice creaked again.

My shadow stalker maintained his course. He was less than fifty feet away from me now. He was so close. He had never been this close before.
Still, I couldn’t see his face. It was cloaked in darkness, in shadow. I couldn’t even make out his hands or feet. Every distinguishable feature was hidden beneath the murkiness of his black robes.

“Zack!” I screamed, victorious in horror.

“Liz? You okay?” Zack came rushing up behind me.

Breathless and terrified, I weakly raised my arm to point. My finger was unsteady as my whole limb shook with fear.

“D…do—do y…you see him?” I stuttered in horror. My entire body began to shake in unison with my arm.

“What?” Zack asked, frantically trying to ascertain the source my distress.

“There.” I pointed again. My voice relinquished its strength again, leaving me with scarcely a whisper.

Zack’s body stiffened as he seized me protectively. His grip tightened and I knew. He had seen it. He saw the malice of my would-be attacker. But if the stalker noticed Zack’s discovery, he did not react. Unfailing in his hunt, he maintained his line. Our impending doom closed in, now less than twenty feet away.

The only thing left between us and our imminent demise was a set of automatic airport doors to our right. Glass doors that held two meanings at this precise moment: our freedom or his escape. Our minds simultaneously comprehended the severity of the situation. With eyes locked on the pair of doors, our only hope of evasion, we waited for our chance. The doors opened, letting in a blast of cold air and snapping us out of our trance.

“Hey, guys. There you are. Sorry I’m late,” Caleb announced loudly as he entered the baggage terminal.

Zack and I stood there frozen and lifeless as we watched the cloaked figure slip undetected out the double doors directly behind Caleb. They had been so close to each other that the assailant’s robes wafted over the edge of Caleb’s trench coat as he fled.

“Are you two all right? Did I miss something?” Caleb asked.

Zack and I stood there dumbfounded. My heart was still pounding and my ears ached from the thumping. Zack gradually loosened his grip and began to breathe again.

“Really, you two. I’m sorry I’m late, but come on. Isn’t this a little melodramatic?” Caleb protested.

“No, Caleb,” I eked out as I pointed to the doors behind him.

“What?” He turned to look. “You guys are nuts.” He turned back and looked at us, mystified.

“It was the shadow stalker,” I said weakly, my knees weak. My body felt limp, like a marathon runner who had just crossed the finish line.

“What? Here?” Caleb asked, now understanding our panic.

“Yes,” I answered quickly.

“You saw it, Zack?”

“Yeah, I did,” Zack responded in disbelief.

“It was so close,” I bleated.

“Wait, you’ve seen it—him—before?” Zack demanded, his voice riddled with anger and fear.

“Yeah, she has,” Caleb said.

“You know too?” Zack barked at Caleb.

“Yeah, I’ll tell you all about it—”

“Can we get out of here first, please?” I begged.

“Good idea,” Caleb agreed. “I’m just parked outside.”

Once inside the safety of Caleb’s Judge, Caleb and I explained to Zack my history with the hooded figure. We told him about my fear-ridden winter break and Caleb having to drive back early from New Hampshire. I told Zack about the library and how the figure had always lurked in the shadows, never approaching, just following and observing. Tonight was the first time it had blatantly tried to scare me. Zack was not at all pleased.

“I should have known. Someone should have told me!” he yelled.

“I thought it was all over. When you came home, I didn’t see it anymore.”

“What about you, Caleb? Why did you keep my girlfriend’s stalker a secret?” Zack demanded, his face contorted with rage.

“Look, man, I never saw it. I looked after Liz, just like I promised. What was I supposed to tell you, ‘Your girlfriend is afraid of the dark’?” His sarcasm spewed out with his anger at being condemned for his good deeds and loyalty.

“Someone should have told me. If Liz isn’t safe, I should know.”

A hush fell over the car. Then a loud thud shook the vehicle.

“Hey, man, don’t punch the Judge!”

I turned around and looked into the backseat. Zack’s face was livid as he rubbed the knuckles of his fist with the palm of his other hand. I felt broken inside. I’d never meant to upset anyone. Now Zack was mad at Caleb
for his secrecy, and Caleb was ticked at Zack for his lack of respect and appreciation. And I was pretty sure Zack was upset with me for not telling him sooner. It was all a big mess and I felt awful.

We sat quietly, lost in our own angry, pitiful, resentful thoughts, until I remembered. “Caleb, what did you tell Monsignor Brennigan and Sister Christine?”

“Don’t worry, Liz, it’s all taken care of,” Caleb assured.

“I really appreciate that, but I kinda need to know,” I pressed.

“I told them that my dad had arranged for you to have a one-week internship with Congressman Reynolds. That my father thought it was a great learning experience, that it could open a lot of doors. Stuff like that.”

“And they believed that?” I asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, they did.”

“Won’t they ask your dad or Congressman Reynolds?”

“Don’t worry, Liz. I told my dad that you needed to get away. That the orphanage keeps you on a short leash and you needed a break. He totally understood. Remember our whole family feud thing? This fell right in to it. Perfectly, I might add.”

“What about Congressman Reynolds?”

“Oh, he’s back in DC for a couple of months for session. He won’t be talking to anyone at St. Matthew’s for a while,” Caleb assured.

“Wow. That’s actually a damn good plan, Caleb,” Zack complimented, trying to smooth things over.

“Yeah, it is. Thanks, Caleb,” I gushed, leaning over and rubbing his cheek with the back of my hand gratefully.

Caleb smiled, pleased with his recognition and the renewed admiration for his loyalty. “So did you guys have a good time?” he asked, making friendly conversation now that everything was forgiven.

“We had a wonderful time!” I exclaimed. “Zack’s family is great, really great.”

Zack and I told Caleb all about our week-long getaway. I told him about Zack’s funny and unique brothers and Mr. Bartlett’s agonizingly bad cooking. Zack proudly recounted my recycling scheme and how his family adored me. I told Caleb all about the adorable town and nice people. We left the mushy stuff just for us.

Then I remembered what I had uncovered in the library. I wanted to tell Caleb so badly. After taking a second thought, I decided not to say
anything tonight, not after the whole airport stalker thing. Besides, Zack was already anti–St. Matthew’s. I didn’t want to add more fuel to the fire.

Caleb dropped Zack and me off at my dorm. We headed up and went straight to bed. There wasn’t even any “funny stuff,” as Mr. Bartlett called it. I was exhausted and I could tell that Zack’s mind was still back at the airport.

The next morning Zack, Caleb, Lucy, and I were reunited through our regular school-day routine. Falling back in to the swing of things was easier than I had expected. By the time the school day was over, it practically felt like I had never left. Caleb drove me over to St. Matthew’s for my Monday night shift while Zack caught up on track practice.

Walking into St. Matthew’s, I was terrified that my secret escape had been discovered despite Caleb’s airtight alibi. To my surprise, no one at the church or at MIQ even glanced twice. A few of the sisters welcomed me back. Monsignor’s secretary asked how my trip to DC was. But that was it—no ambush, no intervention, no solitary confinement. By the time I left that night, I was certain that the secret of my clandestine holiday was safe, undiscovered. Getting into Caleb’s car, I breathed a sigh of relief.

“How did it go?” Caleb asked anxiously.

“Great, actually. No one thought twice,” I said, pleased.

“I told you.” Caleb smirked self-approvingly.

“Don’t forget to pat yourself on the back,” I teased.

He laughed. “I won’t.”

The week progressed nicely. I enjoyed being back and my classes were relatively interesting. I adored having time alone with Zack. Now that I knew so much more about him and his family, I felt privileged. I understood him so much better now, which only made me love him and enjoy his company even more.

Wednesday night I headed back to St. Matthew’s for evening Mass and confession. To my surprise, when I stepped inside the confessional and knelt down, it was not Monsignor Brennigan’s face I saw. Instead it was the familiar soft, pale face of Father Michael, the priest who had heard my confession during all those months of exile. My heart sank. Had my secret been exposed? Was I once again an outcast, an abomination to the church?

I finished my confession haphazardly and took my seat next to Sister Christine. It wasn’t until Mass began that my fears were pacified. Father
Michael spoke from the altar. “Forgive the intrusion. I will be conducting Mass this evening in Monsignor Brennigan’s absence.”

I leaned over and whispered to Sister Christine, “Where is Monsignor?”

“He is away on official church business,” she replied, not releasing one meager detail.

I sat through Mass only half listening to the young and inexperienced Father Michael. His homily was rough, unpolished, and did not hold my attention at all. My thoughts were lost in questions of Monsignor’s whereabouts. My trip to Maine had opened my eyes in so many ways. And in as many ways, it had confused my thoughts and created doubt in the depths of my soul. I sat there in the tranquility and reverence of St. Matthew’s, feeling more like an inquisitive visitor than a devout parishioner, part of the inner fold.

I didn’t know what had changed. I still loved my church. I still held my religious beliefs dear to my heart as part of who I was. But somehow there was a distance now, a more objective outlook. I didn’t understand the feeling, although I felt that this was a more honest, more whole picture than I had ever seen before.

Thursday after classes I headed over to Zack’s track practice to surprise him. He adored when I watched him excel at what he loved. He always had enjoyed attention and he considered me his own cheering section. When I wasn’t busy, I was always more than happy to oblige.

When I got to the track, I couldn’t find Zack at first. Then I saw him, in the far right corner of the field up against the chain link fence. He was talking to a shorter, older man. It was hard to make him out in the distance. Then I saw Zack punch the fence and spin around angrily. He was running back to the main part of the track when he saw me. He ran up the stairs to the bleachers. I could see his temper flaring. His face was hard, with pinched eyes and clenched jaw. His lips were tightly pursed together. I had never seen him look so menacing. Zack ran up to me and grabbed me by the arm, yanking me to my feet.

“Let’s go!” he barked.

“Zack, you’re hurting me. Let go!” I demanded in pain.

Zack never loosened his grip. He just continued to drag me behind him. I fought to break free from his crushing grip. “Zack, let go! What’s wrong with you?”

“He’s a lunatic! You’re not going back. Ever!”

“Who? What are you talking about?”

Zack didn’t say a word. He just continued to drag me until we reached Fischer Hall. By the time he let go, I was just relieved that he didn’t want to haul me all the way across campus to my dorm. We walked quietly up to his room. Caleb wasn’t there. Zack and I went inside.

“Now, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” I demanded, furious at him for his manhandling.

“Give me a minute.” Zack bent over, grabbing his knees breathing hard like he did after a race. I sat down on the bed, waiting to be appeased. Then he spoke. “Liz, I don’t care what you say. You are not going back to St. Matthew’s or that wretched orphanage. I forbid it. We’ll find you a scholarship some other way. At the end of the year it’s not going to matter anyway. We’ll head back to Maine and never come back.”

“What do you mean you forbid it?” I fumed at his chauvinistic behavior.

“Liz, listen to me. He’s behind this, all of it. I know it.”

“I don’t understand. Who? The guy you were arguing with?” I asked, remembering the stranger at the track.

“Brennigan!” Zack yelled. “It was Brennigan!”

My head reeled. “What?”

“He searched me out, Liz. He came all this way to tell me to stay away from you.”

“What? Tell me exactly what he said.” I wanted to believe Zack, but his behavior was erratic. And I just couldn’t wrap my head around what he was saying.

“Listen, Brennigan came to the track, looking for me. He said that he knew everything. That he had ways. He told me I shouldn’t have taken you away. Something about corrupting your mortal soul and our union being your damnation. He sounded crazy. Hell, he
looked
crazy.”

“Zack, that’s insane.”

“I know it’s insane, Liz. He told me that you were his.”

“His what?”

“I don’t know, but then he threatened us. Well, me. I’m not sure. He said we’d be sorry, that I’d be sorry. That I’d regret my deception.” He sounded shaken.

“Zack, that’s crazy. He’s a man of God. He wouldn’t threaten you.”

“Liz, I’m telling you the truth. He didn’t look like a man of God when I talked to him. He looked deranged,” Zack insisted.

We sat together a while, both in our own little worlds. I knew that Zack was really upset. He didn’t get upset often and this had really shaken him. Maybe there was truth behind what he said. But it was a little far-fetched. I mean, what was a priest going to do to us, banish us from Mass and church bake sales? It all sounded ridiculous.

I decided not to push the matter any farther. I called Sister Christine and told her I wasn’t feeling well. Zack and I went off to the cafeteria to get some dinner and then back to my room. Zack was distant, stressed. I didn’t know how to make it better. All I could do was reassure him that we had the weekend together to work it all out. I was sure that we’d have it figured out by Sunday.

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