Flee From Evil Read online

  “Nope.” His eyes sparkled like he was watching bubbles float around the office. “Fo’ a man’s ways are in full voo uff de Lord, and he examines aw his paths. Das wat I read in da Bible tuh-day.”

  Vince spied the sermon notes and realized he had too much to do to go home now. “That’s nice Amit. So glad you’re learning God’s word. It’ll serve you well.”

  “Yep.” The simple man turned as if studying each wall along the way. “It’ll serve you well, Passa Vinss. Das right.”

  Vince’s heart went right out the door with the big guy. Why did God allow someone so sweet to be so afflicted. The workings of God were beyond Vince’s understanding, but sometimes he wished God would heed Vince’s requests.

  Then he thought of the old Vince, and was glad his Creator didn’t bow to the likes of him.

  After writing up a To Do list for the next day, Vince locked his office door and headed past the sanctuary. He peeked in out of habit—like checking in on God—and found a lone figure in a second-row pew, staring toward the stage.

  Sophie.

  The loneliness emanated from her as he approached. She barely even registered Vince’s presence, then straightened as he sat next to her. “Oh. Hi, Pastor Vince.”

  “What are you doing in here? Shouldn’t you be with the youth group?”

  “It’s over.” Her shoulders rose and fell. “And my ride left me.”

  “Sky?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you need a way home?” Bad question. He couldn’t give it to her since he avoided being alone with females so as not to be accused of his former behavior.

  “No. I called my mom. She should be here soon.”

  “What happened with Sky?”

  She turned. Her eyes held a candor much like her mother’s always had. “You should know. You were watching the whole time.”

  Caught. He fidgeted with the tissue box at the end of the pew. “Not the whole time.”

  Sophie sighed. “I didn’t even get any pizza.” She placed her hand on her stomach. “And I’m starving.”

  Vince stood and held up a finger. “Be right back.” He ran to the lounge and found the last box open displaying a lonely triangle dotted with pepperoni. His favorite. He snatched it, grabbed a plate, and ran back to the sanctuary where Sophie sat, a little smile creeping up her face.

  “Is this what you want?’

  She nodded, smile lengthening.

  “Oh, too bad.” He held it to his lips. “It’s the last one.”

  Her mouth dropped open. Eyes incredulous.

  Vince took just enough of a bite to hook some cheese in his teeth and stretch it for effect. “Mmmm. So good.”

  “That’s just mean.”

  Vince agreed. “What?” But he feigned innocence instead.

  Her voice became brazen for a teen addressing her pastor. “To dangle something you know I want, in front of my face, only to not let me have it.”

  He shook his head. “But pizza’s not good for you. I’m doing you a favor not giving it to you.”

  She planted her fists on her hips. “Then why did you taunt me with it?”

  “That’s not taunting.” The ire in her eyes, so much like Cass, only prompted his mischievous nature. He waved the plate under her nose so she could absorb the aroma. “This is taunting.”

  Oh, her expression so familiar it made him weak. He broke off a crumb of crust. “Here, take this.”

  She grimaced. “That would only make me hungrier.”

  “It wouldn’t satisfy you?” He put the piece in his mouth.

  “No. Tasting it would make me want more.”

  “Hmmm.” He smiled and held the plate out to her. She hesitated before taking it. Probably wondering if he’d jerk it away.

  Her chuckle was ornery. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

  “You mean, make you think I was getting you pizza, then not giving it to you.”

  “Yes.”

  “I never said I was getting it for you.”

  “But I … you …” Her brows scrunched together. “It was implied.”

  “No it wasn’t.”

  She glared.

  “You only assumed it from my behavior.”

  She shrugged. “Right. Exactly.”

  “Kinda like Sky, tonight.”

  Her head swiveled. “What?”

  “He made assumptions about you based on your behavior.”

  “What do you mean?” Her defensive tone suggested she knew exactly what he meant.

  “You waved a pizza under his nose, so he could see, smell and touch it, but had no plans to let him indulge.”

  She stared at her nails.

  “At least I hope you hadn’t planned to.” He sat next to her. “You know pizza isn’t very nutritious.”

  Her small chuckle suggested the tension broke a little.

  “Careful Sophie. You’re a beautiful girl. You don’t need to dress like this.”

  She peeked up at him. His heart hurt for her. He could see she just wanted to be loved.

  He nodded to her short skirt. “What you wear, whether you like it or not, sends a message to a guy.” He looked into her blue eyes. “Make sure your message is that you deserve his respect. That you want to be loved. Not used.”

  Sophie nodded, tears gathering. “I don’t know why I did it. But somehow …” she picked at the polish on her nails, “wearing this makes me feel powerful, in control.”

  Vince swallowed hard. “It makes you powerful all right. But not in control. Kind of like the ring of power in the wrong hands.”

  Sophie smirked. “Don’t tell me you’re a Lord of the Rings freak like my dad.”

  Vince warmed at the idea of being like the man she obviously admired. He lifted a shoulder. “A little.”

  She gave him a placating look. “I get it. This power is dangerous.”

  He rested his arm along the pew above her shoulders. “Exactly. However, I must say, I love your honesty.” He chuckled. “So much like your mom.”

  Her jerk told him he’d said too much. “Did you know my mom? I mean, before?”

  “Get your hands off my daughter!” Cass’s voice rang through the sanctuary, echoing like a command from the grave. Sophie bolted upright.

  Vince stood. “Cass.”

  “Sophie, go to the car.” Her voice was firm.

  “But mom—”

  “Sophie,” she ground the words through her teeth. “Go to the car. Now!”

  Vince braced himself for the onslaught he had no power to defend. Sophie ran out the door, glancing back as if she feared for his safety.

  “What were you doing with my daughter?”

  “She was upset—”

  “And you were comforting her?” The anger in her voice blazed. “How convenient for you.”

  “What kind of a creep do you think I am?”

  Her eyebrows shot high, and her mouth opened to speak.

  “Don’t answer that. I know full well what kind of creep you think I am.” His head swiveled back and forth. “But there is no way I’d hit on that young girl.”

  “Ha!”

  He met her glare and whispered with force. “Is she mine?”

  Cassandra blanched.

  “Why didn’t you …” He thrust his hands in his pocket. “Never mind.”

  Cass raised a finger at him like he’d broken his mother’s prized vase. “If she had been yours and you had your usual way,” her face contorted as though she held back a geyser of emotion, “she’d be dead right now.” With those words Cassandra pivoted and strode out the door.

  ~*~

  Cassandra dropped into the driver’s seat of her Lincoln Aviator, and started the engine. It gasped and strained and revved before kicking into life. Cassandra could almost hear Sophie’s teeth grind next to her.

  “What did Vince—” Cassandra glanced over and noticed the skirt that barely covered her daughter. She scanned the rest of Sophie’s outfit and air fled her lungs. “What in the w
orld do you think you’re doing in those clothes?”

  Sophie pulled up the neckline to finally cover the top edges of her lacy pink bra. “I don’t need another lecture about my outfit.” Her voice cracked. “Pastor Vince gave me the full picture.”

  “What does that mean?” Cassandra could only imagine what type of picture Vince could draw up.

  “He said I was like smelling a pizza without being able to eat it.”

  “What?” Cassandra almost veered off the road. “He better not have been smelling your pizza.”

  Sophie sighed emphatically. “No, Mom. You don’t get it. He also said it wasn’t nutritious.”

  “What’s not nutritious?” Cassandra’s muscles seized.

  “Pizza, Mom. Aren’t you listening?”

  Cassandra hoped shaking her head would make the pieces of this conversation fall together right.

  Sophie sucked in a big breath, causing her shirt to dip and show her bra again. She turned to face her mother full on. “Pastor Vince suggested I not tempt guys to eat pizza because it’s not good for them.”

  By the pointed look in Sophie’s eyes, and the dramatic way she formed the words, Cassandra got the impression Vince imparted a valuable lesson about dressing modestly and saving one’s self for marriage without actually using the word “sex.” Incredible. Only Vince could talk his way around that one. And for once, she valued that particular gift.

  The oncoming headlights whizzed by as Sophie’s gaze burned into Cassandra. Her daughter expected something from her, but Cassandra wasn’t going to give it.

  “Are you ever going to tell me how you know Pastor Vince?”

  “No.” The headlights were hypnotizing.

  Sophie pulled the passenger-side visor down, brushed her black bangs out or her face, and looked hard at her reflection in the little mirror. “Is he—”

  At Cassandra’s fierce glare, Sophie’s mouth shut quick. Now her daughter stared at the headlights too.

  The rest of the drive home remained silent except for the occasional rattle of the aging engine and little sniffs from Sophie as she drew the back of her hand under her nose, and knuckled her eyes.

  Cassandra’s world was unraveling around her. Everyone kept asking the question as though she kept a secret. Little did they know she didn’t have the answer herself.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sitting at the glass-top table on Billy’s waterfront deck, Vince calculated the golf scores of the guys he’d just played with—Billy, John and Ayo. “What did you get on sixteen, again, Billy?”

  His friend fished three golf balls out of his cargo shorts, scrunching his fu-man-choo. “Can’t remember.” He held them up. “But I found three Titlest on that hole, just outside the rough.”

  “I think it was a twelve.” Vince scribbled on the card. “Felt like we were there all day.”

  Ayo nodded emphatically as he pet Smokey, Billy’s German Shepherd, who sniffed the edge of the table.

  “Well, yeah. That’s a tough hole. Great place to find lost balls though.”

  John pulled a few from his pocket, and placed them on the table top. “I don’t know. I got five on number thirteen. People always hit into the woods to avoid the water there.”

  Vince sighed at the image of the two men in the trees looking for other people’s balls rather than their own.

  Smokey barked as if he wanted one of those balls himself. Billy dug his hand into the potted plant by the steps, found the ratty rope toy, and tossed it in the lawn. Smokey shot off after it.

  “So who won?” Ayo slid into the chair next to Vince.

  One of John’s pilfered balls hit another, causing a domino rolling effect. He corralled them so they didn’t all fall off the table. “I think Billy beat me this time.” He looked over at the other man’s collection. “That extra Callaway from eighteen put you one over.”

  “Yeah, but you got a Pro-V and two of mine are Top Flights.” He jabbed a thumb toward Vince. “He’d say yours are more valuable.”

  Shaking his head, Ayo blew a breath. “I was talking about the score.” He turned to Vince, his dreadlocks brushing the shoulder of his striped polo. “Well?”

  “You did, my friend.”

  Ayo’s wide smile shone from his dark features. “Two weeks in a row.” His eyes probed. “What’s with you, man?”

  Vince leaned back in his chair. “Got my mind on other things.”

  “Hmmm.” Ayo stood and grabbed a soda can from a cooler.

  Vince fished the card into his back pocket.

  “That Amit guy seems to be working out, huh?” Billy tugged the rope toy from Smokey’s mouth and tossed it again.

  “Yeah, the bathrooms have never been cleaner, and I can find things in the supply closet.” John sipped from a Dr. Pepper can.”

  Ayo said, “I think the dude’s prophetic.”

  “How’s that?” A breeze brushed over Vince’s skin.

  “You know how we’ve all been praying for Neil McLean ever since he told us he planned to propose to Teresa Greenfield?” Ayo glanced around at the concerned nods. “And how we’d all like to tell him she’s a shrew, but we’re afraid he might get offended?”

  “I never said she was a shrew.” John, ever the peace-maker.

  Ayo’s eyes pinned him. “Yeah, but you were thinkin’ it.”

  John’s mouth twisted. “Still, we should pray for her.”

  “Anyway, Neil came up to me last week and said Amit stopped him in the men’s room one day and started quoting from Proverbs.”

  All the men’s heads bounced, having been held up by Amit’s verses themselves.

  “Neil said he quoted Proverbs 27:15-16, A quarrelsome wife is like a constant dripping on a rainy day, restraining her is like restraining the wind or grasping oil with the hand.”

  Billy’s mouth dropped open. Vince’s muscles tensed, and John stared at Ayo.

  Ayo gave them all a knowing look. “Yeah. At first Neil thought it was just the verse he was on that day, but the words kept echoing in his head, until—as he put it—he realized they were true.” He tapped his fingers on the glass table. “Neil broke up with Teresa three days ago.”

  Each man in the group furrowed a muscle on his face. Billy scrunched his mustache. John got mirrored commas on his forehead, as Ayo kept nodding like he knew he hit his mark.

  Verses Amit had quoted Vince came back to mind. Like the one that spoke to so many parts of his past, “Give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me only my daily bread. Otherwise I may have too much and disown you and say ‘Who is the Lord?’ Or I may become poor and steal and so dishonor the name of God.” Then there was the one he quoted the other day, “Many are the plans in a man’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.” How could Amit know these verses would resonate? Was he telling them something they needed to hear that day? Vince shook his head. “You’ve been reading too many End Times novels, Ayo.”

  “Bah.” John grimaced.

  Billy whapped Ayo on the head. “You had me scared for a minute there.”

  Now Vince wondered what verses they’d all been quoted.

  Needing a break from this conversation, he stood and entered Kat and Billy’s house through the sliding-glass door. Kat was washing lettuce in the sink.

  “Can I help you with lunch?”

  She only shook her head. Something was up. This woman never missed an opportunity to talk.

  “I see Lilly-White’s here.” Lew opened the fridge and took out a beer. “Chasin’ little balls into holes?”

  “Well some of us were. Others chased them into the rough.” Vince smiled at Kat. “Billy still thinks the one with the most balls found wins.”

  She ripped lettuce as if decapitating it.

  Lew’s lids lowered to half-mast. “Makes more sense to me. At least the winner has the highest score rather than the lowest.” He popped the beer bottle opened with the handle of a drawer. “Don’t they teach you boys math in college?” He slid out the back door to
the deck before Vince could answer.

  “What’s Lew doing here?”

  Kat arranged the lettuce like she was dressing a reluctant child. “He’s moved in.” She finally looked up. “Got your old room.”

  “What? He didn’t like Shelby’s pink, lacy curtains?”

  “She still uses it when she comes to visit.” Kat opened the fridge and extracted bags of peppers, onions, and carrots. “He lost his job again.”

  Vince pushed his hands into his pockets. He knew how helpless Billy and Kat felt when it came to Lew.

  “Random testing.” She shrugged. “Delivery companies tend to like their drivers sober.”

  “Is that what’s got you in such a foul mood?”

  Kat faced him, eyes singeing his.

  “Did I do something to make you angry?”

  She ripped open the bag of onions, almost sending them up in the air.

  “Come on, Kat. You’re mad. What’s up?”

  “What did you really do to that girl?”

  Where did that come from? “Who? What?”

  “Cassandra.”

  Vince’s jaw dropped. His mind couldn’t catch up with a way around the truth.

  “You said she was furious when she found out about the bet.”

  Oh boy, she knew too much. “I never said it was Cassandra.”

  Kat eyed him.

  “Okay, fine. Yes, it was Cassandra. But you understand why I don’t want the rest of the congregation to know about her. It’s not my place to tell.”

  She pulled a large chopping knife out of the drawer and pointed it at him. “That’s not what I’m worried about. I want to know what you did to her.”

  Toeing one of Smokey’s rawhides on the floor, Vince reluctantly said the words again. “I told you. I bet my buddy Drew I could ‘de-pure’ her, as he called it.” Bitterness burned in his chest at the word he now realized stole something precious. “And she found out right after I’d done it.”

  A heaviness weighed on him. Visions of her pulling herself from his bed after his father had come in, wrapped in his sheets as she sobbed and screamed at him, cut through him, making it hard to speak. She’d tried to dress, while remaining covered, but the movements were awkward and she faltered. Vince wanted to go to her, comfort her, tell her he really did love her, but he could never use that word on her. He’d used it so loosely with all the others, it seemed an empty shell to him. Maybe he could prove what he felt later. Not that night. She wouldn’t listen in her state of mind.