How I'll Kill You by Ren DeStefano

Author:Ren DeStefano [DeStefano, Ren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2023-03-21T00:00:00+00:00

16

Love, I’m learning, is not a sudden revelation. I love Edison, but I look back and can’t be certain when it started. I love him when he sleeps with a hand on my hip, and when I hear the text chime on my phone and I know it’s him. I love him when he’s near me, but especially when I don’t know where he is or what he’s thinking.

The air-conditioning in the church is on full blast, but Pastor McDaniel looks especially wilted today at the pulpit. The sermon is about putting value on worldly things. Build your castle on a rock, he says. On salvation. The grandest palace built on dunes of sand will wash away.

Edison reaches over and puts a hand on my knee. We arrived late and slipped into a pew in the last row. We’re beyond the range of the AC and I fan myself with a pamphlet with all the upcoming get-togethers through the rest of the year. A youth Bible campout with outdoor movies next week. A devotional family-style dinner in September. Christmas pageants all through December.

We’ll skip the New Year’s Eve service. That will be our last night together and I want us to be alone.

Edison’s hand slides up my thigh, one finger moving under the hem of my blue dress. Tiny white ships ripple in the fabric at the movement.

I look at him. His eyes are straight ahead, and he cants his head thoughtfully, as though considering the sermon.

His hand moves, even as the rest of him is still. He’s in his white dress shirt, the buttons gleaming and pristine. His hair is combed neatly, and that one rebellious curl has escaped again. The one that hints at something wild lurking within.

Curiosity turns to desire as I watch him, and I know that he feels my eyes. There’s just the faintest hint of a wicked smile on his lips. I can see his teeth. To everyone else, we’re just another couple sitting alone in the back row, where the AC doesn’t cool us. I don’t move. Don’t make a sound as his hand moves up and up.

Heat rushes to my face when he touches me. One finger slips inside me and then another. I grasp the edge of the pew. The sermon drones on, the dull beat of some distant song as the world spins on.

Edison betrays nothing, mischievous thing that he is. When I grab the fabric of his dress pants, his smile twitches and that’s all he gives me.

My back arches. I hold my breath because I’m sure that if I let it out, I’ll scream. He’s managed to surprise me. He’s decided that he can’t resist me. That he wants to see what I’ll do, just how far he can take me. I live in his head—not Jade, but me. The real me. He sees somewhere in my words and in my face that I’m more than this sweet church girl who sings “Ave Maria” and strums her guitar.

How much does he see? When did I let it slip?

I shudder, claw at his wrist with both hands.

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