Chapter 2: The Devil in the pew

The following Sunday, Valeth arrived at the Church of the Holy Resolve with Jude and Connor in tow. They were a startling sight—not in their usual leathers, but in tailored dark shirts and black trousers, looking more like dangerously elegant businessmen than outlaw bikers. They took seats in the middle of the nave.

The service began. Valeth’s eyes found Abigail immediately. She was at the front, organizing her choir, a vision in cream and lace. When she raised her hands and the first notes of “Be Thou My Vision” filled the vaulted space, Valeth felt something crack open inside his chest. Her voice was not just beautiful; it was a spiritual experience, a pure, soaring alto that seemed to weave light into sound. He wasn’t a believer, but in that moment, he believed in her. He would listen to this voice for a thousand lifetimes.

Later during the sermon, he remembere he don't have a Bible, but an elderly woman with kind eyes noticed their predicament and silently offered to share hers. Jude, ever the charismatic one, gave her a charming smile and nodded thanks. Connor tried to follow the scripture, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Reverend Ephraim Vale, a tall, stern man with steel-gray hair and Abigail’s green eyes, preached with fervor. His gaze swept over the congregation, lingering on the three unfamiliar, strikingly intense men. A frown creased his brow. He couldn’t place them, but an instinctive unease settled in his gut.

After the final blessing, the fellowship hall buzzed with chatter and the clink of coffee cups. Valeth watched Abigail move through the crowd, dispensing gentle smiles and kind words. He was a statue of focused intensity amidst the chatter. When approached by friendly parishioners, the three gave only their first names and said they were new in town, exploring. The genuine warmth and welcome they received was a foreign currency, unsettling yet oddly pleasant.

Finally, as people began to leave, Valeth approached Abigail. Her father was deep in conversation with a deacon nearby, his watchful eye still on them.

Valeth leaned close, his voice a low, intimate rumble that sent a shiver straight down her spine. “I’ll be waiting for you. By the store.”

He and his men left. An hour later, after helping clean up, Abigail found them there. Valeth was leaning against his bike, a silhouette of potent male energy.

“Was the mass good?” she asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

If there was one thing she underestimate, was him coming to church. The aura he exudes and the way he looks screams danger. But today he came to church, surprising her, and in a gentleman codes too. She almost couldn't recognize him. This man surely is serious about her.

“The coffee and those cookies ware exceptional,” Connor said with a genuine grin. “Might have to make it a habit.”

But Valeth’s eyes were only for her. He pulled out his phone—a sleek, encrypted device—and handed it to her. “I did my part.”

Her fingers brushed his as she took it. She typed in her number, called her own phone to show him she wasn't lying but also to save his, then handed it back. “I’m Abigail. But my friends call me Abi.”

“Abi,” he repeated, the name a prayer on his lips. He saved her number, his thumb hovering over the contact. “I’ll call you.”

After saying that, he called for a cab and motioned for her to get in. When she left, he and his friends also depart.

Two days later she called her and make plans for they're first meeting.

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