TWENTY-FIVE

THE TV REMOTE FELL from my hand as the deceptive spirit I’d been calling Father approached, radiating light from head to toe like a parody of holiness. Three dark figures trailed behind him.

“Tell me who you are.” I refused to run. “Who’s with you?”

He gave me my father’s smile, like old times.

I raised my voice. “You’re not who you claimed to be.”

“I’m exactly what you need. A father figure, sent to guide you.”

The three silhouettes fanned out and surrounded me. I recognized one as Lucas, only now his jeans and T-shirt were dirty and torn, his face smudged and filthy. I stayed focused on the one who bore my father’s image. “You’re a liar.” I still couldn’t fathom that my real father was alive.

His mouth twisted in a sarcastic pout. “Did you not feel safe and loved in my presence?”

Disgust filled me. “I’m done with you.”

He refused to give up the charade. “I can still help you. Have I not been kind to you? A source of light when you needed it?”

The four of them circled me, just beyond my aura —another sure sign they hailed from the enemy’s kingdom. I wanted to throw punches, but I knew fists weren’t weapons in their world. So I did what I knew Ray Anne would do . . .

“I’ve been given authority to overcome all the power of the enemy, and nothing will harm me.” Luke 10:19. Ray’s go-to verse. My off-the-cuff version, anyway.

He still wore my father’s face, but his eyes turned dark as coal and his voice, low and menacing. “Don’t quote Scripture at me, boy. You barely know it and don’t believe it.”

Walt’s voice came from behind me. My skin crawled to hear it so filled with hate. “You’re right, Owen. We are your enemy.”

Then Marshall. “We do have power.”

Lucas. “And we can harm you.”

They seemed to defy me —defy the Scripture I’d used on them —and yet the impostor leading the charge gnashed his teeth so furiously, I knew I must have gained an advantage. He shouted in my face, literally shaking with anger. “You think you can just get rid of me?” Flies flew out of his mouth. The earthly kind. That’s when I knew . . .

He had been the source of my infestation.

He sneered at me. “Say what you want. This isn’t over.”

All four of them sauntered into the hallway, cackling like they knew something I didn’t, then disappeared.

The darkness lifted. The power came back on. And I called Betty and begged her to please forgive me and come help me rearm my apartment.

Less than an hour later, she and her ladies came over and fortified the spiritual atmosphere.

Even after the rainbow streaks were shining again, it was hard to stop taking paranoid glances at the hallway. Other than that, I stayed glued to my TV and laptop, watching reports about my father, Stephen Grayson. It was among the top trending topics in the media.

He was reportedly weak, but his doctors were hopeful he’d recover. I learned that a hostile regime had held him and two European doctors captive all these months. My father had managed to escape but hadn’t been willing to return to the United States until the remaining hostages were rescued. Three days ago, they were, and my father was flown to a hospital in his hometown, Tulsa, Oklahoma.

Everything in me wanted to jump up and go see him —to rush into his hospital room and tell him he had a son. To discover what my father was really like. But this was a terrible time for me to leave town. Molek could return any minute.

The video of me Ray had posted already had a couple thousand hits, but that was probably because Lance had seen it and posted a video of his own, making fun of the whole thing. He called me delusional and said Arthur’s story was just a twisted legend. Then he accused me of doing this all for attention. “It’s a messed-up condition Owen’s had since high school,” he said.

I needed to stay in Masonville and try to set the record straight, yet I couldn’t imagine making no effort to go meet my father. What if I put it off and he took a turn for the worse and died? I knew hospital security might not even let me past the lobby into his room, but could I live with myself if I didn’t try?

Then again, what if I did meet him, only to have him say he wanted nothing to do with me, some surprise kid from his past?

The next afternoon, I went to Ray Anne’s to talk things through. Her makeshift apartment looked like a nursery, crammed full of Jackson’s things. We sat across from each other at her two-seater breakfast table. Her cough had gotten worse, making it a challenge for her to talk. “You have to go try to see your dad.” She cleared her throat enough to keep encouraging me. “I’ll stay on top of things here and keep getting the word out about Saturday.”

“I don’t know, Ray —”

“I do. You fell for the counterfeit. Don’t pass on the real thing.”

She was right. I had to go.

I reached across the mini table and stroked her hand. “I know I’ve done some really stupid stuff lately, Ray Anne. Stuff you tried to warn me about. I’m sorry.”

“At least you see it now.” Thankfully, she was quick to let it go. But the whole time we’d been sitting there, she kept cutting her eyes away. I didn’t blame her. I knew I was likely still loaded down with entrapments, nauseating to look at. But I didn’t bring it up or ask her to confirm it. I didn’t know how to get free, so what was the point?

I tried to stay focused on what mattered most. “That impostor spirit told me Molek is coming back in the next few days, but it could have been a lie to try and scare us.”

She leaned in toward me. “I’m not scared.”

I leaned in too, our noses nearly touching. “Me either.” I spoke with as much faith as Ray Anne, but internally, I had my doubts. Who were we kidding? We were no match for Molek, and our rushed effort to rally the community wasn’t exactly going strong. I felt like it was halftime, and we were down by too many points to recover.

Mrs. Greiner barged into the garage apartment without knocking and announced that Pastor Gordon was stopping by later. Ray Anne rolled her eyes, and Mrs. Greiner got defensive. “Yes, I put you on the sick list at church, and yes, church members are going to keep wanting to check on you.”

It occurred to me that maybe that was why Ethan had been here the other day —a church-assigned duty. Not because Ray Anne had invited him.

Had that deceiving spirit planted lies in my head about Ray Anne having feelings for another guy? The brick wall of self-defense I’d recently put up around my heart started to crumble, mistrust giving way to security all over again.

Mrs. Greiner finally left, and an idea hit me like a stroke of genius, fueled by an intense longing to spend time with my girl. My favorite person on earth. Not after my trip to Tulsa, but today.

Right now.

“Let’s get out of here,” I said. “Just you and me. Escape for a little while, like old times.”

Her smile made me want to melt.

She hopped on the back of my motorcycle and slid on a helmet as we took off, hurrying before her dad could see us and insist that we take Ray’s car. She started to wrap her arms around my waist, but I reached down and stopped her, bothered that she might feel ice-cold chains and cords draping down my chest.

It was so frustrating. I’d been liberated when I shed my shackle. Lights had no business being bound.

“I only see them off and on.” She spoke loudly so I could hear her over the engine and wind whistling past us. “And I don’t feel anything right now.”

I let her cling to me and pulled down hard on the gas, my smile as wide as the open road as I pulled onto the interstate that led out of town, away from the concentration of evil and Ethan and the threat of Molek —away from all things Masonville.

When I hit eighty miles an hour, Ray Anne threw one hand in the air. “Yes!”

Man, we really needed this.

We drove through two small hill-country towns and finally made it to our destination —the scenic lake where Ray Anne and I had sneaked off together on prom night. The sky was overcast, but it made for a comfortable, room-temperature afternoon. She pointed to a white gazebo she spotted among the trees by the lake, and I pulled over.

We sat side by side on a bench inside the white woodwork masterpiece, looking out at the serene water, discussing the shock and miracle of my father’s rescue. On and on we talked about all sorts of things, both of us vulnerable and open in a way that we reserved only for each other. At one point, she admitted that Ethan had confessed he had feelings for her, but she’d told him she wasn’t giving up on me.

Thank God.

She relaxed back onto the bench and rested her shoulders in my lap so that her shackle-free neck rested on my arm. With my other hand, I stroked her cheek. She touched my face too, staring at me with her stunning blue eyes that had a way of making my heart pound —with affection, yes, but also desire. The intense kind that makes your insides ache.

I was sure that any second, she’d sit up and scoot away —her go-to response every time the chemistry between us started heating up. But she didn’t.

“Do you think I’m too cautious, Owen? Too uptight about boundaries and stuff with you?”

Yeah. But I didn’t want to say it. “Why would you ask that?”

She shrugged, running her fingers through my hair. “We’re not kids anymore. And sometimes I just . . .” She slid her hand behind my neck, blushing a soft shade of pink. “I wonder what it’s like.”

She gave a gentle tug, inching my face toward hers. I clung tightly to her, but kept my hands gentle. She started breathing faster and blinking slower, shutting her eyes for seconds at a time.

My breath sped up, falling into sync with hers without me trying. Our faces were nearly touching. Our lips, less than a breath apart.