Read A Preacher's Passion for Free Online Page A

your medication?” he asked, reading the label.
    Robin glared at him, silently pulling on the handcuffs. “Let me go,” she whispered, the fight appearing to leave her. “I’ll go, just take off these handcuffs and give me my shit!”
    Greg emptied the bullets from Robin’s gun and then placed it and the other contents back in her bag. He uncuffed her, grabbed her arm firmly, and demanded the location of her car. Robin was seething, but knew her ill-conceived plan needed to be revised. She pointed to her car and walked complacently by his side as he ushered her to the vehicle. Greg hovered closely as Robin opened her purse, retrieved the car keys, unlocked the door, and got inside. Greg closed her car door and motioned for Robin to roll down the window. Robin hesitated briefly before doing so.
    “What?!” she asked angrily.
    “Look, I don’t like treating anybody forcefully; you’re a child of God like the rest of us. But I think you need help, a doctor or something.”
    Robin got ready to roll up the window but Greg placed his hand on the glass. “I’m not saying you’re crazy”— like hell I’m not , he thought—“but everybody can use a little help now and then, am I right?” He managed a slight smile and looked at Robin with compassion.
    Something pricked at Robin’s heart, almost caused her to believe this man meant her good. But the feeling lasted no more than a second. He was just another one of Vivian’s puppets, somebody else kissing that heifa’s ass.
    I hate her, Robin thought. But she tried not to show this emotion as she sweetly asked the security guard for her bullets. “I live in a rough neighborhood,” she reasoned. “I’m not going to shoot anybody. Now, can you give me my bullets back? I ain’t got money to buy no more.”
    “I can’t do that, Ms. Cook,” Greg replied. “And if you don’t have a license to carry that weapon and get stopped by the police, you can go to jail.”
    The word jail reverberated through every fiber of her being. As much as Robin hated anyone or anything, she hated thoughts of returning to that hellhole the most. Again, something connected to Vivian stood in the way of having what she wanted, what she deserved. Her dark mood quickly returned. “Get your hands off the glass, muthafucka,” she snarled. “And let me go.”
    Greg released the window, which Robin promptly rolled up, even though the temperatures hovered around ninety degrees. She accelerated from the curb and away from KCCC without looking back.
    Immediately Greg called an assistant who was posted inside the church. “Escort Pastor and Lady Viv directly to the executive suite as soon as service is over,” he said in clipped tones. “No fellowshipping, no waiting, no exceptions.”

9
Her Name Is Not Stella But…
    Carla had been both anticipating and dreading this meeting ever since Stanley got called out of town and volunteered her to meet with Lavon regarding the Kingdom Keys DVD series. Carla tried to ignore her nervousness about their meeting in her home. The location had been arranged before Stanley got called away, so Lavon could see where he wanted to tape the series’ intros. He’d thought that taping these greetings from the Lees’ home would add a warm, personal touch. Stanley had thought it an excellent suggestion. But now he was gone and Carla was home alone. Her anxiety turned to something else when she opened the door.
    “Come in, Lavon,” Carla said, in what she hoped was a casual tone.
    “Hey, Lady Cee,” Lavon replied cordially. He had a habit of nicknaming the many ministers with whom he did business, especially when there was an easy camaraderie. He’d felt comfortable with Carla since “hi, my name is…”
    “You hungry, thirsty?” Carla asked, as they walked through the foyer and into the Lees’ massive formal living room, stylishly decorated in French country chic.
    Lavon was about to say no when a tantalizing smell brushed past his nostrils. “I