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his charms on you, just hold tight to this and
recite your prayers and he’ll be forced to leave. He won’t live where God’s
presence is felt.”
    And since that day four years ago, she had never
taken the necklace off. It was exquisite. A sterling silver cross with a gold
image of Christ nailed to a smaller gold cross superimposed over it.
    She brought it to her lips, giving it a tender kiss.
Growing up in a Catholic-run orphanage had taught her to believe Father Carroll
when he’d told her that it would protect her. After all, hadn’t she been
protected thus far? She had been the only one to survive the fire….
    The priests and nuns at the orphanage had always
told her that she’d survived for a purpose. And they’d also treated her
differently than they had the other kids. They were always very protective;
acting like something evil was out to get her.
    She was glad that, although she visited them as
often as she could, they couldn’t see her now. If they found out exactly how
“of the world” the club they knew she worked at was, then they would say that
she was tempting the Beast to take her. But she knew better. She may wear a
skintight and low-cut spaghetti-strap mini-dress that showed off her long legs
and plenty of cleavage as her uniform—as well as dark eye makeup and crimson
lips—but she still wasn’t of the world. She was still the religious little girl
who had been taught to fear God’s “punishment and wrath.”
    She didn’t feel that way, though. She felt like He
would be like any other father. That He would have unconditional love. Yes,
that He would get angry at times, but that He would always forgive. That He
would do anything to protect His children. But maybe those were just the
fantastical dreams of a fatherless orphan….
    The doorbell buzzed just then, an ancient reminder
of just how long ago this building had been erected. Because it surprised her,
she looked at the clock. Eric shouldn’t be here yet…not for at least another
fifteen minutes. At least she was ready. She refused to ever make someone wait
for her.
    A genuine smile on her face, she opened the door.
But it wasn’t Eric.
    “Tracker! What are you doing here?” She wasn’t
angry—it was difficult to get her so—just surprised.
    “I thought I’d come meet this guy,” he said, his
normally sweet, boyish face hard as though he was preparing himself to go into
battle.
    Annoyance shot through her for a split second. She
didn’t need him to protect her; especially from Eric . Eric was quiet and
shy. There was no way he would ever hurt her.
    “You’ve already met him.” He was in the same
study group as the two of them.
    “But not as a prospective boyfriend.”
    “Track…. Come on,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve known me for how long?”
    He sighed as he walked in and closed the door behind
him, ruffling up his spiky hair.
    “Forever.” They’d grown up together after he’d moved
to the orphanage when he was thirteen.
    “And how many boyfriends have I had?”
    “None.”
    “So what makes you think that Eric will be any
different? I haven’t even kissed a guy on the lips. And, although Eric’s a nice
guy, I’m not attracted to him.” Eric was short and probably weighed less than
she did soaking wet. And it’s not like she weighed much with her willowy body.
She was tall and thin with a long, guitar-shaped torso that forced her to layer
her clothing so that her abdomen didn’t show, as well as womanly breasts and
hips; a strange combination. It gave her the look of a lingerie model—Crystal
had plenty of magazines hanging around that sold the skimpy attire—which was
why she made such good tips at the club.
    “Then why even let him think he has a chance?”
    Looking straight into his eyes level with hers, and
placing one hand on her cocked hip, she said, “Because he’s sweet. I couldn’t
say no when he finally mustered up the courage to ask me out. You know