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somehow save him from what he’s about to do. The drive is aimless; he lets it flow from moment to moment with the night as his guide. There’s a light up ahead, and a sign. He pulls into the dirt lot, jumps out of his Jeep, and enters the bar. It’s smoky and crowded.
    Guided by an unseen force, his brain shuts off. He orders a beer, and there’s his next victim. She looks nice, but not too nice. Short black hair, nice body, dark skin. She sits alone, tapping her foot to the thumping music. Her table is covered in empty beer bottles, wounded soldiers. Eric saunters over in slow motion and she watches him. She undresses him with her eyes. She wants him. This battle is won with ease.
       
    Headlights flash against Emma’s bedroom wall. Stormy Eyes is leaving and the spark flickers. The desire to move beyond her pain and toward something else overtakes her. She wants the spark to outshine the blackness in her heart. Losing the fight inside herself, she runs downstairs, gets in her car, and follows him. Racing along the dark road, she can see the red taillights of the Jeep. She would drive forever. She would follow this stranger forever, if she thought she could escape the ghosts that haunt her. She can almost see them in the rearview mirror, but instead of looking back, she looks ahead with defiance.
    Emma puts on her blinker, and her car rattles over the rough dirt surface. She sees him enter the bar. It’s a hole-in-the-wall, a dive. She glances down at her pajama-clad body and then up at the sky. There’s no answer there. She shuts off the engine, and closes her eyes. Once again, the emotional exhaustion permeates through her, it owns her.
    She falls into a dreamless sleep, and later awakens, disoriented in her car. She hears a giggle and sees Stormy Eyes standing in the shadows of the faint light from the bar. His Jeep is parked just a few feet away and he’s with a woman. Emma can’t quite see who it is this time. It’s beginning to become clear to her, like a shadow passing over the moon: he needs this.
    Something about his compulsion is compelling Emma. It’s pulling her away from her pain and into something else. She can see his hands touching, seeking. The girl’s feet leave the ground. Stormy is devouring her. His body thrusts into the dark-skinned girl, and flames of lust fan across Emma’s skin as she watches. Somewhere deep inside her, in a place she keeps covered and quiet, Emma wants him to get as far and as deep as he can inside this nameless, faceless girl. She wishes she could take her place, and let his body make hers forget.
    Emma’s hand slides over her own thigh as she peeks at them from the cover of her car. She surrenders to her lust and lets it take her as she sinks down into its depths. Her eyes stay locked on the couple and her hand moves faster.
    Eric’s mind is like a heat-seeking missile, it cannot be dissuaded from its course for any reason. He’s getting what he needs, and everything goes black. The girl squeals and her fingernails dig into his shoulder. He knows what she wants and he gives it to her that way. Hard, rough, and fast. His Jeep rocks back and forth against their weight. Her hot breath beats a steady cadence against him.
    Any second now.
    Almost there.

Chapter Seven
    The next morning, Emma walks into the confessional and it feels like a coffin. She confesses her shameful sin and listens to the words of the priest.
    “Rather than trying to put this puzzle together, why not consider how you can resist this weakness?” Father O’Hara asks.
    She hangs her head with remorse, but she wants an answer. “Father, why would God bring this man into my life if He didn’t want me to feel this? Aren’t these feelings His will? If I feel desire, isn’t it God that has brought this to me? Wouldn’t it be a show of His mercy for me to feel something else besides pain?”
    “God will show you His mercy when you reach the gates of heaven, my child. He will show you mercy for