40. Unrequited Attraction

"No, you haven't," Cara replied evenly, though the memory of his earlier, sexually aggressive thoughts lingered in her mind like an unwelcome shadow.

"Then why are you treating me this way?" Max pressed, his gaze locking onto hers with a disconcerting intensity.

"What way might that be? Please, be specific," Cara asked, keeping her tone measured but firm.

"You're rude to me, you don't laugh at my jokes, or even notice when I'm just trying to lighten the mood," Max said, his voice tinged with sadness. "And you acted all lovey-dovey with Kyle this morning, right in front of me—even after I expressed my love for you." His eyes glimmered with a mix of longing and frustration.

'Can you believe this nonsense, Hagrit?'

[Well, at least he's not keeping it to himself anymore. He wants you to know just how much he's into you.]

'Oh, please. The guy just wants to sleep with me. It's nothing more than that, and I'll make sure it never happens.'

"I'm sorry if I came across as rude," Cara said, her voice cool and deliberate. "The other day, I wasn't in the mood for your joke, and frankly, I found it odd that you thought we were close enough for you to make it in the first place. And, in case it's slipped your mind, I'm still dealing with memory loss."

Max shifted uncomfortably but quickly countered, "I'm sorry, Cara. I just couldn't help feeling jealous when I saw you with Kyle this morning. Please forgive me. I just want us to go back to the way we were."

"And what was that?" Cara asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Lovers. Or at least potential lovers," Max said, his voice steady, though Cara immediately sensed the lie. She didn't need his words to know the truth—his mind betrayed him. Max had indeed confessed his feelings to Cara before her death, but she hadn't given him the answer he wanted.

"I'm sorry, Max," Cara said, her tone hardening. "But I have no plans to be anyone's lover. I'm single, and right now, I'm trying to figure out my life—what it was and what it could be. A relationship isn't a priority for me."

Max's shoulders sagged, though his disappointment was less pronounced than before. "Okay, I understand," he said, his voice low. "I'll try to give you your space. Maybe when you regain your memories, you and I can go back to what we were."

[I'm getting the vibe this guy is delusional. Like, dangerously delusional.]

'I'm getting that vibe too,' Cara thought, keeping her expression neutral. 'It's unsettling, really. I have this gut feeling he didn't just take Cara's rejection lightly. He did something about it. I'm trying to access his mind, but it's like there's a block. Nothing useful is coming through.'

[Do you think he's connected to Cara's death?]

'Maybe. I don't know yet. But why can't I just access all of her memories, especially the ones from that day?'

[Trauma,] Hagrit replied. [It's a big factor in what comes through. Your brain is actively shielding you from those memories because of the pain tied to them. Think about tonight—meeting Joana Trier triggered memories of your earlier encounters with her, didn't it?]

'Yeah, it came flooding back immediately she dropped me off,' Cara admitted, frustration lacing her thoughts. 'But it's still not fair. I need to know what happened to her.'

[You will. In due time.]

Cara's gaze shifted back to Max, who still stood there, his expression a mix of hope and defeat. "Good evening, Max," she said, her tone leaving no room for debate. "I hope we can just be friends."

Max hesitated but finally replied, "Yes. I hope so. And maybe…more." He offered a strained smile. "Good evening, Cara."

Cara didn't respond. Instead, she turned and walked toward the building, pushing open the entrance door. As it clicked shut behind her, she let out a slow breath, her thoughts still reeling from the encounter. This guy is trouble, she thought grimly. And I need to stay two steps ahead.

—----

—----

Walking past the sitting room, Cara spotted Lucrecia heading toward the kitchen. The pink top and white skinny pants she wore accentuated her curves, making her presence hard to ignore.

Cara sauntered over, her tone playful as she said, "Lucrecia, you're looking mighty fine tonight. What's the occasion?"

"Thank you, ma'am," Lucrecia replied with a polite smile. "I took the night off to sort out some personal problems."

But as Cara probed her thoughts, the truth surfaced: Lucrecia had plans to meet Rudy at a hotel and fuck each others brains out. Plans Cara had every intention of ruining.

"Sorry to hear about your personal problems. I hope you sort them out tonight," Cara said, her voice laced with feigned concern.

"Yes, I hope so, ma'am. See you tomorrow," Lucrecia said, preparing to leave. She paused mid-step and turned back. "Oh, I almost forgot—we have a guest tonight. Everyone's in the dining room."

"And who is this guest?" Cara asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's Reverend Franklin Newton, the founder of Fellowship of the Light. A great man," Lucrecia said before continuing into the kitchen, likely wrapping up her tasks before heading out to "sort her personal problems."

Fellowship of the Light… that's Farrah's father's church, Cara thought, her curiosity piqued.

She debated whether to take a long, relaxing bath to wash away the stress of the day or to make an appearance in the dining room. After a moment, she decided to drop by the dining room first, intending only to greet everyone before retreating to her room.

Entering the dining room, she saw that Lucrecia had been truthful. Everyone was there—Arlene, Travis, Ashley, and Rudy—all gathered around the table, listening attentively to the Reverend. He was a bald man in his fifties, with piercing ocean-blue eyes and a neatly tailored grey suit.

"Good evening, everyone," Cara said, her voice breaking their focus.

Arlene looked up, her maternal instincts kicking in immediately. "Honey, why are you getting home so late?"

Cara offered a reassuring smile. "Mom, things got a bit hectic at the diner today, but I managed." She tried to downplay the situation, but Arlene's sharp eyes quickly zeroed in on the faint, dried bruises on her face.

"What happened to you?" Arlene's voice rose in alarm. "Did someone attack you? Tell me what happened!"

Cara maintained her composure. "It's nothing, Mom. I had a small accident at work and hit my face on the counter. Nothing serious—it barely even hurts. Most people didn't even notice." She smiled lightly, hoping to ease her mother's concern.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed the Reverend watching her intently. His gaze lingered longer than felt comfortable, and it sent a slight shiver down her spine.

Turning her attention to Ashley, Cara caught her lover's eye. "I need to take a bath," she said, her tone deliberate. "Maybe I'll join you all afterward."

She had barely taken a step toward the door when Reverend Franklin reached out and clasped her hand. The sudden gesture startled her, and her body stiffened at the unexpected contact.

"Young lady," the Reverend said, his voice low but firm, "we have a lot to discuss."