Deadly Charm Read Online Free

seat she was dragging me to, or I’d end up spilling my guts—and not in the “confession that’s good for the soul” way.
    Of course, she’d chosen me alone as the focal point of her wrath. My blissed-out pal had smiled at her and skipped ahead to his seat in the VIP section—two pathetic, nearly empty rows in front.
    â€œThis way, missy ,” the evil usher hissed, with a snort that smacked of her disapproval. It was the race thing. I could just feel it. Rocky and I had been through this too many times before. Not everyone wanted to see Dr. King’s dream of black and white together realized. Still, it wasn’t her business.
    Besides, we weren’t a couple anymore, and I happened to be a “mrs.,” not a “missy.” I wanted to say so in an effort to defend myself against her snark, but I figured she’d really do me bodily harm if I had the audacity to be that brazen. As it was, she kept looking from me to Rocky. Her disapproval burned into me. Or was that heartburn? I couldn’t tell.
    â€œHe’s my pastor. Sort of.” I didn’t know what else to say. I hadn’t necessarily replaced him.
    That infuriated Granny Hook even more and elicited a tighter squeeze. She brought her face close to mine. “You ain’t got no business goin’ round with yo’ pastor, hussy .”
    Why did everyone find that idea appalling? Did somebody publish a church etiquette book stating that under no circumstances should one date her pastor? Did I miss a memo? And did that old bat just call me a hussy?
    â€œLook, lady, I’m married. To someone else.”
    She glared at me. That did it. I could see my sinner status grow exponentially in her glassy eyes. I had become the whore of Babylon.
    I tried to wrench myself from her grip to go sit with Rocky, but the guerrilla grandma yanked me to the center of the gymnasium. “Demon,” she hissed.
    â€œLook, I know you and I didn’t get off on the right foot, but I hardly think—”
    â€œShush.”
    I shushed.
    Granny got very close to me. “You foul demon of interracial dating and adultery, come out in Jesus’ name.”
    â€œ What? Demon of inter—”
    â€œShut up.” She slammed her open palm against my forehead.
    â€œOw! Lady!”
    Must not have been the response she wanted. “Come out!”
    Just then a few more faithful joined her in casting out my interracial-dating-and-adultery demon. I briefly wondered if that was one demon or two.
    â€œListen, everybody, I’m not possessed. I’m not even dating, interracially or otherwise.”
    This didn’t sit well with Granny Hook. She pulled me to the front of the auditorium as if she were my mother threatening to give me a beatdown.
    A cameraman, his camera mounted on a huge tripod with wheels, came over to us. I noticed Hook had strategically marched me up to stand in front of the Plexiglas podium with the new Ezekiel “Son of Thunder” Crusade logo. At the same time, a very well dressed man, much shorter than the giants that greeted us at the door, stuck a microphone in my face.
    Grandma Hook spat her words at me. “You lyin’ demon ! Name yourself.”
    â€œI don’t have a demon.”
    â€œ Name yourself!” She grabbed my shoulders and gave me a brain-rattling shake.
    â€œI’m Amanda !” I certainly wasn’t going to let her call me Bell.
    â€œLiar!”
    I started fishing around in my purse for my driver’s license. I could hear someone call out from the audience, “Uhn-uh. Them demons be lyin’. Don’t wanna lose they home. Gon’ and cast it out, Sister Lou.”
    Sister Lou snatched my purse away from me and threw it onto the floor, no doubt for effect.
    â€œCome out!” Her spittle showered my face. She gripped my head with her talons digging into my forehead. Honestly, her laying on of hands almost gave me a