I rise and stalk over to where she stands. “That didn’t work out quite as well as you hoped, did it, Mary?” I grin.
“I have no idea what you mean?” Her face reddens.
I don’t bother saying anything more. I descend the stairs, starting toward the church building to find Celeste. I know that cop will be snooping around here. Once you give them a bone, they hold on to it for dear life.
* * *
September 3rd
I know I shouldn’t get behind the wheel after drinking, but I do it anyway. My friend, Kevin, tries to convince me to stay the night, but a guy doesn’t get to score with Olivia Kent every night, and I am not about to let the opportunity pass me by. She hops into the passenger seat of my Aston Martin, turning the music up. Our friends catcall when she slips out of her tank top. It is no surprise that she isn’t wearing a bra. “You coming or what?” she asks.
I can’t keep my eyes off her tits. I slide into the driver’s seat, turning the key in the ignition. She literally moans when the engine purrs to life. Damn, she is hot. We hit the highway and she leans over the center console to unzip my jeans. The situation escalates pretty quickly, and before I know it, she’s giving me head right here in the car. I can’t concentrate, it feels too good. I don’t notice I’ve moved into the oncoming lane until it’s too late. The last thing I see are headlights as they barrel toward me. I scream, and Olivia sits upright just as my vehicle collides with another. We’re flying around inside the car, and I’m praying to God, to anyone, that she makes it, that I make it, that the other people make it. There is nothing more sobering than that moment in between.
I woke up in hospital a few hours later, Olivia in the bed next to me. We both made it out with a couple of scratches, but I'm told the young man in the other car wasn’t as lucky. My father will make it all go away. He'll make sure it looks like I was never even at the scene. When you’re Kenneth Michaels, you can do anything.
* * *
The memories from that night still haunt me. I sometimes wonder if things would be easier for me now had I gotten the punishment I deserved, But then I realize that I never would have met Celeste. I sit in her room, waiting for her. She always comes to her room for her evening prayers. I know I shouldn’t be in here, but the chances of someone else walking in here with her are slim. That fucker Thomas only comes into her bedroom at night, after their sessions. Eventually, Celeste opens the door, her face actually lighting up when she sees me. I stand and she launches herself into my arms. “God, I missed you.’ I whisper, holding her close.
“You okay? You haven’t changed your mind have you?”
“Not on your life.” I tell her. “But we do need to talk.” I rub a knuckle over her cheekbone.
I sit and pull her down on my lap. “This is odd, you know, letting myself get close to a man like this.”
I press my lips to hers, and she adjusts herself so she’s straddling me. As tempting as she is, I kiss her softly and redirect her. “Talk first.”
I tell her about the accident and about my discussion with Ben. “If you change your mind, I’ll understand.”
She tilts her head to the side. “You know my darkness, Priest, you’ve witnessed it first-hand. You can blame it on my upbringing, on Sister Concessa, and Father Thomas, but you know that there is a part of me that enjoyed it, that still does. Yet you still want me. How can I judge your sins when mine run scarlet?”
I place my hands on either side of her face, drawing her closer to me, my lips claiming hers in a kiss I hope conveys how much I desire her. I knew I wanted her from that first night I saw her. Her darkness is what captivated me. I wouldn’t have her any other way.
Chapter Nine
Celeste
Father Thomas sitsacross from me, behind his desk. He seems so much more intimidating when I don’t want to be here. I have no idea what I was initially drawn to. He abused my trust, dragged me into a sinister world that held me in its clutches.
“I trust you are ready for our confession tonight?” He doesn’t look at me when he says this, continuing to mull over the papers in front of him instead.
“Father Thomas, I don’t think I can join you anymore.”
He stops flipping through the pages and lifts his head, his eyes glowering. “I don’t believe you have a choice.”
“I don’t want to do this anymore.” My voice shakes.
“You don’t wish to fulfil your godly purpose? You want to turn your back on all we’ve achieved together.”
“Father Thomas-”
“Silence!” He shoves everything off his desk in one fluid motion, walking around the desk to stand in front of my face. “Kneel.” he demands, but I stay seated. He straightens, forcing me to rise as he grips my throat. “I believe I told you to kneel.”
Once I'm out of my chair, he forces me downward. . I struggle against him, trying to catch my breath, my hands closing over his, my eyes bulging painfully. I fall to my knees, and he lets go of my neck. “It’s seems you’ve grown a conscious. It wouldn’t have something to do with the fact that you’re Mr. Michael’s whore, would it?
He walks across the room, and I hear a key turning in the lock. I should have known better than to defy him. I turn toward him. “Father, forgive me -”
“You know the price of sin.” He opens a cupboard and pulls out a studded whip. He’s used it on me before. I shudder at the memory.