Page 112 of Raise Hell

Twenty-Two

I’ve learnedmy lesson about the confessional at St. Bart’s, but that doesn’t stop me from visiting the sanctuary.

Quiet stillness envelops me as I step through the heavy oak doors. The nave and gallery are deserted. My footsteps echo on the marble floors as I approach the choir pit. Normally, just being in a place of peace would be enough to comfort me, but my mind is in too much turmoil.

My sister wasn’t a victim of just one guy.

She was a victim of half-a-dozen.

Drake saved her life.

But it might be because of him that her life was on the line in the first place.

Anyone could be hiding behind those masks.

No priest would be able to tell me the appropriate number of Hail Marys to say when you sleep with a guy who might be protecting your sister’s killer.

I know she isn’t dead, at least not in the literal sense. But you can’t spend this much time in a coma and then just wake up one day like nothing happened.

Even if Olivia regains consciousness, she will never be the same.

The one thing I could do for her was find out who hurt her and make them pay.

But all I’ve managed to do is stomp all over her memory.

No one here will remember Olivia Pratt in a way that is real. It’s just one more way I’ve let her down.

I sink into a pew in the front row. My gaze moves to the effigy of Christ on the cross that hangs above the pulpit. A sacrifice for the greater good. He met betrayal with words of forgiveness.

All I have in my heart is impotent rage.

Is it a sin to wish you could bring down the wrath of heaven?

I take out my rosary.

“You never told me what the skulls mean. Seems a little sacrilegious.”

Somehow, I already knew he would come find me here. We’ve been on a collision course with each other since the day we met.

The crash is inevitable.

I turn in the pew so I can watch Drake slowly approach.

“It’s the opposite, actually. Have you ever heard the phrase memento mori? It means remember you must die. The skulls are meant to represent a contemplation of mortality. Death might be frightening, but it is also inevitable.”

He sits at the edge of a pew opposite me so the aisle separates us. “How morbid.”

“No man will escape the cold embrace of death. That’s why we get so focused on what comes after. The possibility of an eternity in heaven is the only way we can contemplate death without despair.” The silver skulls are dull on the sides from where my fingers have rubbed over them hundreds of times. “I hope you don’t think you’re going to live forever.”

His breath eases out in a sigh. “I’m mostly concerned with getting through the night.”

A thrill of unease moves up my spine. “Then don’t let me keep you from your penance. Sounds like you need to be quick about it.”

Drake grabs my wrist when I stand, arresting my movement down the aisle. “We need to talk.”

Metal digs into my palm when I squeeze the pointed skull beads. “I disagree.”

“Every time I think I know who you are, it all changes. Tell me what I’m supposed to believe.”

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