Page 74 of Priest

A chuckle escapes me. “Fine. If you really insist on it, we can stop by the parish. I have a key.”

Her eyes light up and she jumps into my arms, wrapping her arms around me as I shake my head. “Thank you, Priest. I really appreciate this.”

She lets go and I slide my own helmet on before I do or say anything else I might regret. I climb on my sled, and she climbs on behind me as I start the engine.

She wraps her arms around my waist and my dick stands to attention. Not that it ever goes down when she’s around.

I’ve no fucking clue what I’ve gotten myself into, but I know that if it makes Bella feel safe and helps her recovery, then I’ll do it.

Or at least give it my best shot.

The parish is quiet, of course, and I refrain from turning the lights on to draw any attention. Instead, I light the candles on the precipice so we can find our way.

It’s beautiful in here by candlelight. The ethereal feel flows through the building and up the high ceilings, making it feel more godly than ever.

It also reminds me we shouldn’t be doing this.

I’m not a Catholic priest, and I’m sure as shit not qualified to hear any of what Bella has to confess. The idea unnerves me even if I have heard more than my fair share of confessions from my club brothers.

Still, the look on her face when I said we’d come did it for me. It’s like I can’t say no to her. And why would I want to?

“Priest?” she whispers.

“Don’t be afraid,” I tell her, wrapping her hand in mine.

“It’s so beautiful in here.”

I walk toward the confessional box. Some of the older parishes and churches still have them. “It is. And if this is where you feel safe to talk, then we’ll talk.”

She nods, her eyes full of trust that makes me feel even more guilty.

I gesture toward the right hand side as I grip the door handle. “Make yourself at home.”

She slips inside and I close the door, raising my eyes to the heavens as I say a prayer of my own that I’ll get through this. I also ask the Lord for my forgiveness as I let myself inside the left door.

I take a seat and slide the grille across. I can’t see her of course, but fuck if I don’t feel her.

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned,” she begins. Holy Mother of…. “My last confession was… well, a while ago.”

I don’t wanna address her as ‘my child’ but I know I have to at least make it sound like I’m being some sort of professional. “A sin in one’s heart can only be halved by the baring your soul to God,” I say.

I hear her intake of breath.

Oh, this ain’t my first rodeo.

Silence.

“Where do I begin?”

“Wherever you want to. This is about you. Atonement can only be resolved by workin’ through your troubles.”

“I hate my family.”

Okay. So that isn’t so bad. They’re a bunch of assholes. “Why do you say that?”

Of course, I know why, but she needs to get this off her chest.

“Because they’re bad people.”

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