Page 78 of Priest

She shoves me in the chest. I barely move but the motion has me quirking my brow.

“Stop saying that!”

I move toward her as she steps back. I move again. For every step I take, she moves backward. “You think this is easy for me? Hearing you say those things?”

“I don’t want to fight it. This is all I have.”

“Yes, and my fear is you’re clingin’ to that and I’m not gonna live up to what you want. To what you expect. To what you fuckin’ deserve!”

She frowns.

I move again and cage her in, her ass hitting the seat as I effectively trap her in.

“You deserve it too.” Her voice is soft.

“What?” I press. “What is it I deserve?”

“To be happy. Isn’t that what anybody wants?”

Not people like me. People like me just get by. I’m here to help people, not to serve myself. That was my vow when I made it out of prison. After I atoned for my own sins.

I don’t mean for my lips to find hers, but they do. With her hands pressed against the wall and my body pushing into hers, I kiss her with a vengeance against the world and every asshole in it. Not her. Never her. She did nothing wrong. My sweet, dear, precious Isabella.

I slide my tongue in her mouth and a moan leaves her throat.

Not here.

We’re in fucking church.

When I pull back she whimpers. I press my forehead against hers. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

“You’re overthinking it.”

I chuckle. “You think?” Her chest moves rapidly and I tilt her chin. “Don’t hide from me. Never hide from me.”

“I want to go now. Please, Priest. That’s enough atonement for one day.”

Hearing her say please like that, it warms me inside and it shouldn’t.

I push off the wall but remain in front of her. I’m not going to run away.

That’s one promise I know I can keep.

17

ISABELLA

I keep having bad dreams about my family.

I know that it’s just a dream, but a part of me wonders if the trauma done by them hasn’t woven its way into my soul and done permanent damage.

I’m not strong like they are. I can’t fight back. I’ve never been able to, because women were to be seen and not heard.

I also don’t want to feel like a pity party, so I tell Priest I’m tired and need to go to sleep when we get back to his place. I want nothing more than to curl up with him again, even just to feel his body next to mine. But I never want him to look at me like I’m some lost cause; like he has to fix me. I’ve always given the man in my life so much power, and I don’t know how to take the power back.

I also don’t want him to sleep with me because he feels sorry for me, but I know after my confession tonight he has questions. Maybe I said too much. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him about my family and what they did. It can only come back to haunt me.

No matter how much I vowed to myself that I would never disclose what happened the night I escaped, all I seem to want to do is tell him the truth.

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