Page 88 of SINS & Temptation

Sanctuary of trust . . .

The phrase lingers, gnawing at my thoughts. The church. A stronghold that weaves together the dark, dangerous threads of men who despise each other. Like Enzo and Knox.

I know Caleb Knox goes there, his St. Michael’s pendant conspicuously dangling from his neck when he’s not buttoned up to the chin. Which I only noticed it because when he left town, for once, he wore a T-shirt and jeans.

And Knox is nice and all, but he’s no Enzo.

Frankly, no one is.

But the church represents a safe haven to monsters like Andre, who had me deliver a ridiculous wad of cash to Father Marc.

I might be slow on the uptake, but eventually, I connect the dots between these three men and a priest who looks guilty as sin. “Confession,” I say aloud.

Father Marc nods. “Sure. Anytime you want. I’m happy to take your confession.”

“I’m sure you are. Just like you’re ready to take everyone’s confessions. With the world going to hell in a handbasket, business must be booming, right? Sinners swarming in to get every sin absolved—Feds and mob kings alike.”

He looks away, the conflict in his eyes unmistakable. “Kennedy, if you’re asking what I think you’re asking, I wish I could help, but?—”

“You can.”

“I can’t. The seal of confession is sacred.”

“Sacred enough to hide the truth?”

He blows out a long, tired breath. “Breaking that seal would not only violate the trust placed in me, but it could also cost me my priesthood. It’s immediate grounds for excommunication.”

“What if it prevents a crime? Or saves a life?”

“What kind of world would it be if people couldn’t safely confess every last sin, seek forgiveness, and be absolved? It would violate the sacred trust placed in me by everyone—rich, poor, old, young, cop or criminal.”

He’s in an impossible position. I get that. But so am I, and I’m not backing down. I lock eyes with him, refusing to let him look away. “My father was killed.”

His head drops. “I know.”

“I blamed Enzo, almost killed him for it, and he just took it. Didn’t argue. Didn’t even fight back. And Knox, who can’t stand him, dove in headfirst to save his life.” I press my temple, feeling like I’m losing my mind. “Please, I’m begging you, Father, what am I missing?”

His gaze meets mine, regret and compassion battling in his eyes. “I know how confusing it must be from your vantage point. And if it’s any consolation, it’s probably just as baffling for everyone involved.”

“Except you,” I snide.

“I wish there were another way. But the answers you seek can’t come from me.”

Frustrated, I explode. “You’re getting cash from Enzo and Andre, and you’re what? Switzerland?”

He hushes me, glancing around nervously. “Yes, my child, I am. Andre’s money keeps the lights on, pays for day-to-day operations. Enzo’s money goes to...”

“Free the very women Andre enslaves?”

Stunned, he asks, “Enzo told you?”

Okay, here’s the thing. It was just a hunch. But I’m pulling on this thread like it’s a marlin. Even if it is a lie. “Of course, he did. Why wouldn’t he? I’m his wife.”

Great, Kennedy. You just lied to a man of the cloth. Exactly how many Hail Marys do I need to avoid burning in hell for all eternity?

He stays silent, and our tense little walk stretches on, him lost in thought, me on the verge of shoving my hand down his throat and ripping every last secret from his chest. I mean, if I’m already going to hell anyway.

“You could at least give me a hint,” I mumble under my breath.

---