Page 67 of On Your Knees

Me: They won’t recognize you as long as you don’t get too close.

She glances down at her phone, reading the message with shaking hands. Her eyes flash back up to mine, filled with fear but also a steely resolve. She knows who those men are. She knows what they’re capable of. But as long as she stays calm, I remind myself, they’ll never make the connection.

In truth, she could walk right past them, and they wouldn’t have a clue who she is. To them, women like Lina are disposable. The whores, the dancers—they blend together in the minds of men like the Delgados. They’ve probably seen so many women come and go at Club Greed that picking her out from the crowd would be impossible. In their world, women are faceless, nameless bodies used for pleasure and then forgotten.

She clutches Nate tighter, pulling him close to her side as if her grip alone could shield him from the wolves lurking in the back of the church. The way she protects her son is fierce, instinctive. I can see her trying to stay calm for his sake, but her hand trembles as it rests on his shoulder. I feel my jaw clench, wanting to tear these men apart for bringing fear into a place of peace.

Eva’s eyes lock on mine again, and in that moment, I know she’s holding it together, but barely. She trusts me to keep her safe, but how can I do that when danger has walked right through the doors of the one place she should feel secure?

I shift my stance, ready to act if necessary, and keep one eye on the Delgados, watching their every move. I can’t let them get close to her. Not here. Not now.

I begin the service, the words slipping from my mouth automatically, like I’ve done a thousand times before, but today they feel empty. They blur together, the meaning behind them lost as my mind races with darker thoughts. My focus isn’t onthe scripture or the congregation, but on the men standing in the back of my church.

Lazarus Delgado is watching me, his dark eyes cool and calculating, the weight of his presence heavy. He trusts me. At least, he thinks he does. I’m the priest he comes to for confession, the man he sees as a spiritual advisor, but if he knew the truth… I can’t even imagine the consequences.

I did ask him to come. In some strange way, I thought it would solidify my cover, but now that he's here, it feels like a trap. Why today? Why now? A thousand questions churn through my mind, but I don’t have the luxury of answers…not yet. My pulse quickens, and I force myself to breathe evenly, to keep my voice steady. It’s like walking a tightrope between two worlds—one foot in the role of priest, the other in the role of a federal agent.

Part of me is tempted to spill the intel I gathered on Christopher, to tell Lazarus that his favorite lawyer was seen at Club Throwdown this weekend, rubbing shoulders with Yuri Checkov, thebratvaboss. How would he react to that? Would it spark a war between the Delgados and the Russians? Or would he shrug it off, a mere annoyance in the tangled web of criminal alliances?

My thoughts spiral as I glance at Eva. She’s sitting there, trying her best to look calm, her body angled protectively around Nate. She has no idea how deep this goes, how dangerous these men are. And here I am, juggling secrets that could blow this entire operation sky-high.

Lazarus shifts his stance, his fingers tapping lightly against his thigh, as if he’s waiting for something… or someone. I can’t help but wonder if he’s here for more than just the service. Does he know? Could he have caught wind of my true identity? Or is thisjust a show of power, a reminder that even here, in God’s house, the Delgados rule?

I keep my voice steady, but the unease gnaws at me. Every word I utter feels like a lie, a thin veil of piety covering the truth. My hands grip the edge of the podium, knuckles white, and I resist the urge to meet Lazarus’s gaze too often. He trusts me, but trust is a fragile thing in this world.

And I wonder how long I can keep walking this line before it all falls apart?

After the service, I force myself to mingle with a few churchgoers, exchanging small pleasantries, though my mind is elsewhere. Eva ducked out the moment it ended, slipping away before I could say a word. I don’t blame her. The Delgados being here has probably shaken her to her core. But I need to see her, to make sure she’s okay. And to explain things, though I’m not sure where to even begin.

My eyes scan the room, half-listening to a sweet elderly woman thanking me for the sermon, but it’s not long before I spot Lazarus lingering near the back entrance, arms folded, his expression unreadable. He’s waiting for me.

I give him a nod and offer a quick goodbye to the parishioners before making my way down the aisle, each step feeling heavier than the last. His men stand beside him, their presence a bold reminder of the world we’re both tangled in.

"Father," Lazarus greets me with a faint smile, though there’s an edge in his voice, as if this meeting isn’t entirely casual. "Is there somewhere we can go to talk?"

I nod, forcing a smile of my own. "Of course. We can meet in my office."

Without another word, I lead him and his men down the narrow hallway at the back of the church. The sound of their footsteps echoes off the walls, reminding me of the dangerous company I’m keeping. My pulse quickens with every step, my thoughts racing ahead, trying to anticipate where this conversation will lead.

The hallway feels too short as we reach the door to my office. I push it open, gesturing for Lazarus to enter first. He steps inside, his eyes scanning the modest room—a simple desk, a few chairs, bookshelves filled with religious texts. It’s not much, but it serves its purpose.

His men linger by the door, standing like silent sentinels, their eyes never straying far from their boss.

Lazarus turns to me, that faint smile still playing on his lips, but his gaze is sharp, assessing. "I’ve been hearing things, Father," he says casually, though the weight of his words hangs heavy in the air. "And I thought I’d come straight to you for clarification."

I sit behind my desk, forcing myself to remain calm. "What kind of things?"

He chuckles lightly, but there’s no humor in it. "About loyalty. About certain...relationships." He leans forward slightly, resting his hands on the desk between us. "I trust you, Father. But trust is a dangerous thing in my world, as you know."

The unspoken threat is clear. My heart pounds in my chest, but I meet his gaze head-on, knowing this moment is critical. Whatever he’s here to discuss, I need to tread carefully.

"I’ve only ever served this church and its congregation," I say, keeping my voice steady. "And I serve you in the ways I’m able, as your priest."

Lazarus studies me for a long moment, his dark eyes searching mine, before he finally leans back in his chair. "Good. Then let’s talk about how you can continue to serve me."

I knew this day would come. The moment when the mob would tighten its grip on the church, twisting its sanctity for their own purposes. And now, here it is. I can’t act surprised; Lazarus using my church for his dirty dealings was something Vin and I anticipated. In fact, we were banking on it.

This is the break we’ve been waiting for.

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