Page 18 of My Saintly Demon

The door knob turns and when the door opens, the ache I was ignoring returns.

Red-rimmed eyes peek up from under his blonde curls.

“What’s wrong? Can I help?”

I reach for him wanting to brush a stray tear from his cheek, but I let my hand drop. I pop the top button on my shirt instead so it’s not so tight.

“I’m fine. Just needed a minute.” He looks at his wrist where he’d normally have a watch. “I need to finish packing and get out of here. If you want to come with me…”

He leaves the words hanging, allowing me time to insert an answer.

“Yes. I do.”

With a firm nod, he walks past me again.

“Then let’s get shit done and leave this fucking place behind.”

*****

Charles packed little that wasn’t personal property. Which was good because he had a lot of stuff. After we shoved it all in his very swanky Escalade, I got a lecture on how it wasn’t his choice for a vehicle. Apparently it was a very generous gift from the diocese for his tireless efforts to build the faith.

He used air quotes and a snarky tone. I’m sure there’s more to it than that, but it’s what we have to drive.

Charles pulls his very nice Cadillac to a stop in front of the sleaziest motel I've ever seen. The light is out above the entrance and there’s a crack in the glass by the door. The parking lot appears to be around the side of the building and there’s one small yellow safety lamp glowing. The building next door has boards over the windows and doors as well.

I come from the suburbs of Hell, and this place gives me the creeps.

"You want to stay here tonight? You sure?"

I'm even worried about my safety. Broken street lights and shadows move in the depths. With a car like this, it's likely to be stripped the moment we go inside. Possibly sooner.

"I don't want to spend all my money right away and I don't know where else to go."

"Charles, the Walmart parking lot is better than this."

Movement from the corner of my eye sends the hairs on my neck up.

"Do as I say. Turn the key and get us out of here before you no longer have a vehicle."

When the car roars back to life, the headlights flood what I expected. Looters, likely gang members, were waiting to pounce and the glint of metal from the closest one sends my pulse into overdrive. Charles won’t be safe here.

Charles squeaks but mercifully has the sense to gun the SUV and peel out of the parking lot before we become a crime statistic. He drives until we're back onto the main streets and no longer in the city’s underbelly. While that motel was a place I would belong to as a demon, now that I've broken rules, I'm not sure if that's still the case. But one thing for sure is it’s no place for Charles.

Finally, he pulls into a Walmart parking lot and rests his head on the headrest.

"I chose that place because a parishioner told me it was owned by their family. It was a safe place, I thought. They're good people."

"You sure about that? Even I didn't feel safe there."

“I'm not sure of anything anymore.” He rubs the bridge of his nose. “Seems like nobody is who they say they are.”

"I know a guy… well, my dad sent me the name of someone I could ask for help. I'll call him."

"Do you trust your dad? What if this guy is just a setup for you to fail?"

While the thought has already crossed my mind, I don't believe my dad would do that. If he truly wanted me to suffer, he would have already done it. In his own way, he's being kind to his son while keeping his bad ass image alive. I respect that and see my dad in a new light now.

Besides, can I fail any worse than I am now? I already care about what happens to Charles. That’s the single worst thing to happen to a guy like me. And by guy, I mean demon. We don’t care about anyone other than ourselves and a few demons in our family. This whole thing isn’t right.

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