Page 21 of Sinning for Santa

“So you’d rather die?” he asks, dark brows raised. “Okay then.”

Flipping on the indicator, Devon veers across four lanes of what would normally be packed with traffic, and speeds up an exit.

“What are you doing?” I stiffen, glancing out the windscreen.

“I’m taking you bush.” He shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “What do you think I’m doing?”

“But…”

Hechuckles darkly. “But nothing, little mouse. The deal was, you confess and you get to live. But since you seem to have so much trouble doing that, then let’s cut the shit and get the killing part over with.”

Oh my God, he can’t be serious. Is he really going to force me to treat him like he’s a father? Like he’s a man of the cloth?

My stomach churns. Unease rushes through my whole body, my palms so sweaty that I need to wipe them over my skirt to dry them off.

At the top of the exit, he pulls the sleek red car to a stop before turning his dark eyes to me.

“So what’s it gonna be, little mouse? Are you going to confess? Or shall we turn left and head to the mountains to find you a nice place to rest for eternity?”

Tears well in my eyes. My chest aching from the fear racing my heart at knowing I have to do this. I have to tell him.

“Fine,” I snap, waving my hand in the direction of the freeway we just exited. “I’ll tell you. I’ll confess.”

“Atta girl.” He grins, and then plants his foot down on the accelerator and speeds straight through the intersection, and back onto the freeway.

“Don’t even think about making your confession up, little mouse. I’ll know if you’re lying.” He shoots me a warning glare that sends a chill up my spine. “Which is one of the twelve cardinal sins. Don’t forget that.”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, it is. You must have forgotten that murder is also one of the twelve cardinal sins.”

I can’t believe I just said that to a man that has the ability to kill me before I take my next breath. But then the wicked grin he shoots me tells me he’s not at all angry. In fact, he looks damn proud about the fact he murdered someone.

What kind of sick and twisted man is he?

A sick and twisted man that will kill me if I don’t do what he says.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” I start, my voice shaky with embarrassment as he nods in satisfaction. I wantto punch him. I want to dig my nails into his unfortunately attractive face, and tear his flesh from his bones. “It’s been one week since my last confession.”

“One week?” he asks, dragging his gaze from the road momentarily. “Is that all? You seem to be a littlesinner.” He draws the word sinner out like it’s a delectable treat. Like it’s something to be proud of. Like it’s not the bane of my existence.

“Yes.” I nod, trying to ignore his curious gaze. “One week. Can I continue?” I snap, and even though he’s smirking, he nods.

“I went back.” I repeat the words I said to Father Peters, and Devon’s brows shoot up, his dark gaze darting to mine before returning to the road.

“Back where, little mouse?”

“I don’t have to tell you that part. Father Peters already knew.”

Devon chuckles, his teeth flashing briefly as he bites his lower lip.

“Well, Father Devon doesn’t know. So how about you tell me?”

My God, he’s really gonna make me do this, isn’t he?

“I went back to the club,” I rush out, wanting this to be over already.

“What club?”

“Cloud 9,” I admit, and at the mention of one of the city’s most exclusive sex clubs, I risk a glance to see his brows have shot high as his foot lifts off the accelerator, the car slowing before he realises what’s happened.

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