Page 14 of Sinning for Santa

Theyareabove the law.

Maybe the Godfather scene wasn’t that far off from what is happening here.

I clear my throat, the lump forming seeming to get bigger with every breath I take.

Turning, I study Father Peters, taking in how tired his ageing eyes seem in comparison to when I first arrived earlier.

“Are youhurt, Father?”

He waves me off, “No. No. Nothing but a small bump on the head. I’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about.”

I swallow thickly. “I thought you said I don’t need to fear him.”

“And you don’t. That is not what I’m worried about.” He leans in closer. “It’s your struggles with temptation that have me concerned.”

My cheeks heat. “I don’t think we need to worry about that right now.” I dismiss his concerns in the hope he’ll drop it.

I know it’s him I confess to in the booth, but it’s easier to do it that way so I don’t have to see his face. This, right here, being face to face is too confrontational for my liking.

“On the contrary, Miss Summers, I’ve been watching the way you and Mr Marx look at each other.”

Oh my fuckety fuck.

It’s that obvious?

Kill me now.

“Father, you remember Riggs?” Devon’s voice breaks our little bubble, and I’m actually grateful this time for his interruption.

“Of course.” Father Peters stands politely.

“I’ll get my team to install new cameras and security measures in the morning, Father,” Riggs, the black clad military man explains. “In the meantime, I’ll leave a team of four men to stay on the property tonight.” He hands Father Peters a card. “Call me if you have any concerns.”

“Bless you, Mr Riggs.” Father Peters bows his head in thanks.

“We’ll help your men get the Range Rovers back to one of our workshops to go over with a fine tooth comb.” Riggs explains as he turns his attention to Devon who nods.

“Excellent. I need to go. How likely is it that Connie will loan me one of his Corvettes across the street?”

Riggs smirks. “Well, he’s right into Christmas, so maybe use that shit as an excuse when you drop to your knees and beg.”

Devon scoffs. “I don’t fall to my knees for anyone.”

And hell, I believe him. I can’t imagine anyone would have the power to make him do that.

The men walk off, having a discussion about cars, and Father Peters gets led away with discussions of security, leaving me alone on the pew.

Glancing around, I notice everyone is busy. No one is paying me a lick of attention. Maybe if I slip my heels off, I can discreetly disappear before anyone notices.

Devon has my licence which has my address on it, but I still have my handbag. I have enough cash to pay for a hotel for the night, and then tomorrow, maybe I can go to my sister’s until I can figure out what to do.

With a somewhat sketchy plan in my head, I subtly lean to the side, reaching down to slip off one of my heels, before doing the same with the other. Just the thought of trying to run again has my heart thundering in my chest, my pulse so loud in my ears that all noise from inside the church gets muffled.

You can do this.

I glance around again, still noticing everyone busy and preoccupied.

Just go, Jaxcen!

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