Page 38 of Broken

CHAPTER 15

Savio

Use Somebody - Kings of Leon

Sweat slicks my palms, coating my temples as I dart through the masses of people whose workday has just ended and toward my church.

Vespers calls me home, but how can I carry on as though nothing happened?

Shesaw me.

She saw what I was about to do.

Paolo is only alive because she stopped me.

The second I make it across the river, I find myself braking to a halt. A tourist screeches, “Whoa!” at me, like he thinks I’m going to crash into him, but I’m always aware of my surroundings. Always.

Except where she’s concerned.

I didn’t hearher.

Didn’t feelher.

The hair on the back of my neck didn’t stand on edge at her presence, making me aware she was in the alley with me.

My throat tightens at what that might mean.

I shoot the tourist an apologetic, “Sorry,” before swerving around the irate man, who’s glowering at me like I tried to do to him what I was about to do to Paolo, and head for my church.

I have a service to lead. But she saw me there. She’ll know where I’ll be.

What was she doing in that alleyway?

Will the police come for me?

There’s no proof.

There never is.

She saw me, but it’s my word against hers, isn’t it?

She just had brain surgery. Who are the cops going to believe? Me? A priest? Or a...

I feel guilty even thinking it.

Just because she was sick doesn’t mean she’s addled, or that her wits aren’t there.

I scrub a hand over my face, somehow finding myself in the middle of a crowd yet feeling utterly isolated.

But then, there’s no real difference, I suppose. Aren’t I always alone?

No one sees the real me.

No one wants to.

And even as the melancholic thought crosses my mind, I recognize how things were different when she looked at me after this afternoon’s service.

Somehow, she didn’t see me as a priest.

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