Page 9 of The Sinner and the Gunslinger
Wesley pulls off his spectacles and rubs his eyes. “This is my fault. I should have been honest with them from the start.”
Thea touches his back. “It’s not your fault.”
“The Monsignor is dead because I brought us here. We lied to them. I lied to myself.”
“Sometimes shit happens, Wes,” Zeke says, standing up. “Can’t go beating yourself up about it.”
My scoff is audible. The lie had something to do with him and Wesley manipulating their team to come here. He almost hijacked the relic from Thea, and we all saw her use it on Zeke after they returned to the abbey. But still, none of them are talking. I have no idea what happened.
“Decisions have consequences,” I state, then shift my glare to Wes. “We’re not privy to your reasons for lying to your team, but I hope it was good. Because you’ve clearly lost their trust and have done nothing to gain mine.”
“Leila,” Thea admonishes.
“It’s true,” I reply. “Anyone can see. And I, for one, would like for people to stop lying.”
“I agree,” Mercy says.
“Me too,” Tawny adds.
Raven stays quiet, probably because her psychic gift has given her enough information. She has a habit of keeping valuable thoughts to herself. I used to hate her for it, but she once explained that it’s because half the time, she never knows if her visions will come to pass or remain a dream. I get that. I suppose, what’s the point of adding to the confusion?
But these men... there’s no excuse. They can’t preach about us working together while simultaneously lying to us.
“Sometimes the truth is more painful than the lie,” Zeke mutters. I don’t get a chance to tell him that’s irrelevant bullshit because he lifts his chin to Wesley and says, “It’s about time I speak to them.”
“I’ll come.” Wes gives Thea a loving goodbye kiss on the forehead, then collects his books. “This is my mess too.”
Seven
Zeke
Ileave the classroom with my hands in my pockets, one hand running over the rosary beads Cisco gave me after he baptized me and the other toying with the red charred bracelet.
It feels like two opposite ends of the spectrum. One represents my absolution from all my sins. Another represents the reason.
I thought I could stay here in the abbey and help piece back together the lives of these innocent nuns. After all, this chaos was partly my fault. But I can barely sit in the same room as Leila without falling apart. The guilt is eating me alive.
She’s alive.
Alive.
Not dead. All these years, I’d done a good job of forgetting her. So good that I’d failed to recognize her when I arrived at the Sisterhood. I spent the week mentally berating myself and trying to figure out why. How could I forget someone who made such an important impression on my soul? The only answer I came up with was that I thought she was dead. Ghosts don’t grow up. They remain the same in your mind as the day they died.
My little sister is still that gurgling, baby-powder-smelling child. Lei Ling is still that sweet, innocent girl who sometimes got hives and itched when she worried about making a good impression.
I’d built her into something pure and saintly in my mind—someone so kind and good that there was no equal. But here she was, all grown up, a Sinner—a killer. No trace of the innocent girl exists in her hateful eyes. It’s funny how emotion can change one’s appearance. Anger and hate can turn you hard, even ugly. A smile can make anyone beautiful.
Leila had stewed for a week, thinking that I couldn’t care less about her when the opposite was true... and far more painful to admit. Because I’d failed again. I’d let her down and now there was nowhere to hide.
“Zeke, wait up.”
Wesley’s footsteps quicken behind me, but I walk faster towards the stairs leading down from the archives.
“Zeke.” Wesley grabs my arm a few steps down, and I spin to face him.
It hurts to look into his concerned eyes where my failings live with glaring clarity. All I’ve done my whole life is mess things up. Couldn’t save my sister from the fire demon. Leila is a goddamn assassin now with blood on her hands. Wes lied to Cisco and Dom because of me, and now they don’t trust us. My illness was why Wesley arranged for that gospel to come here and why Thea used her angelic relic on me, but I’m not sure it was worth the cost.
How far can you fall before your feet land on brimstone?
