Page 19 of Sinful Crimes for the Artistically Inclined
He’d kissed Eve too, the second he found out they might not be related, and that very evening, instead of moping over Joe, he should have been with the pair of them, enjoying a very pleasant threesome, which he’d worked very hard to organise.
He should not have been there, at home, worrying over a beautiful priest.
Percy flopped down on his bed, and as his head hit the pillow, there was Joe. The smell of him, just there. And with it, the memory of his eyes sparkling in the firelight, the memory of his touch, the conversation, the laughter, the memory of Percy’s unaccustomed happiness.
But he couldn't have a boyfriend…
But on the other hand, it was Joe… And an opportunity like that wasn’t likely to come around ever again.
No.
He’d be putting Joe in enormous danger were he to bring him into his life. He’d be setting him up for a miserable let down in the long run. That’s if Joe even managed to survive until the inevitable breakup.
There was no way Percy could start seeing Joe seriously.
It was out of the question.
Never going to happen.
He’d just have to break things off, as gently as possible, before it all got completely out of control.
CHAPTER TEN
RED LIGHT
The next morning, Joe was back at Anna’s apartment. He was still furious with her and never would have gone over there, had it not been Eve who called, begging for his help. And there wasn’t much Joe wouldn’t do for him.
They were supposed to be doing all the planning they were too drunk to do the last time, trying to fix the same supernatural problem. At least it was morning now, coffee and tea only, so he hoped they might finally get somewhere. Well, as much as he could think about it while his mind was plagued with thoughts of Percy.
In all honesty, it hadn’t just been Eve’s request that brought him over. He knew Percy would be there. One call from Anna and he’d come running.
Joe saw, for the thousandth time already, the image of Percy kissing Anna. Only it was worse now that they were… nottogether. Now that they were… whatever they were. Now that he felt Percy washissomehow. More than hers, at any rate. Wasn’t he?
Joe was embarrassed by how long he’d spent staring at hisphone the day before, willing it to ring. Every sound in the courtyard had sent him dashing for the door in the hope Percy had decided to drop by.
But why would he? That’s what boyfriends did, presumably. And Joe was no one’s boyfriend. He was just a man, pouring crisps into a bowl in Anna’s kitchen, hiding from hisfriends again.
It didn’t help that Anna kept looking at him funny. As well she might, the jezebel. His history with Anna was long and checkered, and he didn’t look half as fondly on her as Percy did. He’d been through the wringer, and it was all because she’d decided to do a séance in her haunted apartment that one time…
With a jealous nausea bubbling up inside, Joe’s hand went to the demon-warding symbol Anna had carved intohis chest. A perfect mirror to the one she’d marked Percy with. A strange history, shared but so different. One that made him sick with bitter memories.
It was the same demon who possessed both Joe and Percy. The main difference was the destruction wrought. Percy had murdered his brother and almost murdered Anna. But they were both fine now. Unlike the people Joe had killed.
The night he was possessed, Joe had murdered fifteen people at a local bar. And before that, he’d murdered his adoptive father. The man who took him in when he was an orphaned child. The priest he had lived with and worked with. The man whose job he had taken after he killed him.
At only twenty-four, Joe shouldn't have been a priest yet. But an emergency Church meeting was called after the ‘incident’. An investigation took place, and it was decided not only was Joe innocent, but that he was the man best suited to the position his predecessor had left so violently. The parishioners knew him. Adored him. He knew the area. Knew that dark things were relentlessly attracted to it. And he was prepared to fight them.
Joe was ordained early under those special considerations. His victim’s home became his home. His church became Joe’s church. And every day was a reminder of the things his own hands had done.
And he wanted out.
He desperately wanted to be gone from the town and people and everyone who knew him, who still came to his church to ask for his advice. Who still grieved for the people they had no idea their own priest had murdered.
But where was he to go? He was good for nothing beyond exorcisms and a bit of ghost whispering. And the Church wanted him where he was, long term. Or for as long as he could survive the dangerous position.
He had plenty of holiday leave accrued, but what would be the point? It would end and he’d be right back here.
There was no escape.
