Page 35 of Sinful Crimes for the Artistically Inclined
James nodded.
“You remain here for one hour. One full hour while we leave?—”
“Cocktails,” said Percy.
“Okay… You remain here for… four?”
“Five.”
“You remain here for five hours.”
“Six would be better.”
“Five. And,” Joe looked to Percy, “is there a bathroom here or something?”
“I haven’t a clue.” Percy shrugged. “There’s the baptismal font?”
“Percy!”
“Or a chalice?”
Joe passed an exasperated hand over his brow, then looked back at James. “You can use the parking lot if you need to. But don’t let anyone see you. You lock the church up, you hide out for five hours, and you think about what you’ve done.” James looked around fearfully at the six dead bodies. “And then I’ll absolve you,” Joe added hastily, watching him.
“Could I maybe hide somewhere else for five hours?” James asked.
Percy sighed and made his way towards the money. “Don’t argue with the man, James. Do it, or I’ll find you and kill you.”
Joe shrugged apologetically. “There’s only so much I can do.”
Percy kicked the once-ugly man off his money bags, congratulating himself on a job well done because, arguably, the man looked better without a face. He zipped that bag closed, picked up the other, and brought them both down the aisle, dumping them by Joe’s feet. “I’m going to need you to carry one.”
“How far?” Joe winced, wondering at the muscles beneath Percy’s suit that had no doubt been flexing beautifully as he carried both of the heavy bags.
“Not far. My associates are outside,” Percy lied. “I’ll give it to them to deliver, and we’ll have a man watch the place for James in case he tries to leave. Five hours.”
James paled but agreed, finally moving from the floor to the pew to sit.
“You should probably kneel,” Percy said.
James looked up at Joe, who nodded, so hedropped back to the floor and Percy picked up a bag of money and motioned for Joe to do the same and follow him. He pulled the heavy door open for Joe and they walked away from the bloody scene.
“Fuck… Your face,” Joe said as the full sunlight hit Percy.
Percy lifted his bag a little higher over his shoulder, flinching at the pain in just about every part of his body that he didn’t want to reveal to Joe. “Am I still handsome?”
He was. His lip was split in just the right spot, as was his eyebrow, not the one with the scar. He had another cut and a growing bruise darkening his sharp right cheekbone. His dark hair was still damp from his makeshift baptism, and there was something about the way he had to twist his mouth slightly to avoid some pain when he smiled, which he did a lot whenever he was with Joe. Percy’s loose-hanging shirt showed a good portion of his chest from Joe’s perspective, walking by his side.
“What?” Percy smiled.
Joe laughed. “You know what.”
“Shit.” Percy dropped his bag to the ground. “I forgot the picture.”
“You forgot it?”
He had already started back down the street. “I’ll run. Mind the cash.”
“What? For how long?”
