Page 87 of Invisible Bars
Reverend Ellis hesitated for a fraction of a second before lowering himself into the chair, his movements tentative. He adjusted his collar nervously, the starched fabric crinkling under his fingers, and behind the thin-rimmed glasses perched on hisnose, I caught the flicker of anxiety. Although I wasn’t facing him directly, I could still see his movements out of the corner of my eye… and that was enough.
“So… wh-what are you seeking today, son? A confession? You’d like to join the church? Maybe looking to invest?” he chuckled nervously, wiping a bead of sweat that didn’t even have time to form yet.
I turned my head fully then and glared at him long enough to make him realize how dumb his last question was. Then I returned my focus back to the window, watching the rain trail slow patterns against the glass, mirroring the turmoil of my thoughts.
“None of that…especiallythe last part. I want you to be my officiant.”
“Oh! Well, we didn’t need an actualmeetingfor that,” he said, his tone too damn chipper for the weight of what was about to be asked. “I’d love to. I must ask—who’s the lucky lady?”
I finally gave him my undivided attention. My stare sliced through his excitement.
“This won’t be a normal or romantic proceeding,” I stated flatly, cutting the mood in half. “The marriage will be one more of… convenience.”
That word alone had his face falling like a curtain call.
“O-Okay! Confidentiality is part of the?—”
“No!” I snapped, taking a slow step closer. “See, confidentiality is for lawyers and doctors. This marriage isneverto get spoken of to the public—unlessI’mthe one doing the speaking. So this isn’t to be mentioned in one of your sermons, barbershop gossip, one of your drunken stories with your poker crew, and sure as hell not in some bedtime tale to your grandkids about the ‘strangest wedding’ you ever officiated. Whatever happens on that day, dies with that day. You understand?”
“I… I guess.”
I snickered. “You guess?”
I placed a manila folder on the desk and slid it toward him.
Inside was a photograph of the reverend’s wife walking their dog. Another one was of his son exiting school. The final one—blurry, but unmistakable—of the reverend himself speaking to police during an old neighborhood drug raid.
He stared down at the images, his face paling by the second.
“You’ve… done your homework,” he whispered.
“I don’t assign tasks I don’t already know the answers to,” I quipped. “Now here’s what’s going to happen. In a few days, you’ll meet me at a private location. Spur of the moment? Yes. And you won’t ask why. My driver will pick you up—no questions, no delays. You won’t know the location we’ll be at because you’ll be blindfolded to and from the destination.”
He opened his mouth, but I kept going.
“Youwillmarry me and the woman standing beside me. No extra words. No small talk. You will not ask her questions. You will not look at her funny when she twitches or blurts something out crazy. Be prepared for her to cuss you out… maybe. You will act like it’s the most normal thing you’ve ever seen in your church life.”
His lips parted, but I cut him a look that locked his throat.
“There will beoneset of paperwork—legit and final—and it will be signed on the day. No copies. I keep the original. That means no trails, no backups, no ‘accidents’ at the courthouse.”
I leaned in, voice low and final.
“And when it’s done…” I said, rising to my full height, “You’ll forget you ever laid eyes on either of us. You don’t so much as hum ahymnabout it afterward. You’ll go back to baptizing sinners and babies, blessing bread, and preaching watered-down sermons that keep your lights on. And you’ll pray—every damn night—that I never have a reason to contact you again.”
“This… this isn’t legal,” the reverend stammered, his voice cracking like old wood.
Bold of him, really.Audacious,considering everything I’d just laid out.
I took a slow step toward him. My smile was small… dangerous.
“It is if I say it is. But neither was that cash donation your church received last year from a shell company tied to a liquor front. Want to test how far ‘legal’ can stretch today, Reverend?” I asked calmly, my eyes never leaving his.
His eyes were wide with astonishment and fear.
“I didn’t think so. I also didn’t come here to discuss law; I came here to discuss obedience…quietobedience.”
A silence settled so thick the clock on the wall sounded like thunder with every tick.
