Page 16 of Remiss
“It’s rude to interrupt prayer,” Rule replied and hid a grin, imagining Freya rolling her blue eyes.
With a little sniff, she retreated to one of the benches, allowing him a moment of solitude. Impossible with the girl’s nearness, but he tried to focus on the Lord’s Prayer.
“Our Father, Who art in Heaven.” Rule’s attention strayed to the girl next to him. “Hallowed be Thy Name. Thy Kingdom come–”
“Amen,” she murmured, finishing her prayer as he was trying to begin his.
She lifted her gaze to him, catching him staring at her, but she simply smiled. Suddenly the words he knew so well died on his lips. Dr. Patricks wanted him to dispel the ‘harmful beliefs’ present about women and girls thanks to his exposure to the club by healthy interactions with the opposite sex. He hadn’t tolerated Rule explaining how well-founded those beliefswere and even claimed his environment and upbringing had put false ideas about the fairer sex in his head. It confused Rule. On one hand, the doctor wanted his opinion of his mother to improve, while implying his parents’ childrearing damaged him. However, despite the contradictory advice, Rule wanted to please the psychiatrist.
His mystery girl made the sign of the cross and then stood. Rule cleared his throat and waved, praying he wouldn’t regret this choice.
“H-hi,” he stammered, cringing internally.
The attitude he’d begun to show at the club and around his family had faded away. Speaking to strangers once again became a challenging feat. Rebel was the extrovert. Rule was not.
The voices had made him bold, and without their constant presence, he was little more than the pansy Ryan bullied. The kid who only had Rebel to depend on.
“Hey,” she replied, her honey brown eyes kind and welcoming. The way Mom and Reb’s blue eyes once had been. “I’m leaving, so the altar’s all yours.”
He shook his head. “Don’t leave on my account.”
“Don’t worry,” she said with an infectious laugh, “I wouldn’t. I’m just not religious enough to chill around altars for fun.”
“You’re religious enough to spend your days here and pray daily,” he pointed out, grasping at straws to continue the conversation.
“Nah, it’s just quiet here,” she countered. “And…my mama and grandmother, they’d make me go to mass every Sunday and for every holiday. I wouldn’t call myself a believer, but prayer brings me comfort. It reminds me of them.”
Her words provided a minuscule glimpse into her personal life. The openness, no matter how small, took him aback and intrigued him. He thought of his mother and sister, his cousinsand the club girls. His resentment against them festered for many reasons, his belief that they were secretive schemers chief among them. Therapy and medication helped combat the dislike but didn’t completely erase it. Now, those thoughts inspired great conflict in Rule yet immediately strengthened his draw toher.
“Sorry,” she said with a giggle, one that sounded forced. “You came here to pray, not for me to hold you up.”
“You aren’t holding me up,” he reassured quickly. “Prayer isn’t coming to me easily today. Conversation is fine.”
She studied him, and he shifted under her scrutiny. After several seconds, she held out her hand. “I’m Bianca.”
He took it gingerly, the handshake brief. “I’m—”
“Rule, I know. The rumor mill doesn’t rest in a looney bin,” she said, confirming his fears. “It’s why I like it in here. Not too many come, so less people can talk shit about you.”
“And what are people saying about me?” he found himself asking, not really wanting to know the answer butwanting to know the answer.
“That you’re a psycho who tried to kill his entire family,” she answered without hesitation. “Ironic, because everyone in here isn’t exactly sane, and you seem pretty all right to me. A bit brooding, but that isn’t a crime.”
No, just off-putting to a lot of people.
Her statement echoed Freya’s sentiments, and he hoped Bianca was as genuine as his caregiver.
“I didn’t try to kill myentirefamily,” he grumbled, his argument weak considering his actual crime.
“I figured it was all made up, since you aren’t in a juvenile forensic psychiatric center. You couldn’t do something so extreme and get away with it.”
He resisted the urge to chuckle. If only she knew. His family was on the ‘wrong side of the law, but it didn’t diminish theirpower. Things that’d ruin a normal person could disappear from the record, or the truth tweaked to prevent a heavy penalty.
Well, heavier than being shipped off to California and locked away for an indefinite period.
“The rumors are overly exaggerated,” he agreed.
His actions were felonious, a horrendous crime and sin, yes, but his victims weren’t as numerous as the rumors claimed.
