Page 54 of Of Sinners & Salvation
“Father!”
Forgive me.
The hollowness is a gift, a holy ground where no evil can reach me. The place I’ve found inside my mind, one I never let myself go, is bathed in divinity. Now I’m there, and all is calm and still.
I’m sitting in a car parked on the street at night, watching a man walk toward me, illuminated by the glow of the streetlights. He’s a dark silhouette, growing larger and larger, until he’s the whole sky, this darkness shadowing our lives, foreboding as death. My hands clench on the wheel, but my mind is calm and clear. I stare at the face that appearsin the lights, the angles of the cheekbones, the crooked nose. The hollow blackness of the eyes as he looms in front of me, demanding answers, obedience. Always obedience.
Always silence.
Always creeping around the house, fear thrumming in my veins like poison, killing me but feeding the seed of rage he planted in my heart with the seed of my life he planted in my mother, his battered victim and strident defender. I feel my hand close around the gear shift, my foot move from one pedal to the other. The pressure as I bear down, the roar of the engine thrumming through the car and my body, the hum of electricity in my veins, the transcendent clarity and conviction.
The decision afterwards: Never again.
Then Mercy is yanking at me, and at last, I come out of my fugue state and see her staring at me with wide eyes. The man’s body is limp, and blood is splattered over the dark, polished surface in gory droplets like the rain running down the outside of the windowpane.
“Father?” Mercy whispers.
I stumble back, my breath hitching, my heart thudding, bile rising in my throat.
What have I done?
I lost myself in some other place, some place I always knew existed, even when I never let myself go there. I felt like I was next to God, not dancing with the devil.
“Lamb,” I say, my voice unsteady. “You’re okay?”
“Fine,” she says. “Are you?”
“He shot at you,” I say, checking her over. I was so lost in rage I didn’t even check with her.
She nods, looking sheepish. “The bullet hit the wall. I ducked. It was instinct.”
Relief floods through me, but it’s short lived when I see the pool of blood spreading across the polished surface of the desk. I swallow hard. “I—I’m sorry.”
“Is he dead?” she asks, visibly gulping.
“I… I don’t know.”
As we stare at the doctor sprawled there, his limp body begins to slide. Neither of us move as it slowly crumples to the floor. His head thuds like a melon to the carpet. Blood splashes onto the papers around him. I think I might be sick.
“You did that,” Mercy whispers. “For me.”
I don’t say anything. She turns to stare up at me, her eyes huge and shining. Not with fear or disgust. With admiration.
“For me?” she presses.
I nod reluctantly. “He tried to kill you.”
She steps closer, swallowing hard as her gaze skims over my face. “And?” she whispers.
“And?” I ask, blinking a few times to come fully back to the present, to this beautiful temptress blinking up at me with such innocence, seen through the blood specked lenses of my glasses. I clear my throat and avoid her beseeching gaze. “And my job is to protect you. So, I did.”
Without a word, she closes the gap between us, wraps her arms around my neck, and pulls me down. Her lips are on mine before I know what’s happening. They demand an answer, a response. My body gives it eagerly. My lips crash against hers, and a full body shiver rolls through me.
My hands close around her soft hips, and I back her into the desk. When I do, her foot stumbles over the body on the floor, and my mind comes crashing back. Pulling away from her is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
“Lamb,” I say, my voice coming out rough with unspent desire. “I can’t. I took a vow.”
“Priests don’t have to take a vow of celibacy anymore,” she murmurs, staring at my lips like she’s been dreaming of them as long as I’ve been dreaming of hers.
