Page 25 of Of Sinners & Salvation
“Then maybe he doesn’t find out,” I say, glowering at him before turning to the window.
My fuse isn’t usually that short, but losing M has pushed me over the edge. I’m not myself without her, not in control of what I do and say. Part of me knows that if we don’t find her, or if they killed her, I won’t make it through that. I’ll do something stupid and reckless like I just did, like I did at Zephyr’s, and I’ll end up dead or doing life behind bars. I won’t care, though. There’s nothing to look forward to but a grave if Mercy is already in one.
An hour or so later, the body on the seat behind me starts to groan and gurgle. It’s a horrible sound, like a man dying slowly.
“Jesus, what did you do to him?” Heath asks from the back, where he’s cozied up with Saint. I’ve tried to give them privacy, since they seem to have finally broken the seal on that at the worst possible time, so I’m still in the passenger seat next to Dante.
“I just hit him a few times,” I say, but my stomach twists up with guilt.
“Think he’ll make it?” Saint asks. “It wouldn’t look good if we got pulled over and they found a dead man in the van.”
“No one’s going to pull over a church van,” Father Salvatore says.
“Yeah,” I agree. “Good call on that. And hey, at least we got a priest here to read him his Last Rites if he kicks the bucket.”
Walker groans again.
“Maybe we should drop him at an ER and dip,” Saint says.
“I got some pain pills,” Heath says. “Hate to waste the good stuff, but dude sounds like he’s on death’s doorstep.”
He gets up from the back seat and comes forward, scooting onto the seat next to Walker.
“Hey, buddy,” he says, his voice quiet. “I got something here. It’ll take the edge right off that headache you got. Think you can sit up and swallow it?”
“Fuck you,” Walker mutters.
“Guess he’s alive after all,” I say. “You can stop acting like I kicked a puppy.”
“You’re gonna be alright,” Heath says to him. “Here you go. Here’s some water. Just drink that down, okay?”
I hear the gurgling sound of Walker drinking, and then his labored breathing.
“See, you did it,” Heath says. “Good job, bud. You’re going to be just fine. Probably just a broken nose, maybe a few fractures in that eye socket. Nothing we haven’t all run into a time or two. Am I right or am I right?”
Walker lets out a ragged wheeze.
Heath goes on like he’s talking to a fully conscious man. “You’ll even get a cool scar in your scalp where that glass cut you, so you can show it off when you tell chicks you got jumped by a gangster on the side of the road in New York. Bet you’ll get some mileage out of that one. Girls eat that shit up.”
By the time he’s done yapping, Walker has stopped moaning and fallen asleep again.
“Thanks,” I mutter grudgingly. I’m glad he and Saint have each other right now, but it also fucking sucks being alone in my misery.
“We better find Mercy soon,” Heath says. “If you don’t get your dick sucked soon, you’re going to kill one of us.”
“Let’s avoid that,” Dante says. “And that includes our hostage. We brought him along because we might need him, not to use as a punching bag.”
“I know that, okay?” I snap. “He’s not the man I wanted to hit. The men I want to kill. But their blood runs in his veins, and that was as close as I could get, so I took it out on him. I fucked up. Happy now?”
“I won’t be happy until she’s ours again,” he says quietly, and I realize I’m not alone in my grief. Father Salvatore’s even more alone than I am, and since misery loves company, that makes me feel a little less alone. At least when we find her, she’ll run to me. She’ll be mine again. All he can do is watch it happen.
nine
The Merciless
“I have a confession,” I say, sliding onto the edge of the exam table in Dr. Augustine’s office. My heart squeezes at the memory of all those days in the confessional, telling my deepest shames and sins to Father Salvatore. Will I ever see him again?
I have to. I won’t entertain another possibility. I will get out of here, will find my way back to him. To all of them.
