Page 33 of That Sik Luv

Bishop Caldwell clears his throat as he simply adjusts his cassock over his legs.

“Miss Strait,” he begins, walking back around his desk and taking a seat behind it as if nothing happened. “Knocking is a requirement here at the Covenant Academy. Disrupting lessons is worthy of discipline. Now, what can I do for you?”

Still stunned by the visual, I’m unable to form words.

“Y-you...” I stutter. “W-what was that? What was happening?” I point to the spot where he had that young boy sitting before him, his pants open.

He tips his head to the side, his deep-barreled chest releasing a heavy sigh, his deep-set wrinkles and slicked-back black hair that’s peppered with gray, making him look worse for wear. “What was what?”

“I just saw you—”

“You saw me assisting a child of God, Briony,” he interrupts, leaning back in his chair, adjusting the sash over his swollen stomach, filled with the unhealthy diet of a celibate man. He stares at me with a defiant gaze. “Now, I’ll ask again, what can I do for you?”

He’s really about to blow over this as if it’s nothing. As if my eyes deceived me, when I know for a fact they didn’t. He raises a brow, like he can hear my thoughts. His face slips into an expression far too readable. Those thin lips roll into his mouth and his eyes narrow. A look far too knowing.No one will believe you.

“Y-you needed to see me?” I ask, confused as to why he keeps asking what he can do for me when this meeting was at his request. “That’s why I was here.”

His brows lower, face set to a frown, before he sits forward in his chair, peering at a notebook on his desk. Flipping through the pages, the light shines on the crucifix of his black rosary, making my stomach churn in disgust. He shakes his head as his forehead wrinkles.

I never had a meeting with him.

This was all Aero’s doing.

The walls are caving in, and darkness threatens to consume me entirely. I’m overwhelmed with the revelation, terrified of the man before me, who I’ve trusted for years. I’ve put all of my time, energy, and passion into an institution I believed in. A faith I’d follow to the end. Led none other than a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Everything is a lie.

Before I realize what’s happening, I feel my feet moving beneath me as I slowly stumble back out of the room.

I hear him call my name, but I’m already running.

Pushing through the office doors, I spill into the hallway filled with students leaving for the day, tripping onto my knees. Scrambling up, I hear him call my name again as tears fall from my eyes.

It’s all a lie.

I turn away from the onlooking students, running down the empty conjoined hallway, when a hand slaps over my mouth and I’m pulled back abruptly. Feeling myself fall back into a dark closet, I scream against the hand. I attempt to escape the hold when I feel a hard body seal to the back of mine.

“Shhh...calm down, Briony!” I hear the familiar tone.

The voice of the man who set me up.

I lose my battle with my emotions and begin sobbing against his hand. He pulls me tighter to his front, his voice in my ear.

“Stop it! Stop fucking crying!” he demands, wrapping his other arm around my waist, holding me even tighter against him.

I try to reign in my emotions when I hear Bishop Caldwell in the hallway, asking someone if they’ve seen me. The voices slowly fade as they walk away from the supply closet we are currently hidden in.

“Stop being a weak bitch, Briony,” Aero growls in my ear. “It was about time you joined the real world with the rest of us.”

I take in a shaky breath through my nostrils, calming myself against his hand. After I do, he finally drops his hands, turning me by my upper arms to face him. His first mistake.

I visualize the outline of his frame towering above me in the dark space and take the opportunity and slap him across the face.

The face that’s not masked.

I realize it when I feel the warmth of his cheek against the sting of my palm, the sharp sound of the slap echoing in the tight room.

Gasping, I feel behind me for a light switch. I need to see him. Before I can do much more than touch the wall, he grabs my wrists tightly in his hands, pushing my back against what feels like metal lockers behind me. He holds my wrists above my head, pressing his hips against mine, pinning me in place. A position that is all too familiar.

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