Page 131 of The Sinner and the Priest: Part Two

Go directly to Jail. Do NOT pass Go. Do NOT collect $200.

OR ELSE.

By order of the Peaky Blinders.

I groan and slap my face. Zeke’s been watching too much television with them, and we’ve clearly had too many game nights. But it’s helped keep them entertained, and their minds off Raven.

And it’s kind of funny.

I’m still giggling about their new sense of humor when I’m closing in on the church, basket in tow. Before I open the big, heavy door, I take a moment to fix my headscarf, adjust my cleavage, and smooth down the nonexistent crinkles in my new jeans.

At first, when I lost my hair, I was unbothered. All I cared about was being alive with Cisco, and my family was virtually in one piece. Losing Raven was, and still is, our priority.

But now that a few weeks have passed, and even with the faster-than-normal regrowth, I’m feeling awkward. It’s stupid. I’ve never felt self-conscious. Ever.

But I’ve never been bald before.

And I’ve never had someone as hot and amazing as Cisco fall in love with the perfect-looking version of me, then stay with me on the less-than-perfect days. Nerves riot in my stomach, and I check inside the basket to make sure the gift I bought him hasn’t miraculously disappeared.

Nope. There it is—a mini olive oil bottle, prefilled and ready to be used on the—ahem—salad. I smile, close the lid, and reach for the door handle.

It opens before I get there, and Dominic storms out. No acknowledgment. Not even a backward glance as he stalks down the path toward the abbey’s main building.

His shoulders are hunched and a little bony beneath the thin t-shirt. His sweatpants hang on his hips. I’m sure I glimpsed dark circles under his eyes. He’s lost weight and probably isn’t sleeping either.

I’m not sure how much time he and Raven spent together while I was in Rome with Cisco, but I didn’t think it was that much. They never banged as far as I knew. But it seems the two of them have connected on a deeper level already, but Dominic is tight-lipped about everything unless it’s about a plan to save Raven.

“Soon,” I tell myself with a heavy sigh, and enter the church.

My heels click loudly on the floorboards, drawing Cisco’s attention from where he sits on the front pew before the altar. His sandy blond hair is already back to its old length, trimmed, combed, and perfect for running my fingers through. His scowl evaporates upon seeing me, and he raises his hand in a half wave. I wave back, quickly glance around to see if we’re alone, and then secretly lock the door after confirming.

If anyone needs to come in, I’ll take the blame for closing.

But Cisco is a popular man during an apocalypse. Over the past three weeks, I’ve shared him with everyone else, almost every minute of the day, until he collapsed into our tiny, two-cots-shoved-together bed.

Because he’s watching, I dip two fingers into the holy water font by the door, touch them to my lips, and salute the big guy on his crucifix hanging on the wall at the front of the church. It’s not the Sign of the Cross, but that reminds me too much of Cisco’s family. And since my faith has kinda, sorta, been a little restored after the relic purged Cisco’s curse, I figure I owe him a chance.

I’m also a good girl and genuflect before the tabernacle when I cross to Cisco at the front pew.

His warm brown eyes are full of sardonic humor when I sit gracefully beside him, cross my legs, and put the basket on the floor. I lean in to kiss him demurely on the cheek. When I ease back, I catch him averting his gaze from my cleavage.

Target locked. Weapons deployed.

“And how was your day, darling Padre?”

I expect him to flirt, comment about my outfit or the basket, but he frowns and faces the altar, wringing his hands. Tension is evident in the tight lines of his black-clad shoulders.

“Is it Dominic?” I ask, remembering who left as I arrived.

He sighs heavily through his nose. “Sì. But also—” His frown deepens, then he clears his throat, and his expression relaxes. He forces a smile and nods at the basket. “You found it.”

My eyes narrow as I recall the private car to the abbey, and wonder if that added to his worries. He’s still waiting on an official offer from the Pope. What if it isn’t what we thought? What if they refuse to let Cisco remain a priest and to keep me too?

After Raven was taken to Hell, he confessed to me that he felt helpless without his dark side and how ashamed he was that he froze. He vowed to learn more about how to be a better priest and exorcist.

But I don’t push him for answers. I might have spent the entire day having a break and enjoying myself. Cisco’s not taken a moment for himself.

I smile and touch the wicker basket. “I caught the orphans midway through planting the clues, but don’t worry, I pretended I didn’t and walked straight out.”