Page 10 of Lucian

“Lucian, son?”

Vaguely, he heard Father Peter calling for him from behind, but Lucian didn’t even bother to wave the priest’s concern off. He simply continued his near jog until he was out of sight and smelling the air of New York City.

“Lucian?”

Gio’s deep tenor drew Lucian’s gaze up from his feet, the bright light of the outside blinding him. Why was his family still standing on the front steps of the church?

“That was too quick,” he heard his mother say. “Did something happen?”

“Son?”

“Hey—”

“Gio,” Lucian said, the strain in his throat turning his youngest brother’s name rough and raspy. “Drive me home, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Gio agreed, shrugging. “Sure, man.”

• • •

Jordyn stood on shaky legs, moving the curtain of the confession box out of the way. The priest who had been taking her confession seconds before was standing outside instead of the handsome intruder who was there moments ago.

His eyes—a hazel swirl of emotions—had caught her like a deer in the headlights.

She barely witnessed a glance of a black suit disappearing fast around a corner before he was gone completely.

What had the priest called him? Lucian, was it?

“Miss Reese, I apologize,” the priest said, obviously flustered. “It usually isn’t in one of my parishioner’s nature to interrupt like that. I’m sure Mr. Marcello—”

“It’s okay, I think he apologized,” she interrupted quietly.

She was sure that was what he said before the curtain closed. Or something similar, like excuse me.

“And something else,” Jordyn added, more for her benefit than the priest’s.

Bella, was it?

The man looked at her like he recognized her, then called her Bella.

“Beautiful,” the priest said from her side.

“I’m sorry?”

Father Peter, as he’d introduced himself earlier, smiled. “I heard him, and what he said was beautiful before he excused himself.”

Oh. He thought she was beautiful?

In her profession, it wasn’t unusual. Jordyn was accustomed to men’s leers and even their occasional comments. She didn’t mind, and usually brushed them off so long as they didn’t put their hands on her. She was aware of her good looks, as far as that went, but men mostly described her lewdly as hot, fuckable, or something disgustingly similar.

Not him, though. Beautiful, he said.

Huh.

“I think you surprised him being behind the curtain. He probably expected it to be empty, given the times I usually reserve for confession.”

That was obviously an understatement.

Jordyn waved it all off. “Listen, thank you for offering to speak to me, but I should go.”