Page 35 of Cruel Hearts

I turned to Kendrick, whose eyes bulged. “Bloody hell!”

“What?” I turned back to the chapel window to find Mr. Burgh standing over a fallen Father Neapolitan. The old man swung his foot back and booted the priest in the gut, who curled into himself and spasmed.

My mouth fell open. I locked gazes with Kendrick, calculating whether to let my grandfather dole out a justified punishment, when he grabbed my arm and rushed in the direction of the front doors.

By now, most of the children had left the chapel, but that didn’t stop them from hanging around the front doors like a crowd of old ladies shuffling out from a relaxing morning of gossip and tea.

“Wait!” I yanked Kendrick back. “If we barrel through those kids, they’ll follow after us and become witnesses to assault.”

“We’ll approach from the back, then.” He turned on his heel and jogged down the side of the chapel.

I ran to keep up with Kendrick’s pace, my heart clenching at the thought of Mr. Burgh suffering a humiliating arrest. That was the trouble with hot-blooded revenge. The police only cared about the assault under their noses and didn’t give a shit that it was justified.

By the time we bolted through the back door and down the hallway, Father Neapolitan’s whispered pleas of mercy sent tremors of disgust over my skin. In the chapel, Mr. Burgh sat in his usual pew watching over the priest shuddering and crying at the altar.

He glanced up at me, his face stricken. “We agreed you wouldn’t come.”

“I wanted to confront him outside.” I continued toward Mr. Burgh and sat beside him on the pew.

“What’s going on?” asked Kendrick.

“Mr. Deloraine,” rasped Father Neapolitan. “Call Lady Liddell. She must know—”

“What,” I snapped. “That you fell over after drinking too much communion wine?”

He turned toward us, his face streaked with tears. “I conduct a teetotal life of abstinence.”

“All the reason why the wine would go to your head.”

Kendrick glanced from me to the fallen priest, his face a mask of confusion. With a sigh, he offered Father Neapolitan his hand. “Let me help you up.”

The older man slapped it away. “When Lady Liddell hears of this, you and Abigail’s bastard child will be on the street!”

With a snarl, Mr. Burgh shot to his feet and rushed at Father Neapolitan with his fists balled. I stood, not knowing whether I should hold my grandfather back or slam my boot into the crying bastard’s throat.

Kendrick stepped between us with his palms raised. “Sir, please stop.”

They were both of a similar height with Mr. Burgh a little taller than Kendrick, but where my grandfather was lean, Kendrick had the bulk of an athlete. Not that I was checking him out at a time like this… or at any time. Because Kendrick was an asshole. But I’d seen his identical twin in various states of undress and could scientifically assume Kendrick had the same physique. That’s all.

Mr. Burgh deflated. “I need to walk off this anger before returning home.”

I swallowed hard. “Alright.”

Mr. Burgh walked out through the back entrance.

As soon as the door slammed shut, Father Neapolitan scrambled to his feet. He clutched a handkerchief to his nose and glared at me through watery, blue eyes. “The headmaster was always a man beset by demons, but his mental state has deteriorated since you darkened his door.”

Frowning, Kendrick glanced from the priest to me.

I clenched my teeth. “We have enough evidence to ruin you.”

“What?” Father Neapolitan stepped back.

“Worthless prick.” I jerked forward, making Father Neapolitan flinch. It was a stupid, childish move used by ten-year-old playground bullies, but the sight of his fear gave me a taste of the satisfaction to come.

Raising my head high, I spun on my heel and walked through the back of the chapel and out into the winter morning. Icy wind blew strands of platinum hair into my face. I raised my hood, fastened my top button, and walked down the side of the track, past Father Neapolitan’s Matrix car.

My fingers itched to run a key down the side of its sleek, black bodywork. Instead, I stuffed my hands in my pockets, not wanting to give the asshole another reason to get me into trouble.