Page 5 of His Solace

From the moment I heard him interrupt the lashing, I realized he was the guy from the other day. The one I heard from behind the chamber door where I was locked for two days. I don’t know what the plans for me that day were, but I know that his man appearing like a dark knight is what saved me. He answered a prayer I didn’t know I offered up, and I’m indebted to him now. I’m forever bound to this man who says he will be my master.

I have no idea what that means, exactly, but I know that all the little hairs on my body stood on end and a thrill raced through my belly when he said it in that gruff tone of his. As I see Sister Jeanne returning with the paperwork he asked for, my heart pounds behind my rib cage. There is far more there than the single sheet of paper Daia and I found while searching through Father Cassio’s office the few times we were brave enough.

Her hand shakes as she reaches out to hand them over to…I wish I knew his name. I bet it’s something formidable. People surely tremble when they realize he’s coming. I know everyone here certainly did when they were interrupted.

“Isabel Brambilla.” His strong voice has me looking up at him. Eating up every word he speaks. I was born on September 29, 2001, which means I just missed my nineteenth birthday. My mother was a drug addict, and I was taken just a few months after I was born. The more this man speaks, the more emotional I get.

Distraught doesn’t even cover it. Confirming I was never wanted and suspecting it are two vastly different feelings as I stare at the sheet of paper he has handed me. Wishing it were saying something else entirely.

I feel sick when I notice him flip to another page that reads bill of sale.

“Cancelled” is stamped across the paper dated when I was four.

And another when I was six.

Four more from when I was nine, eleven, twelve, and fifteen.

“What did you do to me?” The whispered question is filled with horror.

Sold. Sold. Sold. Sold.

I’m a piece of property to them.

“There was a girl here when I was younger. Luna. Did you sell her?” Memories break through. “There were so many children over the years, mostly infants, but were they purchased too?” I can barely choke the words out.

“You stupid girl. I knew you would be the one to ruin everything,” Sister Hildegard hisses at me from the side, her shock now gone.

“Watch your tongue,” the man next to me warns.

“Or what?” Hilde spits back. “You’ll cut it out?” She appears amused.

“Yes,” he vows, and if I weren’t so distressed, I’d laugh at the way her face pales and she sways on her feet.

I can’t believe this is happening. “Why?” is all I can muster to ask. I have a million questions, but truthfully, none of them matter more than this.

“Because”—Father Cassio lifts his chin away from the knife at his throat—“some women don’t deserve to have children. When we find them, we make the choices they can’t. Taking children from unfit mothers is best.” He says this with all the confidence of a man who couldn’t possibly understand how much it could hurt someone. Or doesn’t care.

“I’d like to leave,” I tell my beautiful stranger.

He peruses through a few more pages before settling on one that has me wondering what he’s read as he shoves it in his pocket. “I’ll be back, Father Cassio. I suggest you all be here when I do because you won’t like what happens if you aren’t.” Shoving his knife back into its sheath, he turns me around to walk down the aisle of pews I’ve spent my life worshipping in. “One foot in front of the other,” his hushed voice instructs, and I realize I was barely moving.

As we step outside, I feel like I can finally catch my breath. As if I’ve been suffocated my entire life. I had no idea anything like this was happening. When children would be brought here, they were so young, and it was only for a short time. I always believed the church was simply helping those in need. Even though they did everything possible to beat me down.

“What’s your name?” I finally ask.

Pulling open the gate, I pause at the opening. I’ve never left the church grounds before. “Pace Cardarelli.” As I feel his hand on my back, shoving me through the entrance, I spot a cardinal on his chest, the only covering with color. Reaching up, I don’t think about what I’m doing as I trace the beautiful bird. Studious and strong just like him.

“Pace.” He stiffens when I say that, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m touching him or said his name.

“Keep walking.” Our pace quickens, and as I glance behind us, I see Father Cassio and Albert on the sidewalk watching us. The priest is on his phone, and I get a knot in my stomach when I hear tires screeching as a vehicle comes racing down the road behind us. “On here.” Pace lifts me up, sitting me on the front of a motorbike facing him. Before I can ask what to do, he’s got my legs wrapped around his waist and my arms around his chest. “Don’t let go.”

My grip tightens as he starts the bike—the rumble of the engine loud in my ears—and speeds off before anyone can catch up to us. Closing my eyes as he weaves in and out of traffic, up and down streets at an alarming rate, my nails dig into the flesh of his muscled back and my thighs squeeze tighter on his hips.

When we finally come to a stop in a secluded area, my heart is beating out of my chest. Without a word, Pace lifts me with him as he gets off the death trap vehicle. He adjusts his hold so his hands are on my bare bottom, and my eyes pop open and my heart races for an entirely new reason. One I’m not sure I understand.

“What’s happening?” I ask as we enter a stairwell, and he takes the steps three at a time. “You’re very strong.” I don’t know why I say that; it just pops out.

“Cassio will be sending out a couple of purely diabolical guys to find us—though, they won’t—but before they even begin their hunt, I’ll be going back with my list of names and taking them all out.” The explanation is cold.

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