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I opened the door and stepped out, stretching after such a long period of sitting.
“Do you know that woman, Zepherin?”
I spun, finally spotting Byron sitting in the back pew, eyes trained on the altar.
“Which woman?”
He folded his arms over his chest. “The redhead who was just inside your booth for over thirty minutes.”
There was something off about him that made me wary. “I didn’t time her, Father. I listened as long as she needed.”
He stood and crossed the church to stand in front of me. “And just what did she confess? A woman like her, it’s not surprising she had a whole list.”
I narrowed my eyes at the older man. “It’s not our place to judge. We’re all sinners.”
The man’s gaze flickered all over me. “Indeed, we are. But you didn’t answer my question, so I’ll ask again. Do you know her?”
“She’s the parent of a child in the daycare.”
He stroked the stubble growing across his jaw. “I see. And her confession was about…?”
“That’s confidential. You know that.”
He laughed suddenly, clearly trying to lighten the mood, and slapped me on the arm. “Just hoping for a bit of entertainment, Zeph. Nothing more. If you don’t want to share, no problem. She’s got a look about her that made me think she might have something interesting to say. Shame she didn’t come into my booth.”
I watched him walk away and ground my molars to keep from calling after him. I didn’t like he’d noticed her. Singled her out. His interest in her sent a creeping sensation down my spine. It was the same feeling I’d gotten the night I’d stopped that man from following her home from the club. A man about the same build and shape as Father Byron.
I cursed myself again for not just revealing the man’s face at the time. I couldn’t confront him without being sure. If I were wrong, explaining why I’d been following a stripper home from work wouldn’t be easy. It would draw attention to me, and worse, to Lyric. I didn’t want to ask Lyric for fear of bringing up a memory she’d rather forget. And maybe a part of me didn’t want to know. If Byron had been the one following her, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop myself from making sure he never did again. How many men was I willing to kill? The other two had been easy enough, the proof solid, and I hadn’t felt an ounce of remorse since.
But I knew Byron better. He’d taken me in when everyone else had turned their backs. He’d been a father figure to me when my own was too embarrassed to even be seen with me. The rumors that had circulated about Annie and me had left no stone unturned, and my father’s golf club hadn’t been spared.
My head was already so full of doubts and confusion. I’d picked a path for my life and now I was detouring wildly off it. The easy out would be to quit the priesthood. But what if things didn’t work out with Lyric? I didn’t know if I could handle what she was offering. I wasn’t sure I even deserved to try, and yet I didn’t know how to say no either. Wasn’t this thing we were going to try better than watching her from a distance? I’d spent monthsstalkingthe woman, for Christ’s sake. I was pretty sure that wasn’t in the church guidebook. I’d broken so many rules, but I couldn’t just leave. I didn’t even know what I’d do on the outside. If I walked out now, I’d have no house. No job. No income. My parents would be ashamed; I couldn’t go back to them. Lyric would be sympathetic, but I couldn’t ask to sleep on her couch, she already had enough on.
No matter which way I looked at it, I couldn’t see a way to leave. I had no college education. No money in the bank. From where I stood now, everything about the church felt like a trap, all designed to keep me here, to keep me quiet and obedient.
They were things I could work out, but only with time.
Until then, I needed to watch what I said. What I did. And who I trusted.
Frustration rose inside me. It was a constant state of being these days, one only relieved when I was around Lyric. The urge to find her was overwhelming, even though she’d only just left. She was a drug, and every hit of her only made me crave her more.
But there was once another way I’d dealt with these feelings.
Maybe a slightly less psychotic way than stalking a woman.
I got changed and grabbed my keys from my house and got in my car. I steered my way into Saint View, parking outside a place I’d once known well. Saint View Tattoo had been my first stop after I’d turned eighteen. But that had been a long time ago, so it wasn’t surprising that when I walked in, I didn’t recognize any of the guys working behind the counter.
“Got an appointment, bro?” one of them called out, glancing up from the calf he was working on. His tattoo gun was clutched between the fingers of his left hand. His gaze dropped to my collar, and I instantly wished I’d thought to not wear it. I didn’t want to draw attention.
I shook my head. “Spur-of-the-moment thing.” I wrung my fingers. “I really want to do this now. Please.”
He gave me a slow nod. “Gotcha. We’re pretty booked up, but if you hold your jets a minute—” He shoved his stool so it went sliding along the tiled floor. “Dax! There’s a walk-in if you want to stick him in place of that cancellation you had.”
Dax stuck his head out from a room off to one side. “Whatcha want done?”
I didn’t care. I just wanted the pain. Something to focus my brain. “Whatever you want.”
Dax raised an eyebrow in interest. “Yeah? For real? You aren’t gonna make me do another fucking Koi fish or something?”
