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When I was alone, it might be too easy for me to sink back into old habits, to start hating myself and what I let others do to me.
I didn’t want to go to bed. Sleeping, even though the world was one of night and the hour was late, did not seem appealing. But I could only be awake for so long. Perhaps I needed to force myself.
So, after some quiet deliberation, I slipped my hand into his and let Ezekiel pull me to my feet. Together we walked through the house, and we stopped before the bedroom door. I hesitated, but Ezekiel pulled me inside, drawing me to the bed.
He did not flick on the light, so it was dark. The only light coming in was from the hall, but it was enough to illuminate the space, to show the wrinkled sheets and the chair resting beside the bed.
Ezekiel said nothing about it, not even as he let go of my hand to move the chair aside. He helped me crawl under the covers, and then he pulled the sheets over me, his affectless demeanor calming instead of unsettling.
He smoothed my hair around my face, leaning over the bed, shadows dancing across his features. “Goodnight, Giselle.” He did not bend to kiss me, nor did he linger; it wasn’t his way. He simply pulled himself off me and went for the door.
He walked out into the hall, in the process of shutting it behind him, when I called out for him, “Wait.” Ezekiel froze instantly. “Could you… could you stay with me tonight? For a little bit, at least? You don’t have to stay till morning—”
Oh, God. What was I saying? Rambling had never sounded stupider.
Ezekiel’s answer was him stepping back inside the room and gently closing the door, blocking out the light in the hall. He returned to the bed, his voice low as he spoke, “Of course I will stay with you, if that is what you wish. There’s no mass in the morning, so I’m yours however long you want me.”
My heart constricted when he said it, and I scooted aside to give him room on the bed. Through the darkness, I watched as he slipped off his shoes before climbing in. He got under the covers with me, and before I knew what I was doing, I was leaning into him, against his chest, letting him wrap his arms around me and hold me to him.
For a minute or two, we did nothing more than breathe in unison. His warmth still managed to find me through his clothes, seeping into me and giving me strength.
“I’m sorry about Father Charlie,” he whispered.
“Do you think he knew when he found out who my mother was? Do you think he knew I was his… his daughter?” I didn’t know what would be worse: if he’d known straight away, that very first night he’d saved my life, or if he found out after. Or maybe… maybe he’d never truly known.
Ezekiel breathed deep. “I believe he knew whatever he was meant to. Even though he was taken from you too soon, a part of him still lives on inside you. You are a testament to him. To his sins, but also to his faith and his compassion.”
I sighed. “I think I get why people like your church so much. You always know the right thing to say.”
“That’s not true.”
I pulled my head off his chest, resting it on the pillow beside his. We lay so close, our noses touched. “Of course it’s true. It is for me. You always know what to say to make me feel better.”
His hand smoothed down my hair after that, the gesture so gentle and slow I had to close my eyes and sigh. “I’m glad you think so. I find myself at a loss for words more often than not when I’m in your presence, and lately…”
“Lately what?”
“Lately,” Ezekiel’s voice came out low and hushed, “your altar is the only one I want to worship.”
I shivered against him, even though I was beneath the covers, fully clothed, with his heat flooding into me as we cuddled together. If that wasn’t a declaration of love, I didn’t know what was… but maybe a psychopath who dismembered people without blinking couldn’t love.
Or maybe they could, just in their own way. After all, who was I to judge this man when I had sins of my own?
“Your altar is the only one I want to fall to my knees before,” he continued, and his body shifted beneath the sheets, pressing against me harder in certain places. The hand that had smoothed down my hair fell to my lower back, and he held me tightly against him. “I knew from the first moment I met you that you would be my greatest temptation, my greatest sin.”
Anything smart I could’ve said in response to that never surfaced, because Ezekiel went on, “You are my God now, Giselle. I will do whatever it takes to make sure you’re safe. I will burn the whole city down if you want me to. Anything, everything… you have me utterly and completely.”
I moved a hand, resting it against his chest. He’d rolled onto his side, mimicking me, our bodies so snug together beneath the sheets he was all I could feel. The only thing I could say to that was his name, whispered in a soft breath, “Ezekiel.”
Maybe it was the darkness, or maybe it was due to what he’d just said, but something came over me right then, an invisible force guiding me to action. I inched my face toward his on the pillow and found his mouth, pressing my lips against his. Unsure at first, but the moment my lips brushed against his, he met my desperateness with his own.
The hand curled around my lower back lifted to my face, cupping my lower jaw as I reacquainted myself with Ezekiel’s mouth. Confident and comforting, commanding in the way he took over once I made the first move.
For a priest, he certainly did not shy away from sinning, but you wouldn’t catch me complaining about that.
Let us sin together, then. Let us come together in a union of unholy fate. He was my priest now, and in the darkness of this room, after the day I’d had, I wanted nothing more than to drown in him.
I was broken, but today did not break me. I’d been broken for three years, and here in Cypress I’d started to rebuild, put myself back together. I was stronger now than I was before. I would not let my ex-father win. He would not scar me again. He wouldn’t hurt me again. I would not let him.
