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“So, you’re the priest who’s caused all the trouble, huh?” Vitari’s friend, Sal, grumbled in deep, Italian-accented English.
The sudden switch to English stalled Francis’s wandering thoughts. “I suppose I am.”
“You killed Luca Espinosa?”
He glanced at Vitari—how much should he say?
Vitari nodded and said, “We can trust Sal.”
“I did.” Francis chased that confession with a gulp of whiskey.
“Then you saved Vitari in Venezuela?”
What did this man, this friend of Vitari’s, want from him? “I will always save him. Like he saves me every day.”
Sal narrowed his eyes, trying to get a read on him. He sensed Vitari’s friend perhaps didn’t like him, but Francis hadn’t slept in forever and there was a lot going on, and he didn’t care what this man thought. He’d told him the facts. Sal could take them or leave them.
Vitari gripped Sal’s shoulder, said something in Italian, and then they got to work bundling the two bodies into the back of Sal’s car. Sal made a call, and a little while later, more people arrived. They swept in and cleaned the study, wiping down the floor and walls, then demanded Francis and Vitari hand over their clothes. Which was fine for Vitari, as he had plenty of outfits to wear, but Francis was left—after showering—with trousers an inch too short and a shirt that hung off him. It smelled of Vitari’s woody cologne though, which made all this a little less horrible.
As the sun rose on a new day and car doors slammed outside, Francis couldn’t help but wonder where he fit in with all this, or even if it was real. But he’d stay with Vitari. Vitari was the sun he orbited. He couldn’t escape and didn’t want to.
“Okay, so here’s what’s going to happen…” Vitari swept into the room, then he saw Francis on the end of the bed and hesitated. “This was so much fuckin’ easier to ask in my head.”
“I want to help.”
“I know, I just…” He braced his hands on his hips and huffed. “There’s a meet. A big one. All the capos. I just need to get through it and we’ll be all right. So here’s what we’re going to do.” He pulled a thick strip of white from his pocket. “I had someone go to the local church and uh… borrow this. I need you to be Padre Blanco.”
It was a priest’s collar. Francis frowned at it, a little confused. How would being a priest help them now?
“I’m sorry I have to ask,” Vitari said. “It’s like with the Church, it’s all about the theater. If I show up at the meet with my lover, who happens to be a man, they’ll butcher us. But if I show up with Padre Blanco, the priest who shot Luca Espinosa? It’s a whole different thing. But it’s also not like the Church, because if we take a wrong step, no amount of Hail Marys are going to save us from a bullet to the brain. God, do you fucking hate me for all this?”
“I’ll do it. Absolutely.” He took the collar and stood. “For you. For us.”
“Are you sure?” Vitari winced. “It’s not against your religion or vows or whatever?”
Francis swallowed his laugh. “Are you asking if using my reputation as a priest who kills people will be frowned upon by the Catholic Church? I think that ship has sailed into the horizon and been set upon by pirates.”
Vitari gave a snort. “Fuck, I love you.”
“Can you get a cassock?”
Vitari glanced side-on, clearly suspicious at Francis’s enthusiasm. “I’ll get you anything you need.”
“Good, because after I’ve done this”—he threaded the collar in place and stepped into Vitari’s personal space, right up close, so there was nothing between them but sizzling tension— “you’re going to fuck me while I’m wearing it.”
Vitari’s sly grin ticked.
The thought alone had Francis’s knees going weak and his cock hardening. To be fucked from behind while wearing a cassock was so wrong—so forbidden, blasphemy—but he needed its rawness to scorch his soul, to brand Vitari there, where the church had once been.
It wasn’t often he caught Vitari speechless. Or with a touch of heat in his face. Francis hovered his mouth over Vitari’s and fell into his eyes. “I’m sorry about all those things I said, and for not speaking to you first before calling Giancarlo.”
“Fuck, Francis, don’t apologize. I was wrong about all of it. I should have listened.”
“We’re going to get through today, and tomorrow, and we’re going to survive, because it’s what we do.”
Vitari smiled against Francis’s mouth and stroked up his chest, scrunching his shirt. “What if I fuck you against the wall now, or is this a buy now, pay later deal?”
Francis teased Vitari’s lips apart and slid the tip of his tongue in, going so slow that it hurt to hold back. “Later.”
