Page 77 of The Sinner and the Priest: Part 1

Moving his hands to my shoulders, he pushes me forward and walks behind me. The wall of heat behind me is distracting. It short-circuits my brain. That’s the only reason why I don’t walk away.

We enter the pool room and are hit with warm, thick air and the scent of chlorine. The orphans are taking turns jumping into the deep end of the Olympic-sized swimming pool, supervised by Leila, Thea, and Tawny. Wesley is there but has his nose in a book.

A smile tugs at my lips.

Someone found Speedos that fit, probably ones we grew out of years ago. Everything gets a second life here, even our clothes.

My brows drop when I see Thea’s shoulder bandage, and I remember that she should be resting. Tawny swings her red-rimmed gaze my way. Shit.

“Babe,” I whisper, and try to go to her.

“No more excuses.” Cisco’s grip firms. He guides me to the opposite side of the pool, where a floating board is bobbing aimlessly, waiting to be tethered to the deck by various tension cords.

Along the tiled wall, safety gear and underwater apparatus are stored, followed by a whiteboard scrawled with the abbey’s records for holding breath while underwater. My name sits at the top.

BREATH HOLD — UNDERWATER (the Rev certified)

M — 6:27

L — 5:54

T — 5:11

R — 4:48

D — 4:02

Six minutes, twenty-seven seconds. Three years running and nobody’s touched it. There are other signs of a Sinner’s prowess, too. Ropes over the pool’s deep end. Straitjackets amongst the harnesses. A hand-painted rule on the tile above the drain: “First one to tap out loses.”

Can’t Cisco see what he’s walking into?

I dig in my heels and yank my arm away from him.

“I appreciate this,” I tell him. “But it’s pointless to fight.”

Annoyance echoes in his eyes. “This will let off steam. Believe me.”

“Oh, I believe you. I’m just telling you that it’s pointless. Therefore, it’s a waste of our time.”

We both seem to notice the silence at the same time. The girls have stopped splashing, and the Sinners are sitting upright, alert. They pick up on my tension. Wesley’s book is left on the bench, and he’s strolling toward us. The whoosh of the door swinging closed behind me announces the arrival of others.

“Is everything okay?” Dominic asks in Italian.

“Nothing to worry about,” Cisco replies in kind, eyes glinting. “She won’t fight me. She would make the chickens laugh.”

“Ah.” Dominic solemnly nods. “Yes. The chickens have been laughing for some time.”

My jaw drops to the fucking ground. The assholes know I speak Italian, and I don’t remember exactly what that chicken business means, but I know they’re poking fun at me.

“You did not just say that.” I glare at the priest.

His lips curve, and he gives a nonchalant shrug. “From here it looks true.”

I start seeing red, start planning the quickest path to his demise when Raven barges into the room, Jasmine and Hannah trailing behind her. They glare daggers at the men and stop behind me, a trio of force. Leila and Tawny slowly rise from their benches across the pool and quietly walk the deck perimeter at the rear, closing in on Cisco from behind.

It warms my heart to see them all come to my aid so quickly and instinctively.

Not that there’s a problem with my leadership.