Page 39 of Dark Side of the Cloth

“Are you sure? I can’t hear you,” Dean tested.

“Fuck yes!”

“The correct answer is, yes, Sir.”

“Yes, Sir!” Jeremy yelled.

Satisfied, Dean walked backward until he pulled Jeremy back over the ledge. The guy was shaking like a leaf, tears streaming down his face as he sat curled up with his arms around his knees. Dean walked forward and squatted down in front of the kid to untie the rope.

“You, son, are one lucky SOB. You may not realize it right this moment, but what I’m going to offer you will change your life forever. But, you must be willing to go through the hard shit. The withdrawals, the fear, and even confessing all your sins and pain. If you can walk away from the demons that have brought you to this moment and become a man, you will have what you really want.”

“What’s that?”

“A chance to be a better person. A life that will allow you to look in the mirror and feel pride.” Jeremy looked away from his eyes and wiped the tears off his cheeks.

“You’re one fucking crazy priest, Mister.”

Dean laughed and stood, offering his hand to Jeremy. “That is not even up for debate, son. I most certainly am.”

“Now, there are three things you must agree to first. Make sure you’re paying attention. None of these are negotiable.” Jeremy’s eyes were glued to his face. “First, you will attend rehab, one of my choosing, and you will not leave there until I say you’re ready. Second, before you head to rehab, you will come with me to the hospital and apologize to Mabel for what you did to her. Once you are out of rehab as your penance, you will help her in the restaurant doing whatever she asks until I say otherwise.”

“I see a common theme here.” Jeremy crossed his arms over his chest.

“You catch on quick. Third, and this is very important. You must agree to complete secrecy about me and my involvement because if you do not follow through, if you break any of the conditions, I will slit your throat. I promise you that, and I always keep my promises.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re not a very good salesman?” Jeremy asked, his face as white as snow on the rooftop.

Dean laughed hard and held out his hand. “Let’s go get you that second chance.”

Jeremy looked at the hand for a moment and then slowly reached up, pausing just before their hands touched. “You’re not going to put me back over the ledge, or something, are you?”

Dean laughed again. “No, not tonight, but there’s always tomorrow.”

“That’s not even fucking funny.” Jeremy clasped his hand.

“First rule. Don’t swear to your superior. That will get you put back over the ledge.”

Jeremy swallowed hard, but the kid had balls—he stood a little straighter and nodded.

Dean might be crazy for doing this, but it felt right. It felt like he was paying it forward and like it was time he took on a protégé. But, first the kid needed to get clean, which meant a trip to Morry’s rehab clinic. Plus, the middle of butt fucking nowhere, off the books, boot camp would either make Jeremy or break him.

Dean looked over at Jeremy sleeping in the passenger seat of the Hummer. He didn’t like traveling this far from his home base, but he hated even more the idea of being away from Yasmine. The irrational portion of his mind screamed that he needed to be close to protect her, but in truth, the only thing that she needed protecting from was possibly him.

If he was honest with himself, he detested the idea of being this close to the Mexican border. Ten years was a long time to stay hidden from his father, but he also knew that it wasn’t nearly long enough. Even as a full-grown-ass man, and a lethal killing machine, he feared his father finding him.

He turned onto a bumpy desert road that no one would ever find, nor would intentionally seek out. As he drove, the Hummer rattled violently from side to side on the uneven terrain.

“Where are we?” Jeremy asked as he rubbed his face.

He was in the very early stages of withdrawal, and Dean wanted him out of his truck and in the hands of Morry before shit got worse. “The location is secret, but I can tell you that you are somewhere in Arizona.”

“Secret? I’m not allowed to know where I’m going? This isn’t some fucking sex trafficking thing, is it?”

Dean glanced over at Jeremy, and his hands had made fists on his knees. He was shaking, and it had nothing to do with the road.

“No, this place is nothing like that. I meant what I said about you getting the help you need.”

“Is your name really Dean?” Jeremy asked. “Only cause you don’t look like no Dean, or an O’Sullivan… or even a priest.”