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E: Dammit G… you have got to stay on the down low.
Me: I’m aware. Headed your way.
E: You’re playing with fire.
I don’t bother answering. Locking the door to my bedroom from the outside, I feel better knowing Jacqulin can’t escape. Putting my Roman collar on, I walk out of the church. It’s going to be hard to resist the urge to kill them once there.
Knocking on the front door, E answers and looks at me. She mouths, “Don’t show your cards.” She lets me in and tries to fix her worried expression.
“Ah, Father Zimmerman.” Luciano comes to me and shakes my hand. The urge to break his entire arm off his body and beat him with it is strong.
“Mr. Luciano, it is nice of you to welcome me.” Smiling, I keep myself as least threatening as possible. He walks me to an office that is covered in yellow and white. Disgusting.
“Miss Luciano came to me this morning and confessed she was unsure of the union between her and Mr. Gomez.”
Gomez scowls at me but says nothing. No, he won’t. He’s going to act like the perfect gentleman in front of Luciano. Even though I’m sure they both know what a psycho he is.
Luciano sits down with a frown on his face. “My daughter is whimsical and believes that she should fall in love first. If she would only trust me.”
Oh, he’s going to play the loving father. The son of a bitch is good. Nodding, I simply shrug. “Childish dreams are hard to deny but, I’m sure with counseling, we can get her on the right path.”
I may go to hell for what I did to her this morning, but I should earn a freaking spot on the angel team for my restraint right now. Luciano pulls out a cigar and cuts the end. He chews on the other one before he lights it. The smell is sickly sweet, and I gulp to not wretch.
“What do you have in mind, Father?” Gomez looks at me with a gleam in his eyes that tells me he knows what he wants to do to make Jacqulin obey. Over his dead body. He’ll never touch my girl.
Pasting a smile on my face, I turn toward him. “First, we should at least make sure she is comfortable with you. Second, I believe by talking and walking through the Pre-Cana, we can help ease her into the marriage.”
Gomez huffs and mumbles something about beating her into it. Gripping the arms of my chair, I look over at Luciano. “Father, we need to be married by the end of the week. I have the marriage license. Yes, it’s uncommon for a Catholic to skip the Pre-Cana. However, I hope you will marry them this Friday.”
Yeah, not happening. Before I can say no, he slips an envelope my way. “This should help you look the other way.”
“Are you bribing a servant of the Lord?” Yup, definitely going to hell.
“No. I’m helping the church. The fundraiser for the summer programs is coming up soon.” Luciano knows I can’t turn down charity. It isn’t in the church's nature to do so.
“Very well. Have you announced the engagement and reserved the church?” My anger is a ticking time bomb. Plans have changed now.
“I’m hoping the donation will settle all of that.” Luciano sits back in his chair, a smug look on his face. I can’t wait to slice his throat.
“This will do.” Standing up, the urge to leave is overwhelming. If I stay, I know I will kill them all, and that’s not what my boss wants. No, he wants them alive. Fucker. “I’ll send Jacqulin back home, but first, I’d like to set a time to talk to her privately about her duties as a wife.”
Gomez face contorts into an evil grin that I want to wipe off his face. “Be sure that you do.” Luciano laughs as I make my way toward the door.
Once I’m out of Luciano’s house, I can breathe. There’s a pit in my stomach that makes me sick to think I am going to send my girl back to these wolves. If I don’t though, they are likely to kill me—and her. That’s not acceptable. With a plan in place, I stomp back to the church.
CHAPTER NINE
JACQULIN
I’m disoriented when I wake up. My heart rate skyrockets as everything floods through me. When I notice the room is void of Germaine, my stomach sinks. Shame fills me but I don’t get to ponder upon it too long. The door opens and in walks the man that I dream about at night.
“You’re awake.” There’s a coldness to his tone that makes me blush and flinch.
“Yes, Father Zimmerman,” I answer, my words muttered. Keeping my eyes down so I can’t see him, my brain wonders what he is thinking. He must think I'm a trollop.
“Eyes on me, little one.” It takes everything in me to look up and meet his glare. “You need to get up and go home.”
“I understand.” The handcuffs dangle from the bed, but I’m free. My clothes have been fixed, so that means he has been here. Did he watch me sleep? It doesn’t matter. It’s obvious he’s done with me, and boy, do I feel foolish.
