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“Oh, child.” I’d bet the rest of the Capulet fortune that his hand is on his chest right now. “Those are not your mortal sins. Of course not.”
“I set my unborn children free.” A pause. “My family conspired to steal my eggs and make them into embryos with my ex-fiance’s sperm. They didn’t tell me they were going to do it, obviously. I didn’t have a choice in the matter. It was a total violation. But I couldn’t go through with it. I feel like that’s theft on their part, and I set things right. I guess what you need to know is that there are no more embryos. I destroyed them. I buried them. I laid them to rest.”
The rain tip-taps against the chapel roof, punctuating the silence.
“Avery?”
It’s shocking to hear my name in a confessional booth, sprung from the lips of a priest I have never laid eyes on before, much less spoken to.
“How do you know who I am?” I ask curiously.
“A friend of mine asked me to keep an eye on you. The police officer who dropped you off this afternoon.”
Oh. I didn’t know Elliot was religious. Or that he was besties with this new priest.
The priest doesn’t speak again, and I feel I have to fill the silence. Perhaps that’s his intention.
“I think about finding the men who took me all the time. I think about what I would do to them, if I had the chance. Father, do you believe in the concept of an eye for an eye?”
“That depends. Are you asking me as a priest, or as a man?”
I chew on my lip thoughtfully. “Both.”
“Well, Jesus tells us to turn the other cheek. But Leviticus says, ‘And if a man cause a blemish in his neighbor; as he hath done, so shall it be done to him; breach for breach, eye for eye, tooth for tooth: as he hath caused a blemish in a man, so shall it be done to him again. And he that killeth a beast, he shall restore it: and he that killeth a man, he shall be put to death.’Perhaps Jesus would see the ones who wronged you as beasts, and not men.”
I allow myself a small smile, the growing darkness inside me pleased by his interpretation of vengeance.
“You’re not like any priest I’ve spoken to before,” I muse.
“You’re not like any woman I’ve spoken to before,” he replies without missing a beat. “I haven’t met many who could have survived such an ordeal.”
For some reason that makes me start crying again.
“Are you all right?” It’s not the question I was expecting him to ask.
“No.” I let out a heavy breath. “I’m not. I don’t know if I’ll ever be all right again.”
The priest clears his throat. “I absolve you of your sin. Ten Our Fathers, ten Hail Marys, and please—please. Be in peace. The Lord forgives, it’s true. But the sins others have committed upon you were never your sins to pay penance for. I will pray for you, Avery.”
“Thank you.” The incessant vibration from my burner phone is making my purse dance on my lap. Impatiently, I slide the phone out and glance at the screen. Seven missed calls and a frantic text from Elliot:
DON’T GO ANYWHERE. I’M ON MY WAY BACK.
Guess he found out about my little stint at the fertility clinic, then. I need to get the fuck out of here before he gets back and hauls me off for armed robbery. Question is,how am I going to get out of here without a car of my own?
I’m quiet for a minute. On my phone, transferring some money from my Capulet trust fund account.
“There’s actually one more thing.”
A tiny, muffled thud from the other side of the booth. Poor guy. “Go on.”
“Can I borrow your car?” He’s speechless. “Also, I just donated a hundred thousand dollars to the church this afternoon. The transfer should arrive by the end of the week. Those two things aren’t related, I swear.”
A minute later we’re outside the booth, the priest’s grave, dark eyes meeting my own as he drops his car keys into my hand. “Go in peace,” he says, the deep timbre of his voice grounding me, calming me. “And watch second gear. It catches sometimes.”
Five minutes later I’m out back, clicking the lock on the priest’s car after ditching my burner phone in the bushes. Can’t risk Elliot tracking my phone, since he has the number. Nope. I’m off the grid until further notice.
Holy Cross’s new priest drives a shiny red Shelby Mustang with two huge white racing stripes. The old Avery Capulet wouldn’t be caught dead in this car. The new Avery Capulet, freshly confessed and with a gun in her purse, cracks a smile.
