AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No phones,” Father Martin says. “That’s in the contract you signed, Kitty.”
“Yeah, well I don’t remember what was in the contract. I just—”
“It’s fine. I should have asked for it in the car, but I’ve been remiss.”
My mouth goes wide in horror as a pic comes through, taking up the screen. Then another.
Pictures from last night at the club. Pictures that make me cringe, at the drunken look on my face, at the way my shirt is torn around the neck, the single scratch down my cheek.
Another pops up, with a laughing emoji. Me flashing my boobs.
And there are tears in my eyes. Father Martin hasn’t seen the photos yet but if he just turns the phone right now he will, and I don’t want him to look at methat way. The same way Hoover does. I like the way he looks at me right now, like I’m a person who’s worthy of his time, like somehow I’m not the complete failure I’ve become.
“Please,” I beg, reaching for the phone but missing through the blinding tears.
“Hey,” he says, his brows drawing together. “Hey, no need to cry.” He’s on his feet, and I don’t pull away fast enough before he grabs the back of my upper arm.
And I flinch, tugging away on a loud wince.
“Kitty?” He slides the phone across his desk, closing the space between us. “I barely touched you. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s a fucking lie.” The sharp jab of the curse word makes me draw a breath. “Remember, I’m here for you, only you. Now, you will tell me the truth.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
His eyes narrow, nostrils flaring. “Well, you’re going to. And then I’ll make it right.”
“You can’t.”
His hand squeezes lightly at the same spot and I hiss through my teeth. “Kitty, show me your arm.”
I back away. Embarrassment makes me want to shrink into myself. But at the same time? The way he’s talking, demanding, protective… It turns me on. I can’t help it. I want him to tell me what to do and make me do it. I want to feel like I’ll always be safe with him.
“I’m not fucking kidding.” He steps forward, catching me in his arms, and I put up little resistance.
I want to feel his lips on mine. I want to feel his hand on my body. As he starts unzipping my hoodie, my breathing quickens. Is this it? Is he going to strip me and take me?
But instead, he just loosens it enough to pull it over my shoulder, exposing my arm.
“How did you get these bruises?” His voice is a low growl, his eyes spearing mine as the muscle in his jaw works. “Who fucking hurt you?”
Let’s blow some shit up.
He’s not like other priests. This I’m beginning to realize, but I jump at the fury in his voice, at the ease at which he drops the F-bombs. “I don’t…I was drunk. He…he had a knife. I didn’t want to tell anyone. Zip ties. I remember there were zip ties. He tried to get them around my wrists.”
“Did he rape you? Who? Fucking tell me right now.”
“No.” I shake my head. “No. My dad took me to these self-defense classes after this horrible dance in third grade…. Anyway, the guy wasn’t expecting me to fight back. I don’tknowwho he was. He had a scar on his face, like under his eye. I remember it looked like a question mark, like he was the Riddler or something. And two fingers missing from the knuckle down on his left hand. That’s all I remember. It all happened so fast but I got the knife from him. I zip tied him to the toilet in one stall, then used the other.” I clutch my forehead. “God, I’m so stupid. I ran back to the party… drank some more, pretended it didn’t happen. It almost felt like it didn’t, until now.”
A sob rocks me as I bury my face in his chest, feeling the hardness of his muscles, the firm grip on my shoulders. Hishand goes to my head, smoothing my hair, and I draw a deep, shuddering breath, wanting to stay here forever.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him.
“No, I’m sorry. Does having your phone make you feel safer here?”
“Yes. I guess.”
