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“Come here, Lachlan. On your knees.” He unzips his pants fully. “Worship me, and I’ll give you what we both need.”
Need? What does he know about my needs? His sick needs took everything Iwantedaway from me. But I say nothing. I think of Michael, who also said nothing. I get it now, because I’m at a complete and utter loss for fucking words.
“Lachlan, I know you’re confused. It’s okay. So was I.” He keeps stroking, his bulge growing by the second. “I’m still a man of God. He created us in his image. That means somewhere inside him, he’s like this, too.”
I don’t move. I’m shocked. I expected he’d see me and know I was here to hurt him, to cry out, beg for his life. Instead, he’s trying to seduce me.
“I can’t help it, Lachlan. It’s who I am. God forgives me. I beg every day for atonement.”
I glare at him.
“Come here.” Eamon takes out his fat cock. “I’ll be gentle with you.”
“No,” I finally mutter.
He smirks, and licking his lips, he says, “Good boy. I like a fight.”
That makes me grin, and I hope the light catches my scar. “Me, too,” I drawl, taking out my gun.
“Whoa.” He stumbles back. “What are you doing? I’m not armed.”
“I didn’t say it would be a fair fight.” With a suppressor on the end of my Ruger, I empty the clip into Eamon’s chest.
He falls back onto the bed, and in a matter of seconds, blood soaks the sheets. I stare at his cock and consider if I should zip him up. Then I’d have to touch him.
No… I leave it hanging out. Let him suffer the indignity when the cops show up and take photos.
Leave no doubt of the sad pervert he is.
Tears stream down Katya’s face when I open my eyes to look at her for the first time since I started speaking. “I’m so sorry, Lachlan. You had no choice. You did the right thing.”
Fuck, no one’s ever said that to me. Just made me feel like the devil for killing a man of the cloth. It never left me how, with the weight of my gun on him, Eamon couldn’t break from his wanton lust.
“I want to make something clear…” I say, just to get the thought out there. “I didn’t fault him as a man wanting another man. I don’t consider that a mortal sin. I can even overlook a priest who couldn’t control his celibacy and perhaps sneaks off to get satisfaction. But to fuck a helpless kid? Boy or girl?” My teeth clench. “Ones who trusted him the way I did? Looked up to him the way I did? That’s the fucking disgusting part.That’sthe unforgivable part. Sure, I took a life without judge and jury, but he admitted his sins to me. I had to end him.”
I just never expected it would rip the spine out of my life plans.
I refused to feel sorry for myself, being denied the life I had wanted serving God. I took my new life in stride. Made the best of it.
This life has given me a wife who brings me to my knees, and I say silent prayers, thanking God that she’s mine. I want to tell her I love her. I want to hide her away from the world so she can never leave me. But my choices were taken away from me. I won’t deny hers. She’s going to her audition, and I have to roll the dice to see where it leads.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Katya
Ibreatheheavily,staringat the opposite side of the stage. My finale is a spirited run and a double twist high in the air, landing on one foot. My ears are still ringing, and I’m so dizzy my heart is pounding.
I swallow, considering just ending the routine here. I glance at the judges’ faces, hungry for me to finish. No doubt they were briefed on the routine, so they know how to score. The man and two women write notes, their faces even. I wonder if that’s on purpose, or rather that I haven’t impressed them so far.
After the shooting, a few girls dropped out. That leaves me and two others to compete for the one open spot. They went first and were flawless. All while I’m a shaking mess. I doubt I’ll get any bonus points considering what I went through.
Fairness is a distant dream, a ring so high I never reached for it. Living this past month with Lachlan has made me realize my worth. Made me fight for it. He will appreciate that I didn’t give up. And that I’m professional and flexible. Ironic term for a ballerina when that’s all we are… Flexible.
Not that I care how this goes. I’m not going to London. I’m only here because I worked for this and want to see it through. I can’t send the message that doing what Mark, the shooter, did will silence my ambition.
My stomach twists as anger tightens every muscle, and I shake out my limbs to loosen up. I still want to dance for a living and to beofferedthe London spot will work in my favor someday.
My husband sits a few rows behind the judges. He’s the only other person in the auditorium. Even if every seat was filled, he’d stand out. He’s so broad, dressed in black, with tattooed hands—my name on one of them—he keeps close to his face.
