A Beautiful Sin (18 page)

“So let me get this straight.” She ticked off the details, finishing with, “And you woke up in his bed. Do I have it about right?”

“Yep. You’ve got it right.”

“Criminy jickets. You slept in hot priest’s bed?”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “There’s a little more.”

She grabbed my arms. “What?”

“Don’t get your hopes up. It’s not that lewd. But I kissed him.”

“Holy Mary, mother of God!”

Her eyes nearly popped out of her head.

“Where’s the holy water?”

“Exactly.”

“You actually kissed a Roman Catholic priest?” she asked while fanning herself.

“Yes. But it wasn’t the first time.”

“What the fuck? What do you mean there was a second time?”

“The first time happened when I was a little drunk and he said he’d never been kissed before.”

“Hold up! Why were you talking about kissing to him?” She sat and matched my pose and angled her head in her hand so we looked each other squarely in the eye.

“I don’t even know.”

“Okay, okay. Now back to the kiss. Was there tongue?”

“No tongue. He practically ran out of the bar.”

“Wait a minute! You were on a date?”

“No!” Finally, I spilled my guts, telling her everything that happened with the first kiss.

“You know you’re going to hell, right? Where’s your rosary? We should start praying now,” she declared.

“I know,” I whined.

“You’re like a Jezebel or something.”

“Thanks, Mace. Thanks for your support. It’s not like I meant it. I shouldn’t have done it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

She stared at me for a long while. “It was a drunken mistake. Maybe you should apologize. Then you can see him again. If he gets flustered, you know he’s interested.”

“You are so not helping.”

She sat up and put her hands on her hips. “You know I’m teasing, right? He’s so off-limits no matter how hot he is.”

“It’s too late for the apology, because I kissed him again, remember?”

“Oh shit. You did say that. Haven! What the exact fuck are you doing here?”

“I don’t know.” I dropped my head in my hands. It didn’t stay there for long because Macie pulled it up by the unrecognizable excuse of a bun I had going on back there.

“Look at me.”

I did.

“Now give me the entire scoop from beginning to end.” And I did, including all the bits and pieces of how utterly beautiful he was and how pissed off he was at Kent.

She scratched her chin. “He likes you too. But you two are star-crossed. There is no way on this Earth should you ever see him again.”

“I know. He’s the only man I’ve ever wanted to kiss.”

“You need to go out with another man and get this Canaan out of your system.”

“There is the doctor.”

Her eyes went wide. “Doctor?”

I filled her in on that part of the story.

“Deffo call him ASAP. Oh my God, a doctor.” She clobbered my shoulder. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Ouch.” I rubbed the sore spot.

She pointed a finger at my face and circled it around. “Now what are you going to do about
that
?”

“Hope no one notices?”

“Okay, and how do think that’ll work for you?”

“It’s not that bad,” I huffed. Of course it was terrible. “A day or two of ice and some makeup will do the trick. I’ll call Jonathon today and tell him I have a migraine.”

The height of Macie’s eyebrows told me all I needed to know. But it was going to have to do for now. And what about my aunt? What had happened to her after I left? Was she safe? Had Kent hurt her? Anxiety over her had my belly swimming with sharks. But my worst problem was my heart. Even though I told myself I was being silly, I couldn’t stop thinking about Canaan. And why the hell did I allow that to happen?

My heart thumped wildly, giving me the sensation of suffocating. It was something I hadn’t felt since the day I entered the sacristy when I returned to Holy Cross. But this time it was for a very different reason—
Haven
. She was the last thing that should be on my mind. I had no business thinking of her this way. I was a priest, married to the church, sworn to live a life of celibacy.
Pull yourself together, Canaan.

How could I do my priestly duties—celebrate Mass, pray for people, administer the sacraments, counsel others—when I was in such turmoil and committing these grave sins by my unholy thoughts? Perspiration dripped down my forehead and cheeks in rivulets, stinging my eyes, and I blinked repeatedly, attempting to clear my vision. When I got home, I was dismayed to see I didn’t have time for a punishing run. I would have to suffer the pain of the belt and hope it would suffice for now. Since Bill was gone, I was sure to make the blows count in their strength and ferocity.

During Mass, I was reminded of my self-abasement each time I moved. The burn the leather left behind was a reminder of my repentance and a plea for mercy to ask Jesus to cleanse my soul from the sins that sullied it.

Instead, the evocation of Haven’s memory and how her lips felt—how soft they were against my own—burned hotter than Hell’s fire within me. Her scent, the soothing properties of lavender, was counterproductive. They flooded my being with agitated excitement when she elicited the nefarious kiss, tormenting me with the need to inhale every tiny bit of her. I didn’t know how I found the strength to push her away. Only if I hadn’t, I would’ve thrust my tongue into her mouth, because that was all I thought about. Was there a way to make this stop?

I pushed through the Mass, and afterward, with no discernment of how I’d done it. The whole undertaking was a blur. Even entering the sacristy hadn’t had time to weigh on me. Taking off the vestments, I sat down heavy-hearted.

The answer came swift and true. I could see I wouldn’t be able to have any contact with Haven again. The temptation was far too strong for my weak spirit. As though my brain were detached from my body, I stumbled to the prayer station and fell to my knees. Awareness clutched at me when I understood that Father O’Brien had been right all along. I was that sinner. My soul was tarnished. I was the embodiment of temptation. And ultimately, I was hurting Haven by being near her.

As the day wore on, I knew what had to be done.

Bill would be home later that day, and I’d promised Haven I would check up on Kathy. So I placed a call to her to see how she fared.

“Hello.”

“Kathy, this is Father Sullivan. I wanted to see how you were doing?”

She paused for a long moment and said, “I’m doing okay, I guess.”

Her voice held a cautious wariness I understood too well.

“Are you feeling well?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Would you mind if I came to see you?”

“Uh, I suppose that would be okay. Can you come before my husband gets home from work?”

“I can. When will that be?”

“He usually gets home around four thirty.”

We decided right away would be best. When I arrived, she opened the door, and it shocked me to see how far she’d regressed. In that moment, we were twin spirits, her haunted eyes mirrors of my own from long ago. Only one who’s been defeated would recognize the truth they held. She took a seat on the couch and huddled there like a woman twice her age. Concern for her safety pushed me to speak.

“Kathy, I need to ask you something. Did Kent hit you last night?”

She slumped forward and stared straight into her lap, remaining as still as a statue. I refused to break the silence, giving her the time she needed to compose her thoughts.

“He hit my niece last night. Twice. It was terrible. She ran out of here, and I’ve been so worried about her I’ve been unable to sleep at all. I didn’t dare call her because he was here, watching my every move. He took my phone from me and didn’t give it back until he went to work. And now I’m too ashamed to call her.”

I understood her more than I could admit.

“Did he hurt you?”

Her head moved back and forth. “No. But I would’ve rather he hit me than Haven. She stood up to him. I think she was afraid he would hit me. He overheard us talking about me leaving. We didn’t hear him come in. I’ll never be able to leave him now. He knows. He told me if I tried to leave, he would hurt Haven.”

I sighed. “Kathy, this is very serious. We need to file an order of protection with the police.”

“Father, you don’t understand. If we do that, he would make it go away. It would be my word against his.”

I wasn’t sure if she was right or not, but she was convinced of it. I couldn’t act without her wanting me to. My hands were tied. And I didn’t want to push her because if, on the outside chance that something did happen, I would have to live with the burden of it.

“Okay, promise me if anything happens where you need help, you’ll call the authorities and me.”

“Yes, I will.”

We prayed together before I left. I continued to pray for Kathy’s safety and health the entire journey home. It seemed it was raining bad news from all angles.

When I returned to the rectory, I hadn’t been there for more than five minutes when the police arrived. The first thing that came to mind was Kent Frederick. But that wasn’t why they were here.

“Hi, we’re detectives with the Berwyn PD. I’m John Hernandez, and this is Scott Collins. We’re here to discuss the death of Father O’Brien.”

I remembered Bill telling me the police had been around asking questions.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Father Canaan Sullivan, and you’ll probably need to talk to Father Bill Cernak. Unfortunately, he’s out of town at the moment. I’m new and wasn’t here when Father O’Brien passed away.”

They glanced at each other for a second, then John Hernandez said, “That’s fine. Can we have a minute of your time anyway? This shouldn’t take long.”

“Sure, but I doubt I can be of any help to you.” I ushered them into my tiny office and we sat.

Detective Hernandez did all the talking. “When we came out after Father O’Brien died, we did so because the death looked like it had the potential to have some foul play involved. But after we had a good look at the autopsy, it appears that Father O’Brien died of natural causes, specifically a heart attack. He must’ve fallen after he died and hit his head. So there was nothing suspicious about his death. We wanted to give you the news in person.”

I wasn’t sure how to feel. As much as I shouldn’t want it, the idea that he’d died in terror wasn’t all that offensive to my sinful mind. There would be much prayer for me tonight for even thinking that way.

“Thank you for stopping by and telling me. I’ll certainly pass this information on to Father Cernak. Does Father O’Brien’s family know?”

Did they know what kind of man he really was?

“Yes, we’ve informed them.”

“Well, thank you. Is there anything else?”

“No, the case is officially closed.”

I stood and held out my hand. Both men shook it, and I walked them out. I held my tongue the entire time. I wanted to ask them about Kent—whether or not they knew him, and if so, did they know he was abusive to his wife and niece. But I didn’t. I figured it would open a door I would deeply regret.

After I let them out, I returned to my office and made my decision. I hit the numbers and when she answered, I almost backed out. But I didn’t. I hung in there, sticking to my plan.

“Canaan? What’s up?”

Her voice, the way she spoke my name, was a salve to my wounded soul. “I saw Kathy today.”

“How’d she look? I talked to her this morning. She was all I could think of and I worried about her after the way I left last night.”

“She looks a little worse for wear. But her spirits are good. Although I think she’s more afraid than the brave face she puts on.”

She huffed out a groan, “Aren’t we all?”

I didn’t tell her that I wasn’t and that I could probably take him down without a problem. I kept my mouth shut on that subject. Violence wasn’t my normal course of action.

“Haven, I…we can’t see each other anymore. It’s…well, to be perfectly honest, it’s too unsettling for me. And for you, I believe.”

There was a brief pause, and I had no idea what to expect when she spoke again.

“Okay, that’s fine. I understand.” Her choppy words sounded unusually distant. “Besides, I took your suggestion. You’ll be happy to hear I’ve got a date with that new doctor.”

The word
good
that left my lips sounded as though someone else had said it. Her comment and the way she was so casual about it hit me like a battering ram. It punched my solar plexus and I wasn’t prepared for it. Had I not been seated, I would’ve been knocked off my feet.

It took me so long to respond, she said, “Canaan, are you still there?”

“Yeah,” I wheezed. “I’m really very sorry. I didn’t mean for this to get out of hand.”

“Hey, you’re making a bigger deal out of it than it is.”

Again, her flippant attitude took me aback. I thought she felt what I’d felt. Maybe I’d been a fool for believing it. It was impossible to respond.

Her indifference was further punctuated when she added, “Well, look, I’ve gotta run. I’m pretty busy here. Talk to you later. Or, not at all, as it seems. Have a great life.”