A Beautiful Sin (4 page)

“That’s right. You let us know if you need us.”

“I will, and thanks, Dad. I love you both.”

“Same here.”

By the time I made it to my quarters, which really only consisted of a bedroom and bathroom, my thoughts had drifted back to my days as an altar server at Holy Cross. Father O’Brien haunted my dreams for years, and I hoped I could be free from those nightmares that were my reality. Only I wasn’t. Immediately, I fell to my knees to beg for God’s forgiveness in being relieved over the demise of the man.

A few days later, I drove from what had been my home at the Moreau Seminary, located at the University of Notre Dame. That was where I had been educated, ordained into the priesthood, and then served in different capacities on staff. It was going to be a huge transition for me, one I doubted I was prepared for. My soul had been permanently cracked and scarred by the things that had transpired in the bowels of the church. I wasn’t sure what my reaction would be when I entered the place. The day I left, I secretly vowed never to return. Was there another lesson I would be forced to endure upon my return? Or perhaps not a lesson but a test? Whichever the case, I would discover it soon enough.

It didn’t take long to drive from South Bend, Indiana, to Bloomville, Illinois, a suburb of Chicago. The new pastor, Father William Cernak, would be there when I arrived. He’d known my parents since he had been the associate pastor to Father O’Brien. I didn’t know him, but Mom and Dad had nothing but good things to say about him. I wondered if he had any idea about Father O’Brien’s sacrilegious use of the sacristy and his depraved methods of punishment. Probably not. Father O’Brien would’ve been too smart to let that slip out of the bag.

On the way, I stopped by my parents’ for dinner having not seen them in some time. Mom made my favorites and Dad was happy to have someone to talk about sports and politics to.

“I can’t believe this day has come,” Mom said. “For a while there I thought maybe you would have chosen a different profession.”

“And that would have been okay,” Dad added.

Although I knew they were very proud of my choice.

Mom’s smile warmed me where cold had seeped into my bones from the topic of conversation. “I was so worried about you. You pulled back from wanting to attend Mass. Thank heaven for Father Rose. When he started Saturday evening service, you seemed brightened by the prospect. It’s a shame he had to leave to take care of family. He was young and I thought he really helped you reconnect with God.”

Father Rose had been a godly man. But I was more grateful not to serve as altar boy when Father O’Brien gave the service. 

I’d almost lost faith, but had come to accept who I was and trusted God’s plan for me.

I didn’t stay long, much to Mom’s disappointment. I said my goodbyes and drove to the rectory to meet Father Cernak.

When he ushered me inside with a friendly and easygoing manner that I liked, I knew instantly we would get along great. We sat and talked about what my goals were, which, to his surprise and my own, I told him truthfully that I’d been prepared to stay on staff at the seminary.

“I’ll be honest. I had no idea this was coming. I was happy where I was, so this took me by surprise,” I said.

He smiled gently. “God often works in mysterious ways, Canaan. There’s a good reason He brought you back here. I’m sure it will be revealed to you soon enough.”

My guts twisted at the thought. The idea of counseling people I knew and the potential things I might learn chilled me. I questioned whether I would be capable of that. Worse, I both dreaded and feared my first visit to the sacristy. What should be a revered room was a place of horrors for me.

“I’m sure you want to get settled. Let’s get your things.”

The robust man was probably in his forties and moved with speed. It only took two trips to get all my things inside and deposited into my new room. It was decent—a small bedroom with an attached bathroom, much like my rooms at Notre Dame. I unpacked and put all my things away, which took no time at all. When I finished, I joined Father in the den.

“Father Cernak, the nice thing about not owning a lot is it makes moving easy.”

We both chuckled.

“So, Canaan, I think first off, we ought to be on a first name basis, if that’s good with you.”

“Absolutely.”

“Good. Call me Bill, then.”

“Bill it is.”

“Tomorrow is Saturday, and I thought it might be best if you celebrated our five-thirty evening Mass. Does that work for you? It’s well-attended and it’s casual. You’re young, and I think you’ll be a hit with the youth. They’re the ones who frequently attend that service.”

“Sounds good. I guess I need to work on my homily then.”

“I was going to suggest just that. You can introduce yourself instead of focusing on the message from the gospel. It will make it easy on you, and it will satisfy the curiosity of the parishioners. And the Saturday attendees expect an abbreviated homily anyway. Now, Sunday, I was thinking you could do the early service and do the same thing. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. It sounds good.”

“On Sunday, I’ll do the nine thirty and eleven thirty. Then next week, we’ll move it around to give you a bit of exposure. Of course, you’ll be present at all.”

“Sounds good.”

Bill nodded, then added, “Great. Then why don’t I show you the office here so you can get acquainted with things? Tomorrow morning I’ll give you the grand tour of the church. Of course, I’m sure not much has changed since you left.”

“Sounds good.” Why did I keep repeating the same phrase?
Pull it together
.

“One other thing.”

I glanced back at him. “What’s that?”

“Father O’Brien.” I froze, unsure of where the conversation was leading. “The police have been around asking questions.”

When he didn’t go on further, I prodded him. “About what?”

“About his death. He fell backward and landed right on his head on the concrete, fracturing his skull. Even though he had a heart attack, they have to investigate if the heart attack came before or after the fall. They believe that it’s probably the former. They tell me it’s all as a matter of course for these things. I don’t think they will be back, but I thought it best to warn you.”

Present Day

He was moving fast, which I liked. His hand burned a trail down my back before he worked the zipper on my skirt.

“God, Haddy, you’re so hot.”

“Haven,” I said, correcting him.

“Yeah, whatever,” he said, fumbling with my zipper.

“Don’t talk, okay?” He was totally blowing this for me. I needed to get off and had made my choice for the night. I hoped I hadn’t picked wrong.

“God, your body is amazing.”

Whack
. He slapped hard against my ass.

The slap wasn’t actually that painful, but it rattled me. “Don’t hit me. I’m not into that.”

Whack
. “It’s a love tap, and your ass is off the charts.”

That was it. I shoved him away from me and started buttoning my blouse.

“What the hell, baby?”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me. I told you I’m not into hitting.”

I turned back, and his hands were palm up toward me with his pants around his ankles and his condom-covered cock pointing at me in accusation.

“Okay, fine, fine. Don’t go.”

His slightly smaller than average dick wasn’t worth my time.

“Too late for second chances,” I said after zipping my skirt back up. With my clutch in my hand, I was out the door. I was up for a lot of things, but
love taps
weren’t one of them.

The whole
love tapping
thing had unnerved me more than I cared to admit. I dropped my clutch twice before I was able to get in the elevator. During the ride down, I felt the burn in the back of my eyes. Shit. Where was that coming from? I rarely cried, yet tears dripped off my cheeks. I exited the building and quickly hailed a cab. Thankfully, the ride home was short and I grappled with the keys to unlock my door. It took me several stabs before I hit the damn slot and once I stumbled inside, I hunted for my phone and dialed Macie’s number.

Her sleep-heavy voice indicated I’d woken her up. “Yeah? What’s wrong?”

She knew me too well and had since our younger days at Holy Cross Catholic School. It was one thirty in the morning. I would never call her if something wasn’t wrong.

“I just had a really bad one.”

“A bad one what?”

I wanted to tell her all about the memory that threatened to bowl me over, but instead I heard myself saying, “A date.”

“Jesus. What happened?”

So I told her about the dude who slapped my ass.

She chuckled. “Okay, this is not funny in the least, but you left him standing with his dick ready to go.” She giggled some more, then sobered. “Do you think it wasn’t so much the slap, but the memories it triggered that had you heading for the hills?”

She knew me better than I was willing to admit to myself. But I couldn’t find words to answer her.

“I’m going to ask you this one more time. Are you sure you want to come back to Chicago?”

I let my head fall back on the sofa.

“I don’t know if the possibility of going back to Chicago was the trigger.”

She was quiet. Too quiet.

“Macie, you there?”

“Thinking.”

I sighed, needing her to talk me down from the ledge. “Well, can you think verbally?”

“So, you know how I feel about your random hookups.”

“Damn, you make it sound like I’m on the prowl every night. It’s like every blue moon when I get an itch.”

“But can’t you find a steady guy to scratch you?”

“Now that just sounds gross. Besides, I don’t think I’ll ever trust anyone enough to claim him. It’s all because of fuckface. He’s the reason I refuse to put my trust in anyone.”

“You trust me?”

I wasn’t sure that was a statement or a question. “Of course I do. You’ve been in the trenches with me. And you’ve never betrayed my trust.”

“And maybe there’s a guy like me out there.”

“Then you can have him. I like keeping things simple.”

“And what’s that? Casual hookups so you can avoid something serious?”

“Exactly,” I agreed.

She sighed and I knew she’d given up the relationship talk with me for tonight. “Fine, but back to the initial problem. Has anyone ever slapped you before during sex?”

“Yeah, and I don’t like it. At all. And I’ve dealt with it.”

“And?” she prodded.

“And what?”

“Any memories, flashbacks, anything ding-a-ling?”

I took a minute and thought about it. “No. Not that I recall.”

“Then it’s definitely Chicago. So, back to my other question. Are you sure about this? This could totally fuck with your head.”

It could, but this was a golden opportunity that didn’t come around often.

“Yeah, I know. But if I don’t take the risk and do this, I could totally screw my career over.”

“I know this may sound harsh, but is your career worth your sanity?”

I groaned. I’d worked so hard ever since I left Chicago to escape my uncle. My art was what kept me focused—that and my mom’s memory. I did it for her too. I knew she would’ve wanted me to follow my dream, and art was my dream.

“Yeah. It is,” I admitted.

“Then you have your answer. And I’m here with open arms and a sturdy shoulder if you need it. You are going to stay with me, right?”

“If you can stand me.”

“Do you even have to ask that?”

“Yes.”

But she ignored my moment of self-doubt and moved on. “So give me the details.”

“Macie, it’s almost two in the morning.”

“Hey, you’re the one who woke me up.”

And she was right. A small laugh escaped from my now happier face. I was thankful for her. She had a way of doing that for me. She was my shining light who managed to pull me through all the hell I was forced to endure. Without Macie and her mother, I was damn sure I would’ve never survived with a shred of sanity left. She helped me play the game with Uncle Kent so I wouldn’t get as many beatings. She taught me to keep my mouth shut when I would’ve sassed back. Macie taught me to be a thinker. And it paid off in the end. The abuse, though bad, wasn’t as frequent as it could have been. And even though Macie’s mom had no idea of what I was going through, she knew things weren’t good at home, just not why. I swore Macie to secrecy because I knew it would only cause more problems if her mom tried to intervene.

In retrospect, I wasn’t sure there was anything I could have done differently. Uncle Kent was still on the police force and did a lot in the community. Aunt Kathy sent me tidbits over the last few years of all the accolades he’d been awarded for stellar service. If I’d accused him, he probably would have had a lot of his friends to help him out. I could’ve been sent somewhere else where it would’ve been just as bad or worse.

“So? I know your show runs for six months, and I know when you’re coming, but are you going to give me the scoop about how you got hooked up with this deal? You’ve been super tight-lipped about it.” Macie’s voice pulled me back again.

“Sorry. I was just thinking about how lucky I am to have you.”