Lust Is the Thorn (12 page)

The next morning, my packed bag waited by the door, and I stood in the sunlight streaming through the window, watching birds hop on the lawn in search of worms and then glaring up at the cloudless sky. The sun was bright, and so were the rest of the creatures outside this house, but I was in a foul mood. One I couldn't shake. And I knew exactly why that was. It was because my time with Rose was at an end.

I'd snuck out of her bed an hour ago, right before the sun rose, and my arms felt emptier than usual, because last night had been my last night to sleep with her in my arms. What had started as a way to comfort her had become more, something to treasure. I'd never get to feel that again. Never hold her again. Never wake up with her hand on my chest and her leg thrown over mine. Never breathe in her scent as I opened my eyes.

It was gone. All of it was gone.

Sighing, I rested my forehead on the cold glass. “I messed up, Mikey. I lost track of what I was supposed to be doing, and did what I wanted instead. I'm sorry for that, but I won't let it stop me from fulfilling the promise I made when you died. Your death wasn't for nothing. I swear it.”

No answer came. Not a huge surprise there. He probably wasn't speaking to me because I'd banged his sister last night. Totally understandable reaction. If he were alive and knew what we'd done, he would have beaten me within an inch of my life, and I would have deserved it. Rose should give her heart to someone far better than me. Someone who would cherish her, and never let her go. Never hurt her.

A prince. Or maybe a king.

Not
me
. Never
me
.

Shaking my head, I returned my attention to the birds. The grass was frozen in an opaque crystallized version of actual grass, and I pressed my hand to the cold glass as the birds took flight and left. I watched them go with a heavy heart. Since Mikey had died, I had had one goal, and only one goal: to take my vows, become a priest, and make up for the fact that on that night almost eight years ago, I'd killed my best friend.

It had all happened so fast.

Mikey had started out behind the wheel, but at the first red light we stopped at, he'd passed out. Legitimately
passed out
. Knowing we couldn't stay in the road like sitting ducks, I'd slid him mostly into the passenger's seat and decided to pull off down a side street to find somewhere to park and sleep off the drugs fogging my mind. I'd been too wasted to think through my actions thoroughly. To think that maybe I should have just called for a cab and gotten help. Instead…I'd driven two blocks.

Two. Damn. Blocks.

That's all it took to kill Mikey.

I saw the empty parking lot I'd been searching for. Cars often parked there for carpools or bus trips, so another one in the lot wouldn't be suspicious. When I turned left to approach the dark lot, I hit an icy patch on the road and slid. There was no time to react. No time to correct. I swerved off the road and hit a tree, and I found myself in the car alone, shaking and bleeding as I tried to figure out where the hell Mikey had gone.

And then I found him…

Bloody and broken on the road.

As I fell to my knees beside him, I'd clutched his hand and asked him if he was okay. He said it didn't hurt at all, and then choked on blood. After that, he'd said one word. One word only.
Rose
. Tears running down my cheeks, I'd sworn to take care of her. To protect her. To make sure that I never did anything like this ever again. That I would clean up my life. I'd promised him. And then he'd died.

Just…
died
.

Because I drove two fucking blocks.

When the cops came to the scene and found Mikey's car with a busted-out windshield and me clutching my dead best friend in my arms, in shock, the cops had written it off as a tragic accident, and the case had been closed without a full investigation. Typical South Side shit. Before I could even register what had happened, the medical examiner was bending over Mikey's body, and paramedics were poking and prodding me. No one asked me a single question. No one thought I'd been the one driving. It took me three days to realize that. To come out of my shock and grief.

To realize my crimes would go unpunished.

I had tried to put it right, but no one heard me. No one cared. When I couldn't look at myself in the mirror anymore, when I couldn't live with the
guilt
anymore, that's when I'd gotten the gun from Mikey's room, walked past Rose's room, where she was sobbing her eyes out, and gone to the closest church. I'd prayed for forgiveness, with tears running down my cheeks, and I'd prayed for the strength to either get clean or put a bullet through my skull. Neither one came.

Father John had come instead.

Back then, I'd decided to become a priest because at the time, it was pretty much the worst possible life I could imagine living. It was the one way to deny myself the life I really wanted. It was my own form of serving life in prison, and it had been fitting.

But over the years, I'd accepted my guilt for what happened that night. I knew now that becoming a priest to atone for that guilt was wrong, but the funny thing was, sometimes God leads us down a path because we are supposed to learn a lesson, or make a choice. And the grief that had led me to that church that night, that had made me suicidal, ended up saving me. I had prayed for the strength to end everything, and instead, I'd found the strength to keep going. I could never fix myself, but I could help fix the world.

What had started as penance had become so much more, but now the nagging hesitation I'd been feeling finally made sense. I loved Rose. I did. I loved her with all my heart and soul, and that love would never die. There would never be a moment when I wouldn't wish for that other life with Rose, the one she'd mentioned where we were happy together.

There would never be a time when I didn't ache for that life. For her. For what we could have been. But after all I'd done, and all the pain I'd caused in this world, I couldn't veer from my path. If I turned away from it now, from where I was meant to
go,
then I'd be that same selfish kid who hadn't spoken up when the cops had assumed it was Mikey driving that car. I'd be focusing only on what I wanted, what would make
me
happy. As a priest, I would be serving my parishioners, putting their spiritual needs ahead of my earthly desires. Father John had saved me.

As a priest, I could save someone else.

I pressed my knuckles to my mouth and swallowed hard, staring outside with blank eyes. The bedroom door opened behind me, and I braced myself. I'd allowed myself one time with her, but that was all I got. If I still wanted to be a priest—and I
did
—I had to keep myself together.

“Good morning,” I said, not turning around. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a baby,” she said cheerfully. “You?”

“Yeah, great,” I muttered. “I'm going to miss that bed. It's soft.”

“Right? Me, too. It's like sleeping on a cloud.”

I forced a laugh. “Yeah.”

“So, party's over, huh?” she asked slowly, her tone just as cheerful as before. “Time to go back to our real lives?”

It bothered me that she sounded so
okay
.

Logically, I was happy for her. That's who she was. She took what life gave her, and rolled with the punches. It's what had made her such a strong person all these years. Why she survived. I didn't want her hurting when I took my vows. Obviously. But it was the principle.

I was
breaking down,
and she was
smiling
.

“Yeah. I have to go back, and you have your first day of work.” I paused and studied her. “Do you need clothes for it?”

“Nah. One of the dancers from Kitty Kat's put my crap in her storage unit with her stuff, since they already gave my room away to someone else.”

Good. “When did you get your stuff from your ex's place?”

She pressed her lips together. “I took them out of the apartment when he was at the bar with one of his girls. He never knew I was coming, and I was gone before he brought her home. I took all the cash I found, too, since it was mine anyway.”

“With the security guy from the club?”

She laughed. “Uh…no. Just me, myself, and I.”

“You shouldn't have gone there alone.” I gritted my teeth, on edge. There was no stopping that, or changing it. I was pissed at the world, at myself, and to be completely honest, at
her,
too. Just a little bit. “What if he'd come back early and hurt you?”

She shrugged casually. “He didn't, obviously, so I was fine.”

“But—”

She frowned at me, her happy smile finally leaving. “No
buts
. Just because you fucked me last night doesn't mean you get to boss me around, so you can get that out of your head right now. I was fine. He didn't come home. I'm here, with you, safe and mostly sound, and he didn't hurt me again. So build a bridge and get over it.”

Clenching my jaw, I turned away before I could say something stupid. Something along the lines of how much I wanted to be with her, and how I wasn't sure if I could be who I was supposed to be anymore. “You're right. Of course.”

She tapped her foot, staring at me, staying silent.

I dragged a hand through my hair and walked up to her. She had her bag on her good shoulder, so I took it and slung it over mine. Her cheeks were flushed, her gaze hard, and she watched me as if we hadn't been naked together last night. As if nothing had happened at all. It was so easy for her. I wished it was as easy for me.

“We'll pick up your clothes on the way to your new place. You'll need them for work,” I said slowly. “Do you know the code to get in, and the unit number? And do you have a key?”

“Yeah. I called her earlier, and she's leaving the spare there for me.” She watched me through her long lashes. “Hey.” She rested a hand on my arm. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?” I asked, forcing a small smile. It hurt. “Ready to go see your new place? I heard it has its own washer and dryer.”

Her cheeks flushed pink. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Wow.” She took a deep breath and nodded once. “Thank you, again, for doing this. I could never ask it of you, but since you did it without asking…I'll make sure not to take it for granted, or to waste your generosity.”

I motioned her forward, not saying anything, and hurried after her to open the door. She shot me a grateful smile and glided through gracefully. Today she'd opted for a pair of jeans. Her long brown hair was down, as usual, and I could smell the sweet shampoo wafting off her. The scent reminded me of washing her in the bath, and how she'd made me want more than I'd sworn to keep myself to.

More than
this
life.

After that first day when I'd bathed her and almost taken her, I'd gone out and bought big trash bags to cover her splint so she could wash herself. I hadn't bathed her since, since I hadn't wanted to take any chances with my vow of celibacy. It hadn't stopped me from taking her anyway. Guess I was still a selfish bastard after all.

Once I dropped her off at her new place, I'd have to go to confession, ask for forgiveness, and focus on my goals again. Rolling my shoulders, I walked around the side of the car and sat down in the driver's seat.

As I cranked the engine, I asked, “Where's the storage place?”

When she didn't answer, I glanced over at her. She was watching the house, lost in thought and looking almost as melancholy as I felt. She gripped her thigh tightly, her stare focused and unblinking. Reaching out, I closed my hand over hers and squeezed.

She turned to me, her vision clearing. “Huh?”

“I asked where the storage place was,” I said slowly. “So we can get your clothes.”

“Oh. Right. It's the place on St. James Street.”

“Okay.” I still hadn't let go of her, and I glanced down. The pale whiteness of her hand against my tanned one was more of a contrast than usual. Gritting my teeth, I had to forcibly drag my hand off hers. It felt as if a magnet were pulling us together, trying to keep our skin touching. “Off we go.”

She gave me the side-eye and smiled, but I could tell it was forced. “Great. Can't wait to get my stuff back.”

Her forced cheerfulness was almost as pained as mine.

I didn't bother to fake another optimistic reply.

We weren't fooling each other, and if anyone else had been with us, we wouldn't have fooled them, either. We drove the rest of the way in silence, and she gripped her thigh as tightly as I did my steering wheel. When I pulled up to the gate of the storage company, I rolled down my window. It was freezing outside, as usual in Chicago. “Code?”

She shook herself and let out a long breath. When she turned to give me the code, her face was placid and unreadable.

I punched in the code. As we watched the gate creak open, I stole a quick glance at her. She was facing the other way again. “Rose.”

“Hmm?”

“I just thought you should know that I don't regret a thing. Not a single second I spent with you.” I rubbed the back of my neck and laughed nervously. “I know you were worried about that, and probably still are, but I promised I wouldn't regret you, and I won't ever break a promise to you.”

She bit her tongue and nodded once.

We collected her bags fairly easily because she didn't exactly own a lot of stuff. There was no furniture. Just an air mattress, a small TV, clothes, and a few personal items.

As we were leaving the storage unit, I noticed a picture frame we'd missed lying facedown where her stuff had been. I picked it up and flipped it over to see if it was hers or the other dancer's. Something invisible but sharp stabbed me in the chest, because I knew exactly whose picture this was….