It needed time.
“I would encourage you to think about it,” Father Marcellus said. “Time is of the essence, and the Fallen Saints will not be waiting long for their strikes.”
“Yup.”
A silence fell as it looked like Father Marcellus wanted to add something more, but given we were alone under a peaceful night, the situation felt anything but urgent.
“How are you doing otherwise?” he said, a sly smile on his face.
“Fine.”
Father Marcellus chuckled.
“You know it’s a sin to lie,” he said. “I’m more perceptive than you might think. I know when you are suffering.”
Damnit.
“It’s also a sin to keep pushing someone to talk when they don’t want to confess something,” I said, albeit with a massive, guilty grin on my face.
Father Marcellus just sat there, folded his hands in his lap, and let me stammer and try to contain myself until the words eventually came out. Which, sure enough...
“Well, there’s this girl...”
“Ah, as many of you have said in recent times.”
“And it was going great, but then she told me she was planning on moving in a couple of months. I took it really hard. I know, that’s fucking stupid, just one date, but—”
“That one date was not the first time you had met her, was it?”
Get out of my head, old man.
“Maybe,” I said. “But the point is, it’s affecting me a little bit. I gave it to her great in bed...”
I paused for a second when I remembered it was probably more accurate to say she gave it great to me in bed. But there was no way I could admit something like that.
“And we clicked well, maybe I was a little blinded by the sex. So... you know what? It’s not that I’m taking it too hard. Something like that...”
I’d already confessed that it was hurting me. There was no real reason to act all macho here to try to prove a point. I just shut up and let the good man start speaking.
Off in the distance, I could hear the sound of about half a dozen motorcycles approaching. Father Marcellus didn’t seem the least bit concerned—perhaps they were the other Black Reapers returning—so I followed his lead. I knew, though, this would mean the end of our conversation soon.
“You know, I have often heard people say, ‘If you love someone, let them go,’ and they think it is profound advice. Really, it is quite practical—if you cling to someone far too hard, they will feel overwhelmed and will look for any chance to escape. And, on the flip side, if you do let them go, they are likely to admire you for having the courage to do this.”
“OK, Dr. Phil,” I said with a chuckle, but having a third party say it to me like this was reassuring—I guess it made me feel a little less guilty about having had no contact for a week.
It was too bad that didn’t really provide any guidance for me on how to atone for my rushed behavior the morning after sex. Or if I even needed to—you do, don’t pretend like you don’t.
“I guess that makes sense,” I said, the motorcycles now almost in full view. “You’re pretty wise, you know.”
“Hah, thank you, but I am no wise man. I simply pause, clear my mind, and think—”
BANG BANG BANG!
The gunfire erupted in our direction, and I quickly hit the deck, grabbing Father Marcellus and pulling him to the ground.
“Fuck!”
Father Marcellus just growled. I pulled out my pistol and looked over the chair, but we had two massive fucking problems. One, our bikes were too far away to provide real cover. And two, it was us against what looked like six.
