“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” Illias didn’t wait for the opening line from Cantrell. “It’s been a while since my last confession, I haven’t been keeping track. I admit to the following sins. Well,sin, really.”
There was a light coyness to his words which roused an old desire lying dormant beneath the surface of all that Cantrell was. All that he tried to be.
Cantrell willed himself to remain steadfast, to not bend so quickly to temptation. No matter what was said, he was a priest first and foremost. A man second. He would endure—he had no choice. “Proceed, my child.”
“I’m sure you remember my first confession, don’t you, Father?”
“I do.” The memory was more vivid than he cared to admit, playing in his mind when he could not sleep.
“I’m afraid your advice didn’t help much. I tried to turn to scripture but all I could think about was his voice in my ear, reciting the most perverted lines from the Bible as his hands explored my body. And I tried not to give in like you said, but Father—”
A low groan sounded from the other side of the wall. Cantrell’s breath hitched at the noise. He closed his eyes and tightened his grip on his rosary, willing himself to focus on his position as Illias’ priest. Nothing more.
“I couldn’t help but to touch myself. Tosuccumbto the desires of the flesh.”
The sound of Cantrell’s own words from their previous confession repeated back to him was dizzying. Lust crowded his mind, curled in his gut, clawed up his throat, until it consumed him whole. His body ached with it.
“What should I do, Father?” Illias asked, feigning an innocent tone that made fire lick up Cantrell’s spine.
His voice caught in his throat. What could he say when his body and mind were tormented by the same sin? When he himself struggled not to give in at the darkest hours of night? The dull corner of the cross on his rosary dug into the palm of his hand, bringing him back to his senses. “Self-pleasure isa sin in the eyes of God. The Bible warns against submitting to these types of temptations. That it may lead us down a dark and dangerous path of sin.”A path I left long ago that you are beckoning me towards. “I advise that you refrain from such an act and reflect on your past sins so as to not repeat them again.”
There was a soft, breathless chuckle that hinted at what kind of man Cantrell was dealing with. “I will certainly try, but I make no promises.”
The little brat. Cantrell bit his tongue before it got the better of him. “For penance, you are to recite the prayer from Psalms 51 and contemplate on how to align yourself with the Lord’s path through two rosary prayers.”
“Is that all?” Illias quipped, a slight pout in his tone as if expecting more.
Cantrell clenched his jaw, focused on the pain of the cross’s points digging into his palm. God Almighty, how Illias tested him. Provoked him. Pulled him ever closer to the precipice of temptation. Has he always been this easy? This weak?
“If punishment is what you seek, I can provide it.” The words left him before he truly thought of the implication behind them. Fear that he opened a door that he would not be able to close wrapped around his lungs and held tight.
“Perhaps another time.”
Cantrell could almost see the smirk that Illias wore so well. The one that lured him that night. He spoke in a tight, rough voice, “I absolve you of your sins, may you go in peace.”
“Have a blessed night, Father.”
Cantrell listened to the hushed sliding of the booth door as Illias left. He waited until the familiar soft thud of the church doors met his ears before he let out a long sigh. He bent at the waist, bringing the rosary to his lips. God save him. He listened to more than his fair share of men and women admitting to feelings of lust and self-pleasure. None had tempted Cantrell.None made him crave the sweet taste of sin. So why, pray tell, did Illias’ confession evoke such a feeling?
Slowly, he unfurled his fingers from around the cross of his rosary. The palm of his hand was red and angry with small fading points of white where the corners had bit into his skin. Testament to his steadfastness. He did not give into the temptation dangled in front of him like the apple in front of Adam. All was not lost. Not yet.
Chapter Eight
Illias
“There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able.”
- 1 Corinthians 10:13 KJV
Illias thought he had seen everything the quiet little bar had to offer after working there for nearly two months. With the usuals that came in every night like clockwork and the college students that flocked to the only bar in town, Nirvana’s had a consistent crowd that didn’t provide much entertainment. At least, that’s what Illias thought until his coworker, Jasmine, inadvertently started a pool tournament on a rather slow Friday night.
She acted as the unofficial score keeper. While perched on one of the few high-top tables, she created a bracket sheet on her server pad and kept track of each game. She called out violationsto the official rules of billiards—Illias never knew there wereactualrules until she spent nearly an hour explaining them—and illegal shots. Watching the crowd boo or cheer in favor of each call provided some of the best in-house entertainment Illias could’ve asked for on a Friday.
Despite the majority of the night’s crowd surrounding the pool tables, there were still enough patrons to keep Illias busy at the bar. He refilled drinks, placed orders, and ran the occasional plate of wings or fries out to the floor. Between the busy minutes, Illias flirted with anyone that showed an inkling of interest. However, flirting with strangers wasn’t nearly as fun as it was prior to meeting Cantrell. Flirting became a desperate attempt at finding a stand-in for the person Illias really wanted.
There wassomethingabout the priest that Illias couldn’t shake. Like an invisible string that tied them together. Illias ran his fingers through his hair with a small sigh. He felt ridiculous for being hung up on someone he knew he would never have. As much fun as it was to use the confession just to tease Cantrell, Illias knew he needed to be realistic. Nothing would ever come of their little back and forth. Cantrell wouldn’t suddenly decide to break his vows just for a little fun. Much less consider anything beyond that.
Illias froze in front of the tabs. Did he want more than a simple one-off with Cantrell? He scoffed at the thought then proceeded to pull the beer a customer asked for. Illias Koller did not date. His track record of casual flings and situationships that went on for way too long was proof of that. Besides, even if he did date, he barely knew Cantrell. Still a small piece of Illias hurt when he thought about being with anyone else. Almost like a thorn in his side. Not painful enough to warrant its immediate removal but enough to let him know it’s there. Planted between his ribs.
