“May you go in peace.”
Cantrell listened to Illias leave and waited until the doors echoed in the nave before he allowed himself to relax. He uncurled his hands and looked down at the angry red crescent moons indented in his palms. But more than just his palms ached.
Chapter Fourteen
Illias
“Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.”
- John 14:27 KJV
Nothing was worse than edging. Denial, Illias could handle all day long. Being able to touch himself but not allowed to come? Torture. Cruel and unusual punishment. Illias didn’t even bother taking care of his morning wood—well, afternoon wood, considering he didn’t wake up before two most days—since doing so would only make him more frustrated than not doing anything at all. To make matters worse, his days were melding together from lack of sleep.
The time between Tuesday and early Sunday morning all melted together in a blur of reckless flirtation and Maverick scolding him for spending too much time with certaincustomers. Illias didn’t slip off with any more customers though. Not after Cantrell caught Illias coming out of the bathroom and branded him with a hickey so dark it was only just now fading.
Somewhere between being unconscious and partially awake, Illias groaned softly at the memory of Cantrell’s teeth against his neck. He rolled over to face the back of the couch, subconsciously grinding against the cushion. Maybe if he could relieve himself then he could actually get some sleep.Fuck the penance, he thought, slipping his hand down his pants. His mind replayed the night Cantrell caught him at the bar. How close they had been to doing something right then and there. Illias wondered what would have happened if Maverick hadn’t interrupted. Maybe Cantrell would’ve kissed Illias with the desperation of a starved man. Or maybe Cantrell would’ve lingered just out of reach so that Illias begged for something as simple as a kiss.
A knock pierced the air and jerked him violently from his fantasies. He swore as he got off the couch and wrapped the blanket around him. Ready to rip into whoever had disturbed him, he yanked open the door. Bright, hot sunlight killed any colorful words he was ready to spit before they reached his tongue. “Jesus fuck—” He shielded his eyes only to see Charity standing on his steps. “Oh, hey.”
“Oh hey? That’s the greeting I get after you don’t answer my texts all morning?” She pushed her way into his house as if she owned the place.
“What happened toare you okay, Eli?How are you, Eli?” he grumbled, closing the door and going back to the couch.
“My sincerest apologies.” Charity rolled her eyes. “I’ve got other things on my mind, like figuring out why”—she held up a folded piece of paper and shook it—“I got handedthisby ourpriest.”
Illias’ blood ran cold.
“Eli, what in God’s name is this?”
His mouth filled with sand. “I don’t know, Charity, what is it?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why is Father Cantrell giving you notes?” Illias opened his mouth to answer and she held up a finger, silencing him. “And the truth, Eli.”
“I honestly don’t know. But,” he added, holding out his hand, “if you let me see it, I can tell you.”
Charity handed the note over to him but there was a reservation in her movements, like she didn’t trust him to tell her the truth. He snatched the note from between her fingers, scared she’d withhold and open it herself.
Illias,
I pray you are well and whatever has prevented you from attending today does not deter your future attendance. If you find that you are unable to attend service, the rite of confession is always available. On Tuesdays, I am in the booth all day. Father Rier is available on Fridays if you would feel more comfortable with him.
- Father Cantrell
“Illias,” Charity deadpanned from behind him, causing him to jump. “Why is Father Cantrell passing you notes over one missed Mass?”
When he didn’t provide an answer, she lifted herself over the back of the couch and fell into the cushion next to him.
“Gymnastics paid off well,” he choked out in a half-hearted attempt to divert the conversation.
“Eli, you have to be honest with me. What is going on? You’ve been acting weird at church, weirder than normal. And you look awful.”
“Geez, thanks for your love and support.”
Her expression softened. “Dude, I’m worried about you. I’ve barely heard from you and just want to know what’s going on soI can help.” She looked down at her hands and whispered, “I…I don’t want to lose you again.”
He frowned, realizing how much he must’ve been worrying her because he was being a tad self-absorbed. He nudged her with his elbow. “You’re not going to lose me again, promise. I’ve just been…preoccupied, so to speak.”
“Are you sure that’s it?” She glanced at him. “I talked to your mom and she said you’ve been a little short with her lately too.”
