Phoenix brushed his dark hair off his face, smile widening. “I’m fine, Da—Father. I swear.” He went to rise, and I cupped his elbow in a gentle grasp as I helped him stand, and he wobbled but steadied. Rubbing his hand over his stomach, he shook his head. “I’ve had worse.”
That didn’t make me feel any better. He shouldn’t be attackedat all, and it didn’t matter if his abusive ex-Daddy beat him harder. Iwouldbe calling Ric about this. Hitting me was one thing, but hurting one of the people in my church was something I wasn’t going to tolerate, especially if Ric wanted to keep a low profile for what they were doing with their dirty money.
“I’m sorry, Phoenix. I promised to protect you and I let Toma do this.” Anger struck me and my blood boiled. It wasn’t often I felt this kind of fury, but Toma had never taken it this far, either. “It won’t happen again. I’ll make sure of it.”
He blinked up at me with wide eyes—the shimmering, multicolored orbs a marvel to stare at—and his smile widened into a full-blown grin. He slid his hands into mine, squeezing them reassuringly. “I trust you, Father.”
That was the problem.
In less than twenty-four hours I’d learned Phoenix trusted too easily. It was as though he was truly innocent, and it was the opposite reaction I’d seen from abused women I’d helped. They didn’t trust me until weeks after they’d met me, if ever, while Phoenix told me secrets within minutes. It was dangerous to be that open.
“Toma is a cruel man,” I said, not sure what else to say while he held my hands so tightly. “He’s my cousin, and I wish I could lead him to God, but he has rejected religion.”
Phoenix’s eyes widened. “I thought he must be related to you. You look a lot alike.”
“Unfortunately.” I bowed my head. “I have a big family. I’m Italian.”
“Oh.” He slid his tongue over his lips, and I focused on the movement, because while I was a priest who’d made promises, I was still a man. Still human. I’d learned not to act on my passions, though. As far as I was concerned, Phoenix was a test. He was beautiful, with his creamy skin, big eyes, and delectable, full mouth, and he was sent to me from God to guide me through the trial of temptation. I wasn’t going to fail. “Thank you, Father.”
My belly turned warm, and a strange electric feeling slithered its way through my body, heading south. “You’re welcome.”
A knock on the door made me jump slightly, and I turned as Sister Joan entered the office. She gave us a friendly smile and clasped her hands in front of herself respectfully. Some of her blonde curls had fallen out of the tight bun she kept them in, and the glow of the office lights made the light freckles across her nose noticeable. “I hope I didn’t interrupt. I came to check if everything was okay with Phoenix, but did I hear that Tommaso was here?”
Fuck.I glanced toward the desk, which currently hid three bags of money Toma had left. When I turned back to Phoenix I gave him my best smile and took my hands from his to lay them on his shoulders. “Can you go back to the hall and continue folding? I need to speak to Sister Joan alone.”
His hesitation had my heart hurting, but when he gave me a nod, I sighed in relief. He left the office, but not before gently closing the door behind himself with another small grin. I waited, making sure he’d actually left, before I turned to Sister Joan.
Holding out my hand to her, I walked around the desk, and she followed with her flat black shoes padding on the rich red carpeted floor. She stopped when her attention landed on the bags, and as much as she obviously tried not to smile, her delight broke across her face anyway.
“I told Ric I didn’t want to do it, but you know what he’s like,” I whispered, afraid Phoenix was listening at the door. “He always gets his way.”
“Of course he does. He’s one of the dons of the family. He runs this parish more than the mayor.” She crossed her arms and stared at the black duffels of cash. “Same take as usual?”
It was hard to begrudge Sister Joan for her involvement because she helped me keep what we were doing quiet, and nuns took a pledge priests never had to—one of poverty. But Sister Joan also had a sick mamma, who needed hospital care, which Joan couldn’t afford without her share of the money that Ric gave us for laundering his profits. I could say a lot of negative things about Ric, but he was generous, and we both received fifty grand from a haul like this, which was more than my yearly salary. Money had never interested me, but I took the cash in case there came a time I needed it to help someone or if a project fell short at the church. I tried to convince myself that doing good deeds with bad money was okay, and for the most part it worked.
I didn’t have any other choice, anyway.
“Fifty,” I said, falling into my seat and sighing. I pinched the bridge of my nose and cursed my family for putting me in this position, which wasn’t very priestly of me.
She laid her hand on my shoulder, and I glanced up at her. “I know how you feel about this, Father Gian.” Her mouth twisted. “But he leaves us twenty for the church, which helps many people.”
It was ironic the church only got twenty grand dedicated to it from Ric—while Joan and I got fifty each—but he knew people. He’d always done his research and somehow learned Sister Joan needed the money. Despite growing up in a rich lifestyle, these days I tried to live within my means, but I always hid money away for a rainy day. The cold truth was he knew I couldn’t resist keeping a portion of the cut, and he wanted to rub my nose in my own weakness and my lack of faith in God to provide for needs as they arose.
I stared at the duffels and sighed again. Ric would kill me if I didn’t take the money and launder it through the church. He cared about family, but that only went so far. “Okay, we’ll do it the same as before,” I said, although, it felt like my voice wasn’t my own and I was having an out-of-body experience. “We’ll put the money in the collection account over a few months and pay Ric’s construction company to do work that never gets done—maybe the roof this time. Hell, maybe we’ll actually have him do it. It might be time for repairs anyway. He can also take care of that—” I pointed over my shoulder at the damaged mural. “—since Toma cracked the drywall. Let Ric overcharge for the problem he caused.” My gaze slid to her kind face. “Are you going to handle the treasury?”
“Don’t I always?” She patted me on the shoulder. “Marianna is a good woman, and she’d never question the word of her priest and a nun. It’ll be fine, Father Gian.”
It wasn’t Marianna, our treasurer and faithful parishioner, I was worried about—this was a sin in God’s eyes. We were stealing and lying, and the money might even be connected to murder.
Sister Joan collected the bags and heaved them up to carry. “Father, you go home. You’ve done enough already and have to be back tonight. I’m guessing Toma didn’t bring these bags without some fight.”
I held back a snort; she knew him well.
“Take that sweet boy in the other room to go get something to eat. I know someone who’s been hurt when I see them.” Her expression turned sad. “He needs food and good rest, and I trust no one but you to give him what he needs.”
If only she knew the truth about me. Sure, she was aware of Ric and the rest of my family, and who they really were, but she didn’t know me before the accident. She had no idea I was a sinner in every way I could think of, including who I took to my bed and what I did to them—I fucked men and sent them on their way, as though they were nothing more than an itch to scratch. Feelings were often hurt. My past was a series of nightmares I couldn’t escape.
I smiled at her the same way I had for the last five years I’d been at this church. “Thank you, Sister Joan.”
