His eyes leave mine and follow my movements. “You forced me.”
I lift his chin with my other hand, commanding him to keep his gaze on me. “Again, tell yourself whatever makes you feel okay. You were the one thrusting, moaning, enjoying it all like a little slut.”
“I’m not a slut!” His eyes blaze with anger.
I chuckle. “You aremylittle slut, Aingeal. Just give it time.”
He breaks my hold on him, stepping back and shaking his head like he’s trying to convince himself he’s not into me or our night of pleasure.
“You need to leave Declan. Leave me alone. I told you before I won’t tell anyone, but I can’t support who you are or what you’ve done.”
The face I adore seems haunted. Like he’s fighting his true emotions. Fine, if he wants me gone, then I’ll be gone. Of course I won’t be. Not really. I’ll go back to stalking him like before.No more confessions. Nothing. I’ll bide my time because I know from the way he looks at me, he doesn’t want me to go forever.
“Fine. I’ll leave you alone,Ewen. I’ll give you what you want.”
I do the same thing I did earlier, I walk away without looking back. Just like he did to me not twenty minutes ago.
My Aingealwillcome back to me.
It’s been three damn weeks since I agreed to Ewen’s demands to leave him alone. I’m not a fan of it, either.
I know there’s nothing between us other than that night and me being a creep, but I was happy with our short interactions. Where he spoke to only me. Had his eyes locked on me. I felt special for those few interactions. Now, I just feel…rejected. Abandoned. Lost.
These aren’t normal feelings for me. I’ve always been very self-assured. Maybe Ewen wasn’t the only one affected and not admitting things to themselves. I don’t like that I’ve had to return to the shadows.
I liked having his sole focus. Fuck, what I wouldn’t do for one of those smiles to be directed at me.
My stalking has given me insight into who Ewen is as a man. He owns jazz records and boring history books. But, like, who is he deep down? What does he dream about? To know everything about him is my true goal.
Fiona has been casually seeing his doctor friend. Maybe that’s how I get back in his good graces—make nice with his buddy.
No, Caleb isn’t how Iwantto go about it, but it might be my only option. Maybe if I’m friendly with Dr. Dorky, I can find a way to be with Ewen.
Yes, I call myself the Devil. Probably the closest thing to him on this Earth. I kill with no emotions. I show no mercy, nor have I ever felt an ounce of sorrow or regret over what I do. Can a priest and the Devil be friends?
12
EWEN
I’m beyond exhausted. This month has been busy. Between my normal daily tasks at the parish, I added a confirmation class for the teens in the neighborhood, doubled our days with the soup kitchen, and worked on fixing up the gardens any free moment I have.
It’s paying off. The neighborhood has been more alive. Our attendance has multiplied for Sunday Mass. More people are coming in for confessions. We’re slowly turning this lonely, old congregation into what it was in its glory days. It’s becoming a place everyone is proud to be a part of.
Beocca greets me the moment I walk in. He rubs against my legs, begging for me to give him what he wants. I swoop him up in my arms and hold him baby style to give belly rubs while walking to the kitchen. His treats are stored on top of the fridge in a tin. It’s the only place he can’t get to them. He’s a vulture for these things and has been known to eat a whole package if he can access them. The second I grab the canister he jumps from my arms and starts circling while meowing loudly.
Dumping the treats into my hand I see the tin’s almost empty. I swear I just bought more the other day. There’s no wayI’ve given him that many. “Has someone learned to get up on the fridge?” I ask. He responds with a blink.
I know he didn’t. He doesn’t have the thumbs to open the container. Maybe I have been giving him more than usual and didn’t notice because of how busy I am.
Clearly I need to pay more attention to how much he gets. I don’t want him to be overweight.
I leave him to his treats and head to the bathroom. I need to wash away the day. I’ve been so busy that even my prayers haven’t been done as often. I make a mental note to read a couple extra passages in my Bible tonight. I have read it so many times I could quote it front to back, but the continuous reading keeps it fresh. It also helps me find topics to talk about during Mass.
The water takes forever to warm up—one of the downsides of living in an older place. Still worth it to be here, though, at my favorite church. I never thought I would be in the same place I visited while in college. At the time, it was the closest parish, and the gothic style was just a bonus.
Taking off my clerical collar, I set it to the side on a shelf. The rest of my clothes I shed and throw in a pile. Stepping into the shower, the heat of the water instantly begins to dull the ache of my muscles.
I let the warmth and the sound of it falling lull my mind into silence. Closing my eyes, I savor the moment. I rarely get moments of complete silence so I give my mind time to wander. A moment to be free.
