I’d suspected the gift of a phone came with strings attached. I should have known that he meant to keep a close eye on me. But why? I was married to the rival family. Did he think I wouldrenege on our contract? A rough laugh barked in my throat. That was the plan, but not because I meant to cause trouble for Don Morelli.
No, when I left, it was because I would be free, truly free of everything.
Closing my journal, I tapped out a short, precise reply.
Me: I’m a McDonagh now. They attend church at St. Patrick’s. I’ll be seeing the priest there for confessions.
Had my father been speaking with our minister about the conversations we had under the sacred veil of confession? It wouldn’t surprise me.
Good thing I never told Father Giacomo anything.
While I had no intentions of going to confession now that I wasn’t under the thumb of my parents, I debated the wisdom of defying that unspoken order. Papa was tracking me. He would see that I never went to mass—that I never took the phone anywhere.
I was going to have to take the damn thing places. Or he would know that I was onto him. He must think I was pretty dumb if I hadn’t figured that out based on his text.
I can work with this.
Just like I planned to manipulate Liam’s soldiers, I could also juggle my father. And that was better than open defiance. Papa might be bold enough to take his displeasure out on me. If not, he would take it out on my mother. Maybe my sisters.
Closing my journal with a snap, I rose and walked to the baddy with runes. “I’m done here, Jacob. But how far is the church?”
His confusion was priceless.
***
St. Patrick’s was twice the size of our local church. As we marched into the sanctuary, I was struck by the size andwondered why we didn’t have the wedding here. It would have been far more comfortable given the amount of the Irish mobsters who’d turned out to see their masked prince tie the knot.
Father Rowan rose from the pew where he’d been bent in prayer. He came over to introduce himself and led me to a confessional booth.
I slipped inside, letting the confines of the box envelope me. A few minutes later, the panel slid back and the holy rite began.
“And what sins do you wish to confess, my child?” the priest asked softly.
Chewing on my lip, I considered how best to play this. While a Man of God shouldn’t reveal anything that was spoken in here, I knew better than to trust him.
He was Irish after all.
The sooner I discovered whether he was a spy for Liam, the better.
“I stole a hundred dollars from my father’s nightstand,” I blurted out. “But I don’t think I’m sorry for it.”
There was no gasp of shock, only quiet understanding. “Do you wish to elaborate? Perhaps I can help guide you through that misdeed?”
“Well, there weren’t any groceries in our house, and I haven’t seen my husband to discuss shopping. Since I didn’t have any money of my own, I took it to feed myself.” There. I kind of hoped the information did find its way to Liam.
It would serve him right to hear from his local religious authority that his husbandly duty of providing had been found lacking on the most basic level.
“Since that is the case, I’ll assign you ten Hail Maries in penance,” Father Rowan said not unkindly. “What other sins plague your heart, my daughter?”
An image from the park flitted through my mind. The smile, the responding rush of human nature over the small interaction—it hurt. Badly. While I’d never confided any details of my greatest sin, I wanted the healing that came from a true confession to my heartache.
“I confess to the sin of envy,” I whispered, unable to stop myself. “Not of anything in particular,” I added hurriedly. “Just that my life is not my own, and the things I want seem out of my reach.”
Father Rowan was silent for a moment. “This is a tricky one. Being envious of others can lead to two paths. On the first, we act in ways that are wrong to take what we desire. But on the second, that is more thought-provoking. A mental exercise, if you will. When challenged properly, envy can drive us to do things, to seek out opportunities, to better accomplish goals.”
“Like manifesting the life we want?” I leaned closer, straining to catch what he said.
No one had ever taken the time to talk to me like this.
