Chapter 32
Itook the weekend to stew in my failures. No matter what avenue I tried, there was nothing available for Sayuri or her child. The reality was that Kaito likely made more money and provided greater stability in the eyes of the courts.
Therefore, Sayuri would be back at square freaking one if I even managed to get a lawyer to take her case. Jerry was looking into the safety protocols that helped abused women. It was truly pathetic that the lack of help innocent women had in this world.
I tried to call Miranda of all people, despite my personal grievances, but that conversation worked out about as well as I figured.
“Hello? Who is this?”
“Good evening, Miranda. I am sorry to bother you, I was hoping you would be able to…”
“I don’t want whatever you’re sellin’—”
“No, please don’t hang up! It’s Jedidiah!”
“Who?”
I didn’t get the word Father out of my mouth before she blew some sort of air horn in the phone and hung up.
After that, I spent the rest of the day with a migraine. “What?”
Anytime Sayuri’s soft-spoken voice tried to speak to me.
“Today is a new day, Jed.”
I wasn’t the best at pep talks, but my mother used to give herself little encouragement speeches before she went to work…granted that was because she worked as a hooker and was raped daily, but…it was the thought that counts, right?
Sayuri was running errands for the upcoming snowstorm, and I was preparing dinner for us when she got back.
The parish phone rang, and I jumped toward it, expecting to hear Sayuri’s soft voice on the other line, but it was the Bishop instead.
“Bishop Matthews? How can I help you?”
“A wolf has been taking livestock,” he said to me, no nonsense. “The farmers are restless. We must show leadership in this time of peril. With the storm fast approaching, I need this nuisance taken care of immediately. Can I count on you, Father Franklin?
He was asking the question, but I knew I didn’t have a choice in the matter.
Leadership…that was one word for it.
‘Be my bitch’ was another.
“Actually, Bishop, I have a—”
“You’ll handle it,” he continued, cutting me off. “And I have arranged a companion as well to go with you.”
Oh god. Please don’t say it was him.
“Oh, that’s kind of you, Bishop.”
He let me squirm. “Who?”
“Your acolyte. You are supposed to guide her to the good lord after all.”
I didn’t ask why because if I asked why, he’d see that I cared.
And I never wanted him to see that.
She was waiting by my truck when I ended the call. She had a rifle already slung over her shoulder, her dark hair tucked beneath a knit cap, and gloves fitted tight around her wrists.
I smiled at her through the window and waved.
I didn’t know how long this shit would take, so I packaged our dinner and headed for the door.
“You look prepared,” I said, popping open the door and setting the food bag down.
She glanced at me with an unreadable expression. This is how she’d looked at me ever since the day at the church in the playhouse.
Maybe I pushed her too far.
“You look tense.”
“It’s cold.”
I studied her frosty posture for a second and shook my head sadly. “Yeah. It is.”
We drove in silence to the edge of the pastureland where the forest began. Snow covered everything, and the wind was already picking up. The snow dusted the fence posts, frozen troughs, and the hoof prints from cattle that had clustered too close to the barns.
“Let’s go talk to the farmer, try to understand a bit about the danger.”
Sayuri nodded and followed me to the farmhouse.
The wolf didn’t seem all that bad from the stories. It was likely hungry from the lack of food due to the freeze, and if a cheeseburger were sitting around for it to take, it would be hard to resist when starving.
The farmer showed me the carcass earlier that morning, and Sayuri opted to stay inside the truck.
Clean throat tear, with most of everything eaten to the bone.
Efficient.
Not rabid or frenzied.
It just wanted to survive.
After finishing up with the farmer, I got back into the truck and gave Sayuri the details.
Driving to the woods felt…wrong.
By the time we reached the area where the wolf had last been spotted, the snow was falling in a steady blanket of white.
We stepped into the tree line, and Sayuri sighed.
“Is this what your job is? Killing a Mortiferal for acting like a Mortiferal?”
Snow muffled our footsteps, and I sighed. “A predator, Sayuri. We are hunting a predator.”
The world felt empty of sound, except for the wind pushing through the branches overhead, and Sayuri walked in front of me.
“At least the wolf doesn’t wear sheep’s clothing,”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She gave me the silent treatment for a while, and I cleared my throat, trying to make conversation. I kept the branches away from her, pushing them back to allow her through.
“You’ve hunted before? You seem to know how to handle a gun.”
Sayuri examined the weapon and shook her head. “Yes and no.”
Irritated that she wanted to play this game, I pressed the matter.
“What do you mean by ‘yes and no’? Yes, you’ve hunted before…”
“No.”
I was getting another migraine.
“Sayuri, why can’t you just answer it like a normal person? Besides, have you gone hunting before?”
“No, ōkami. I have not. I do, however, know how to handle a gun. This is not a gun. It’s a Winchester Model 70 with a scope.”
I balked at her. Women didn’t know about guns, much less their models.
How did she know that information?
“Before you ask, my…husband taught me about a lot of weapons. I remember them.”
“Your husband?” I repeated stupidly.
“Yes. He is dead.”
Dead? She didn’t mean Kaito?
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“He wasn’t a good person. I am not sorry.”
Well then. No love lost.
“Did you go hunting with him?”
“No.”
Now, I was confused.
“Then…why did he teach you about guns?”
Sayuri was thoughtful when she answered a moment later. “Safety of his business.”
“What did he do?”
Another thought-out response.
“He was in charge of a company.”
Hmm. That was odd. Maybe he worked for a company that sold art or other valuable items that required high security.
“When he died. His brother took over the business.” She said simply, breaking any way to pester her further.
So her husband died, and his brother took over. Then she became pregnant.
Hell, her backstory was as sticky as mine.
A weird spike of jealousy flooded through, and I couldn’t help but ask.
“You miss it?”
“The company?”
“No. Him.”
She didn’t answer immediately, and we walked a few more steps. Her boots were smaller than mine. And she stepped carefully inside my prints when the snow deepened.
“I don’t miss being afraid,” she said finally.
That made me look at her.
“Afraid of what?”
She met my gaze briefly. “You ask questions like you don’t already understand fear and know the answers already.”
“He hurt you. Like Kaito. Why stay?”
Sayuri shook her head.
“My life was not simple. Leaving meant death, Jedidiah. I have never wanted to die. I want to live, or die trying.”
I gripped my rifle tighter and nodded.
She went from one monster to his brother.
“I’m sorry. You are safe now, you know. You hold the weapon. Not them.”
Sayuri looked down at her gun and smiled weakly.
“Perhaps for the moment. Thank you, Jed.”
We found the tracks about twenty minutes in.
Sayuri told me about growing up in Japan and her pet toad, who she named Stump. I had her laughing with my many stories of Rocky the ball python, and our laughter kept us warm.
She let me loop my hand into hers, and even cuddled into my side the further we walked.
Howls sounded in the distance, cutting off our conversation, and I looked down.
Large.
Deep.
Fresh.
I crouched down, brushing snow from the edges with my glove. “He’s strong.”
“You assume it’s male.”
“Most territorial attacks are.”
She studied the prints, too. “Maybe she is just hungry.”
“No. A lone wolf doesn’t just attack livestock for weeks. It’s marking the land.”
“Then why risk coming this close to farm houses?”
“Because he can.”
Her eyes lifted to mine, full of sloppy confidence. Predators that knew they could get away with it were the most dangerous.
We followed the trail deeper.
“You ever think about leaving?” she said suddenly.
“Leaving what?”
“All of it…”
The church. The collar. The illusion.
I exhaled through my nose. “And go where? What do I have without my collar?”
“Freedom.”
“You speak like a dreamer, babe. Have you tried these big dreams?”
“I have.”
“And?”
Her mouth curved faintly, and her hand went to her neck. “Never mind, I suppose no one can truly outrun their leash….”
That felt too direct.
“I’m not running,” I said. “ I chose to take my vows.”
“No,” she agreed. “You’re hiding.”
The accusation slipped between us like thin ice, and we kept walking. The tracks veered left toward a narrow ravine where trees thickened, and the wind died down.
“Careful,” I murmured. “If he’s smart, he’ll circle back.”
“Are you hoping she does?” she said.
I looked at her sharply. “Why would I care about that?”
“So you have an excuse.”
“For what?”
“To stop pretending you’re gentle and finish it off.”
The words hit harder than the cold.
“You think I’m pretending to care?” I said. “Contrary to your beliefs, I don’t want to shoot the stupid wolf.”
“I think you’ve convinced yourself you care when really you are as wild and blood thirsty as it is…so you hide so no one can see your true self.”
We reached the edge of the ravine and paused, and I scanned the treeline.
“You really think that?”
Nothing moved, and she didn’t answer.
“Stay close,” I said quietly.
“I am.”
She was. Too close in fact to long hidden truths. We descended carefully. Snow thinned under the trees, revealing dirt and scattered pine needles.
The tracks were clearer here.
The wolf had slowed down. He knew this ground. He felt safe.
“You’re quiet,” she observed.
“Shh. I’m listening.”
“For her?”
“For everything.”
She studied my profile as we walked. I could feel it. Every step of her scrutiny, trying to peel back my carefully crafted mask.
“You don’t walk like a priest, ya know,” she said.
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. How does a priest walk?”
“I don’t know. With a purpose and boisterously confident.”
“And I don’t?”
“No.”
I almost laughed. “Okay, princess, how do I walk then?”
She thought for a bit. “Like the predator you are hunting. Quiet, calculating, and patient.”
The honesty in that answer crumbled more of my disguise.
We followed the ravine until it opened into a small clearing sheltered by rock on one side and dense trees on the other.
A natural waiting place where we could drink the hot chocolate I brought and eat the sandwiches.
“He’ll pass through here,” I said. “Good cover. Limited exit points. At least we can warm up with the hot chocolate.”
“You sound so sure of yourself, Jedidiah..”
“I am just like him, remember?”
She narrowed her eyes for a moment and then laid the rifle down beside her.
We positioned ourselves near a fallen log, setting up the small picnic and heating our hands with the warm mug.
“Is the safety on?” I said.
“Yes. I’m not a moron.”
I snickered and kept going.”Finger off the trigger unless you’re ready.”
“I know, Jed.”
I scooted closer to her, close enough that our shoulders brushed each other.
The world went still when I was around her, and my brain was focused less on the hunt and more on the beautiful woman in front of me.
Waiting does strange things to a man’s mind.
“You ever regret it?” she said quietly while I was just pining over her delicious body.
“Regret what?”
“Choosing this life.”
The question lingered. Why did she care about my title so much all of a sudden?
I decided to answer truthfully.
“Yes,” I admitted.
Her eyes shifted to me.
“But not for the reasons you think.”
“Then why?”
“Because it doesn’t erase what came before the collar.”
She didn’t look surprised but rather thoughtful.
“Who were you before you took your vows, Junshin?”
I cleared my throat, trying to stop eye fucking her.
“A man.”
Her musical laugh didn’t help the boner situation, and I waited for her to continue with her peppered questioning.
“You think killing this wolf makes you righteous? Are you following God’s will? Taking a life to save another’s?” she said.
“No. It makes the farmers safe.”
“That’s not what I said.”
I held her gaze.
“No,” I said. “It doesn’t make me righteous.”
A branch snapped somewhere in the trees. Both of us stilled, and she started to reach for the rifle smoothly, but there was nothing there. It was just a bird or a squirrel.
Sayuri laughed and started to lower the gun.
“Here’s another question, Jedidiah,” she said, and I didn’t see her coming. “Do you always underestimate your prey?”
One second, she was sitting on the snow bank beside me, and the next, she was straddling my lap with the rifle pointed right in my face.