Chapter 39
After all these years, I’m finally going to see him.
My trainer. My maker.
I can’t lie; I’m a little tense about it. Stressed, I’d dare to say.
While I was gone, hiding, my cousin trained me as Grayson took the heat and covered for me back home. That man has done more for me than most fathers ever would. Not mine—just … in general. A regular kind of dad.
He paid for my college as if he believed I could walk a straight line. He thought an everyday life might fix something in me. I hated it, but I showed up anyway for him. I worked jobs I didn’t care about and studied things that meant nothing.
So, by day, I was just another kid with books and bills, trying to look the part. And by night, I was in the dirt with my ex-military cousin, learning how to move like a snake and hit like a beast. Just an animal that learned how to wear a human face.
I owe Grayson a lot. But I owe my cousin way more.
My temper, my ability to kill without a shred of remorse … all of that comes from him. He’s the one who taught me how to handle an axe, and not just for chopping wood. He turned it into an art. Something brutal. Something precise.
After a couple of hours’ drive, I’m finally outside his new house.
House. How pathetic.
“Is this the one, boss?” Landon asks, scanning the place. I nod. He usually drives, but today, I felt like taking the wheel.
I turn off my SUV’s engine, and for a moment, I stare at the church. The place seems quiet and peaceful, just as every church should.
“Do you think he’s hiding here?” he asks again.
“I know he’s here.”
I step outside and take off my sunglasses, scanning the place for potential threats. It seems clear. “Stay here.”
My cousin has done a decent job hiding behind that collar. Playing priest. Pretending he’s something clean. But I know better. I know what he is. He’s a Manson, just like me.
As I inhale my smoke, I raise my eyes and look at the imposing cathedral. The sun is still bright on my head, making my eyes squint as I observe the building.
This church seems too peaceful and pure for someone like me. I’ll probably burn to ashes the moment I step foot into it. Either that, or I’ll contaminate every inch of this giant place.
Here I am, standing at the door of God’s house, ready to drag one of His loyal little servants back into the dirt where he came from.
How foolish of him to think he’s done with the dirt.
I enter the church, and as anticipated, it’s deserted. However, I know he’s here. I know he thinks he’s done with everything that burdens his filthy soul, though he spares no effort to conceal his true nature.
I stroll into the cavernous church and make my way to the right, where I find the confessionals.
I enter the right booth—such irony—and take a seat.
I sit in silence until the small panel slides open with a soft scrape.
“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and the Holy Spirit …”
A low chuckle escapes, too hard to hold back. If my stepping into His house is ironic, then his pretending to be a priest is blasphemy. But who am I to judge?
Let’s start with the basics.
“Forgive me, Father, for I’ve sinned,” I say, crossing my legs.
“How long has it been since your last confession?”
“Oh, I wish I could tell you a date, but that’d be a lie. And I hate liars.” I click my tongue. “So I’m gonna say never.”
He pauses for a few seconds and remains silent. I’m wondering if he’s recognized me already. If he remembers my voice.
“It’s never too late, my child. Even the darkest hearts can find their way back. If they want to.”
I try to choke my laughter this time. “You’re right.”
“I’m listening.”
I pull out my lighter and drag my thumb across the wheel. Sparks pop near my fingers. “I killed a man. Another one. Actually, I’ve lost count of how many lives I’ve taken.”
He clears his throat. “Why? Did you believe you had no other choice?”
I smile and keep my gaze on the sparks. “Oh, I had choices. I could’ve walked away.
I could’ve ignored the way their existence scraped at something inside me.
But I didn’t. I hunted them because their deaths filled me with control.
It’s the only time the noise in me shuts the hell up.
All that military training taught me to kill clean, quick, professional—like some noble soldier in a war.
” I pause for a few seconds, letting the silence stretch around us.
“Cute. But I didn’t want it clean. I wanted it messy; I wanted to feel every second of it.
I slit their throats, chopped off their heads, blew their skulls apart, and laughed as they choked on their blood, twitching until they finally gave up. ”
He’s silent for a moment as if he’s contemplating. Reminiscing. Then, he finally speaks again.
“God forgives even the darkest among us. But forgiveness doesn’t erase the past.” I hear the faint shift of cloth. “You say their deaths gave you peace?” I hum, agreeing with his statement. “Do you regret any of these actions?”
The answer is no—that’s a word that doesn’t exist in my vocabulary.
I ignite the flame, watch it burn, and stare into it. “Sometimes I wonder, Father. Do you really believe that all souls deserve to be saved? Even the darkest ones?”
He exhales slowly. “I believe so, yes. As long as you ask for forgiveness, His house and arms will always be open for you.”
I’m breaking through to him. I know it. I can feel it. “Do you believe you can actually escape the darkness and the void once it’s clawed inside you?”
He hesitates again. “No one escapes. We just learn to live with what we’ve let in.” He pauses. “Some of us try to make peace with it. Others … pretend the collar is enough.”
“Are you also a sinner, Father?”
“Aren’t we all?”
I straighten my leather jacket, pulling out my gun.
“Before I leave … may I know the name of the man who knows all of my dirty secrets and filthy truths?”
He hesitates yet again. “I’m Father Gabriel.”
“Gabriel.” I snigger, letting the name vibrate on my tongue for a bit longer. “How poetic … the archangel who delivered God’s most important messages with unwavering faith. Tell me, Father. Will you carry my secrets with the same devotion?”
“I am not God. I only listen.”
“So will you?” I growl.
“Your secrets are safe with me.”
I chuckle before getting up. “Well, it was a pleasure talking to you.”
“Any time.”
I step out of the booth and linger for a few seconds, holding my breath without making a sound. I want to see if the instincts are still there. If he remembers what it’s like to be alert all the time, or if he’s gotten rusty.
He mirrors my posture and remains silent.
He bores me to death.
I kick the door open and raise the gun, aiming it straight at him.
“Hello, cousin.” I smirk, cocking a brow. He’s not surprised at all. Good job.
“How dare you threaten me in my church?” he growls, standing and matching my height.
“Come on. Do you really feel threatened by this little thing? You?”
“Put it down before you make me forget I’m wearing this collar.”
“Ah, here he is! I knew you were still somewhere in there.”
“Put it down, Cain,” he repeats, locking his amber eyes on mine.
“Make me, Father,” I mock. I’m so close.
He holds his gaze on mine for a few seconds before he shakes his head. “You haven’t changed at all.”
Lazy motherfucker.
I need to take action. I move fast.
I lunge and land a punch right across his face. Finally, some life in him! He staggers, but then he’s up, fighting back. He grabs my wrist, twists, and rips the gun from my grip.
Now, it’s aimed at me.
A sinister smirk crosses my lips. “Welcome back, Beast.”
“Don’t call me that,” he hisses.
“On the contrary, Judas. You chained the beast inside you, and when it wakes again, it’ll be starving.”
“I said, don’t call me that.” He spins the gun by the trigger guard, letting it swing once around his finger before holding it out to me. “I’m not that person anymore.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” I take the gun. “A man of God lies in His own house. Such a disgrace, Father.” I fix my jacket. “You think growing your hair a little and shaving your face will make you a priest? You’re still the same bastard under that pathetic facade.”
“Language!” he says, making me chuckle. “How did you find me?” He cracks his neck and fixes his cassock.
I slide the gun back into the waistband of my belt. “We both know I am capable of finding everyone.” I take out a smoke and light it up.
He snatches it from my lips, throws it on the ground, and steps on it. “Not in here,” he grumbles.
“Relax, Father. The smoke won’t stain your precious walls any worse than your sins already have.” I take out one more and light it up again. I’m sure even he misses this habit, and I’m here to remind him who he is.
“What do you want from me? Why did you come?” he asks.
I exhale the smoke. “I want the best. I want the guy who never misses. Remember, Judas?” I tilt my head. “Remember what glorious training you and I went through? Don’t tell me you buried that savage man under this collar.”
He folds his hands in front of his lower abdomen. “I told you, I’m not that person anymore.”
“You can take the person out of the habit, but you can’t take the habit out of the person. You wear the collar, but the beast still breathes underneath. You are not a man of God like you want to pretend.” I toss my smoke on the ground. “You’re just hiding in His house.”
He looks at me without blinking. Steadily. Stealthily. “Now I am, and you’d better respect it.”
My eyes remain on him, and I hum. I turn toward the door, a smirk tugging at my lips. “You’re not a priest, Judas. You’re a coward in a robe.”
I amble away, exiting the building.
Outside, Landon is still waiting, leaning against my car and smoking.
“Did you find him?”
“Yes.” I enter the car and grab the wheel.
“He’s not coming with us?”
“Not yet.” I start the engine. “But he will. Eventually.”
He clears his throat. “By the way, have you seen Bruce? I haven’t seen him in a while.”
The name makes my temples ring with rage.
“Do you miss him?” I ask with a fake smile on my face.
“He used to always answer, but now he doesn’t.”
I shove the pedal down as if outrunning the fury burning in my veins. “He won’t.” I catch a glimpse of him from the corner of my eye. His thick brow is hooked high in question. “Unless the bedtime stories about zombies and ghosts are real.”
“What?”
“Some lines should not be crossed. He learned that the hard way.” My eyes lock on his, unblinking. “Consider that your only warning.”