Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Farrah
I wake up with a smile on my face that quickly dissolves.
Monsignor Hannibal is leaning over me, uncuffing my wrists. Morning light fills the room, forcing me to squint at my surroundings. Thankfully my nudity has been covered by a blanket, but when I turn to seek the comfort of the man beside me…
Rune is gone.
Rune is not here.
My wrists are freed and I rub the soreness away, while watching the monsignor warily. With a thick trench between his brows, he appears irritated, but I have no idea why. Does he know what Rune and I did in the darkness last night and his agitation stems from having to denounce a priest? Or is he annoyed because he thinks we passed his final test with flying colors?
Nothing could be further from the truth.
A prickly flush creeps up the sides of my face. Rune showed me last night what it is like to be desired to the point of desperation. Suffering. And I want that feeling again, as soon as possible. I want him on top of me, calling me his. Filling me. Degrading me at my own behest and cherishing me in the very next breath. Beneath this man is where I belong. My blood has never sung a truth so clearly.
But he is not here. I have no idea what he’s thinking. Is he ashamed of our actions last night? Does he still wish to remain a priest above all else? Even love?
Merely thinking that four-letter word sends my heart into a tizzy.
I love him.
I think I’ve loved him since he came to my rescue in the field.
My body knew it before my heart, surrendering to him. Now, I want to fully surrender everything to Rune. My heart, soul, pride, trust. I want to lay all of myself at his feet.
But would he accept?
I wet my suddenly dry lips. “Is Father McDaniel saying mass this morning?”
Monsignor Hannibal pauses in the act of gathering the chains. “No, he is deep in prayer, asking the lord for guidance.”
My pulse starts to quicken. “Guidance on what?”
He eyes me with speculation. “I have my suspicions.”
Tread carefully . “Do you?”
“Yes. I still sense an undercurrent of lust between the two of you.” He hesitates, seemingly unsure. “But I have no choice but to admit failure, now that you’ve passed a majority of the tests.”
I let out a slow breath. He doesn’t know that Rune and I made love.
Part of me is elated, as I haven’t caused Rune’s excommunication from the church.
The selfish half of me is deflated. If he’s to remain a priest, that doesn’t leave a future for us, does it? Not unless we kept our relationship a secret. Would that make me happy? No. Clandestine meetings with Rune would make me his private shame. My body might rejoice in that arrangement, but my heart would break more each time.
“What happens now?” I ask, mostly to myself.
“You go back to the village,” the monsignor states, matter-of-factly.
“Now?” My pulse misses several beats. “This morning?”
“Yes,” he fairly hisses. “Or would you like to engage in another round of temptation? Maybe this time he’ll fail and you will win.”
“I…of course, I n-never wanted him to fail—”
“Didn’t you? That’s the only way you’d get paid.”
Dizziness hits me, along with a slow yawning of dread. “I…you said you were going to pay me for my time, no matter the outcome.”
“No, I didn’t. I said I would pay you for your services if they were to my satisfaction. Your services didn’t meet the required standard, or you would have seduced him.”
A realization dawns, thickening my sense of impending doom. “You wanted him to fail your tests. You never wanted him to pass. Why?”
His sneer turns my stomach over. “He thinks he’s so much better than me. Refusing to engage in innocent gossip or condemn even the vilest of parishioners. Thieves and beggars. He allows them into the church to sit beside good, honest people and has the nerve to question me for not doing the same.” His laughter is dark. “Yes, I was looking forward to taking him down a peg, that’s for sure.”
“You…hate him because he is too good. Too accepting and kind.” Warmth presses in behind me eyes. “But that’s exactly what a priest is supposed to be.”
“What do you know, you penniless street trash?” He glares at the outline of my body beneath the sheet. “You’d be wise to make some coin selling that body, before you lose your appeal.”
I’m going to be sick.
I’m actually…scared being alone with this man. He’s an imposter. A fake. He’s no more holy than the prisoners being held in the local jail. Or anyone in the village, really.
And the village does need Rune.
That is being made obvious to me right now.
Without Rune…Father McDaniel…they’ll be left with this hateful hypocrite.
This town needs Rune’s goodness. His authenticity.
I can’t be the one who takes him away from the church—or the church away from him. And I can’t let this man win.
“You have until the hour is up to leave the rectory,” Monsignor Hannibal says. “Get back to where you belong, girl. And thanks for nothing.”
My aunt. She’s probably starving by now. On the verge of being cast out of the shelter. “You’re really not going to pay me the money you promised?”
He takes a menacing step in my direction. “What are you going to do about it?”
Nothing. I have zero recourse. I can’t very well approach the law officers in town and relay the events of the last few days. Not only would they condemn me as a strumpet, but they probably wouldn’t believe the Monsignor is capable of such depravity.
Unfortunately, not getting the promised coin means…my aunt and I are now truly destitute. We have no funds whatsoever. No money to eat or pay the pittance required by the shelter to recure a bed. Without any job prospects for me and my aunt unable to work because of her illness, we’re at the end of our rope.
I’ll have no choice but to marry Mr. Tandy or we’ll be left vulnerable in the street.
“Maybe you should have tried a little harder to corrupt Father McDaniel, hmm?” he says, with a nasty smile, as if he’s read my thoughts. “Be gone with you, girl. By the end of the hour and no more.”
I choke on my request to please, please see Rune before I go.
Surely, he wouldn’t want me to leave without saying goodbye.
But once I’m dressed and my sparse possessions are packed, my time expires…and that’s exactly what I do. I leave without saying goodbye to Rune…
And I prepare to face my fate.
I never could have expected my fate to find me at the gates, demanding my soul.
Rune
I kneel at the altar with my head bowed, a rosary dangling from my fingers.
But I haven’t come to pray. I’ve come to say goodbye to this part of my faith.
I’m choosing her. I was always going to choose her.
Having Farrah or not having Farrah is a choice with as much gravity as life or death.
And lord almighty, do I love her . I’ve known since the marketplace, when my entire world shifted around me and starting spinning in a new direction. She’s the sun. She’s my sun. I ache to be her lifelong protector. I ache to see her every day, every night. To make her laugh, dry her tears and raise children together.
I ache for her cunt.
I ache. And ache. And ache.
These thoughts of mine have no place at the foot of an altar. Thoughts of her spread thighs, her hitching breaths, the sleek grind of her pussy when she climaxes. I’ve lost the battle with lust…but my lust, my need, is not some disgusting sin as I always imagined it would be. No. Because my passion for Farrah runs deeper than skin. It descends to the bottom of the fucking ocean. She makes me feel found.
She makes me feel more righteous and good than the church, as blasphemous as that is to admit. And love…should be celebrated. This love cannot be hidden or ignored. It’s too consuming. Too huge. Too urgent. The surety and joy in my chest are real. They’re something I had no idea I was missing.
“Until Farrah,” I breathe into hands locked in prayer.
My entire being sighs at the mention of her name.
There is no way I could ever give her up. My will to live would be nonexistent. And if I can feel this devoted to one single person, I will never become my father. I reach up and finger my collar, removing it with a tweak of my wrist, settling it down on the altar in front of me—
“Does that mean what I think it means?” asks Monsignor Hannibal from the front row of the church, catching me off guard. How long has he been sitting there? “You are forsaking the church for a brazen hussy?”
I come slowly to my feet, but my ire is not so slow to rise. No, it’s swift and sharp. “Your tongue is the next thing I drop on this altar if you speak ill of Farrah again.”
The monsignor pales but doesn’t lose his smirk. “Well? Where have your prayers led you this morning?”
“To her,” I rasp, eager to hold my girl. “ Everything has been leading to her.”
He’s surprised. “And yet you’ve resisted her considerable charms for the past two days.”
“No, I didn’t.” Low moans. Squeaking bed springs. Our mouths hot, seeking. “We partook of one another quite…intensely. She is likely already pregnant with my child. And I will rejoice to the heavens if she is.” Happiness making me almost dizzy, I turn and look up at the crucifix above the altar. “If God has sent her to me, I must have been a righteous man at some point—a good man—to deserve such a treasure.”
A long pause. Is he battling a smile or is that my imagination? “I see.”
I don’t like the way he’s looking at me. Like he knows something I don’t. Suddenly, there is a very urgent need to see her. My palms are sweating, too, with an intuition I don’t understand. “I must go to her and ask her to be my wife.”
“She might already be someone else’s wife,” drawls the other man.
The church might as well be falling around me for the roaring in my ears, the crumbling sensation in my middle. “What the hell does that mean?” I wheeze. “Farrah! Farrah! ” I start shouting, though I have no idea if she’s even nearby. I just need to yell for her. Yell her name. Implore the universe to bring her to my side, immediately. When there’s no reply, I lunge for the monsignor, gripping him by the front of his robe. “ Explain yourself. ”
He fears me, as he should, yet he is still visibly enjoying my panic. “I might have arranged for Mr. Tandy to meet her outside of the church gate.” He smiles with teeth. “To escort her to the justice of the peace. There’s no time to waste. She’s destitute. And he’s got some very pressing plans to enact with your little Farrah.”
My legs are barely holding me up. Pain is lancing me like a hot blade, the fear and denial so intense, I can’t think straight. “Why? I don’t understand. Why did she leave?” I bellow. “Why have you done this?”
“Because I have the power to do so. And it pleases me to watch you flounder.” His eyes flash with something sinister and a chill blows down my spine. “You thought you could get the best of me by being so kind and pious, well, I showed you, didn’t I?”
Those words leave so much to examine, but for now, I don’t waste another second on this cretin. Time is too valuable with Farrah on the line. I simply strip my robe off over my head and start running as fast as my legs will carry me toward the village, the words “someone else’s wife” ringing in my ears.
I’m coming, Farrah.
Please trust that I’m coming.