Chapter 3 #2
I cringed at what I was going to share. “Better than gossip.”
“Okay then, see you in fifteen,” Gabby said, then disconnected the call.
I smiled as I merged back onto the road in the direction of the Hangout.
Gabby always improved my mood and she had from our initial encounter, when her father brought me home to dinner.
A dynamo bartender, hell on wheels, and a proud queer, she immediately made me comfortable.
Over the last year, I’d come to learn that more than anything, she was a good listener.
I knew whatever I told her would stay between us, which I appreciated, since her father, Frank, was my supervisor at work.
I spotted Gabby approaching the restaurant. Traffic was slow going with tourists so I lowered my window and called out, “I should find something on tenth.”
Gabby indicated the line waiting to get inside. “I have a better idea. Meet me by the burrito stand.”
I gave her a thumbs-up and ten minutes later we took our bagged burritos and coffee to a small park across the street just a few yards away from the sand.
There were fewer people because there wasn’t access to the beach, but they were under the shade of lush palm trees at the top of the stone, terraced seating with a panoramic view of the ocean.
I hummed in relief. Giving Gabby’s hand a quick squeeze, I said, “Thank you for meeting me this morning. This is much better than straining to have a conversation in a noisy restaurant.”
“It is, right?” Gabby sat cross-legged facing me. She began to peel the wrapper from her food when she paused. “Honey, what’s wrong? You don’t look well.”
“Gee, thanks,” I said in a self-deprecating tone.
Gabby raised a brow, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief.
Her dyed black hair was buzzed and slightly longer at the top.
She wasn’t pretty, and had slightly masculine features that reminded me of her dad.
But her body brought the leering attention of both men and women, and to her mother’s horror, Gabby went braless. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, it’s kinda why I needed to talk to you. Hawk saw my back.”
“Oh, no, Ethan. I thought you had let up on the flogging.” There was no judgment in her tone. Only empathy.
I sipped my coffee to buy time. Then, after a beat I said, “I had for a few weeks, then suddenly the craving came back with a vengeance. Hawk threatened to ban me if I showed up at the gym with fresh bruises.”
“I’m guessing he didn’t spar with you, either.”
I shook my head. “You’d be right.”
Gabby sighed and, after a moment, her demeanor switched.
She and her brother, Teddy were into the lifestyle.
Whereas Teddy was a switch, Gabby was a dominant fortunate to have found the sweetest submissive in her wife, Belle.
Although Belle wasn’t into playing with pain, Gabby understood when a submissive wasn’t having their needs met.
“There’s something else on your mind. Am I right? ”
“How do all dominants do that?” I groused. “You think you fucking know everything.”
“Because the good dominants do,” Gabby retorted smugly. “And we also look out for our submissives. With that in mind, we’re taking a few minutes to enjoy the scenery and nourish ourselves. You’ve lost weight and need to eat, or I’ll get Mama Cattaneo after you.”
I snorted. Gabby might’ve looked like her dad but her bold, unapologetic manner was all from her mother. In answer, I took a big bite from my burrito, causing Gabby to chuckle.
“That’s a good boy,” she said, teasing.
For the next however long, Gabby and I shared our meal in a combination of mutual quiet and idle remarks about the good food and the people sitting among us. When I swallowed the last bite, washing it down with the remainder of my coffee, I took our trash to a nearby garbage can.
Gabby looked into the distance momentarily, her long legs stretched out. “Are you ready to talk? And then I want to know how I can help. But first things first.”
I knew Gabby appreciated me being straightforward, so I was. “I met a priest.”
Gabby turned her head slowly until she was facing me. “Honey, give me the deets. I can’t work with one cryptic statement.”
I explained how I’d unexpectedly gone inside the church to check it out, and how when Father Jude stopped at the pew and our gazes met, I left because he unnerved me. “But then later that evening after I’d met with Hawk, I had a meltdown and a screaming hissy fit in my truck.”
Gabby was animated when she said, “I’m so fucking glad you called me this morning. Okay, go on…”
“Much later I was coming out of the bookstore, as I crossed the street, I felt someone staring at me. I turned around and Gabby, it was him…” I paused at that point in the story.
“I never would have recognized him in sweatpants with his face in the shadows of his hood. But he looked directly at me and pushed the hood away from his face. We… connected. A sizzling connection from across the street.”
“Who turned away first?”
“I did,” I admitted. “I ran away because of my intense reaction to him. He’s a priest for fuck’s sake.”
“And yet, he was the one to reveal his identity,” Gabby said, giddy with curiosity. “There’s definitely a story there.”
I repositioned so we were sitting cross-legged again. Gabby braced her hands on my knees and asked, “Then what?”
“Last night, I had to almost handcuff myself to not use the flogger. And this morning, I kinda…”
“Kind of what? Don’t stop now,” Gabby’s voice rose, and she had to quickly modulate it before the people around us didn’t think we were arguing.
“I went to confession,” I admitted. “Well, not really confession. I introduced myself like a goddamn idiot.”
Gabby broke into laughter and fell back on her hands. She was still shaking with giggles as she uncrossed her legs and straightened.
All the while I stared incredulously at her reaction. Jumping to my feet, I stood with my hands firmly on my hips. “What the fuck, Gabby? This is not Comedy Central.”
“Oh, come on, honey.” Reaching up, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me back down. “It’s also sexy as fuck. But, not going there,” she said and winked. “Finish telling me.”
“What’s next will be a letdown for your slutty brain. After we exchanged names…” I paused for a moment and decided to leave out about wanting someone to talk to confidentially.
“What’s his name?” Gabby interrupted as she took her phone out of her pocket and brought up St. Michael the Archangel.
At the same moment as I said, “Father Jude,” she brought up his photo.
“Even with the clerical collar on, he’s gorgeous,” she said, practically swooning.
“If you’re finished drooling…”
“Yeah, go ahead,” Gabby said and put her phone down.
“Well, actually, there’s not much else. I told him that maybe it was a mistake, and I ran out.”
“What a twat, Ethan,” she said and punched my arm playfully. “You need to go to the rectory and make an appointment to see him.”
“Uh-uh,” I said, shaking my head vehemently. “No fucking way.”
Gabby challenged, “Why not?”
“Because he’s a priest,” I said, stating what I thought was obvious.
Gabby waved her hand in the air as if dismissing her suggestion. “Well, at very least, go back to confession again. When are they?”
I didn’t even have a chance to respond before Gabby had her phone in hand again. “Thursdays in the evening from six to seven thirty and then on Saturday mornings, which you know already. Next Thursday, and don’t forget to call and tell me what happens.”
I let out a suffering sigh.
“Dramatic, baby. Just go. There’s a reason he pulled off his hood.
Maybe he wants some action on the side. I’m sure he’s not the only priest who isn’t a hundred percent celibate.
” Then Gabby moved closer to me and laid her head on my shoulder.
In a gentle voice, she said, her voice low to avoid anyone else hearing, “It’s time, honey.
You’ve punished yourself long enough. And I’m not just referring to the flogging.
” Tugging on my sleeve, she continued, “You deserve to be happy, even for a little while.”
I didn’t believe I merited anything yet.
But maybe she was right about one thing.
I should go to confession. But not just to lay eyes on Father Jude.
Maybe it was time to confess for real. Even though I’d given up on religion, my therapist told me that the act of confessing to another person, especially a spiritual authority, might relieve me of some guilt.
Frank knew about my history in Napa because when I applied for the job working for Artemis Drakos, I’d been fully transparent.
I could’ve refrained from telling them, since my police record had been expunged.
However, I’d started a new life in Southern California, and I hadn’t wanted to hold any secrets.
Frank valued my honesty, and after the in-person interview when Artemis offered me the job, Frank had pulled me into a hug and invited me home to dinner.
Between Mama Cattaneo fussing over me and Gabby and Teddy making me feel like a long-lost sibling, I went back to my apartment and cried from sheer emotion. No one had wanted me for a long time.
Gabby was the only family member other than Frank who knew about my involvement with the police.
Gabby, however, knew everything else as well.
Being a Dominatrix and in the lifestyle, I’d felt comfortable sharing my submissive tendencies along with the story of Napa.
Her wife, Belle, was a drug counselor and had firsthand knowledge what Thorne, my previous Dom, had filled my veins with for weeks.
She’d confirmed that along with other mind-altering side effects, my brain had been programed to obey Thorne unconditionally.
The Dom’s addictive voice became hypnotic in itself.
As a result, had Thorne ordered me to jump off a building to my death, I would’ve followed his command without question.