Chapter 12 Ewen
EWEN
I’m beyond exhausted. This month has been busy. Between my normal daily tasks at the parish, I added a confirmation class for the teens in the neighborhood, doubled our days with the soup kitchen, and worked on fixing up the gardens any free moment I have.
It’s paying off. The neighborhood has been more alive. Our attendance has multiplied for Sunday Mass. More people are coming in for confessions. We’re slowly turning this lonely, old congregation into what it was in its glory days. It’s becoming a place everyone is proud to be a part of.
Beocca greets me the moment I walk in. He rubs against my legs, begging for me to give him what he wants.
I swoop him up in my arms and hold him baby style to give belly rubs while walking to the kitchen.
His treats are stored on top of the fridge in a tin.
It’s the only place he can’t get to them.
He’s a vulture for these things and has been known to eat a whole package if he can access them.
The second I grab the canister he jumps from my arms and starts circling while meowing loudly.
Dumping the treats into my hand I see the tin’s almost empty. I swear I just bought more the other day. There’s no way I’ve given him that many. “Has someone learned to get up on the fridge?” I ask. He responds with a blink.
I know he didn’t. He doesn’t have the thumbs to open the container. Maybe I have been giving him more than usual and didn’t notice because of how busy I am.
Clearly I need to pay more attention to how much he gets. I don’t want him to be overweight.
I leave him to his treats and head to the bathroom.
I need to wash away the day. I’ve been so busy that even my prayers haven’t been done as often.
I make a mental note to read a couple extra passages in my Bible tonight.
I have read it so many times I could quote it front to back, but the continuous reading keeps it fresh.
It also helps me find topics to talk about during Mass.
The water takes forever to warm up—one of the downsides of living in an older place. Still worth it to be here, though, at my favorite church. I never thought I would be in the same place I visited while in college. At the time, it was the closest parish, and the gothic style was just a bonus.
Taking off my clerical collar, I set it to the side on a shelf. The rest of my clothes I shed and throw in a pile. Stepping into the shower, the heat of the water instantly begins to dull the ache of my muscles.
I let the warmth and the sound of it falling lull my mind into silence. Closing my eyes, I savor the moment. I rarely get moments of complete silence so I give my mind time to wander. A moment to be free.
A dark figure appears in my mind. A figure shrouded in shadows and darkness. He steps closer. His eyes are green. Hauntingly beautiful and deadly.
My eyes pop open, looking around to confirm I’m in my shower and not that alley.
Shaking my head, I push away the thought. This is not the time to relive that moment.
Grabbing my loofah and squirting too much bodywash I begin the chore of washing away my day.
The loofah gliding across my body is soothing. Closing my eyes to relax, his green gaze finds mine again. Staring into my soul. I can’t see any part of him but his eyes. All the things I remember of Declan from that night come into focus.
All of it. The way he smelled, talked, touched me.
His knife and the fear of it sliding along my penis. The chill of metal touching me intimately. Everything about that moment was terrifying but oh so exhilarating.
Then his mouth was on me. Savoring me. Bringing me pleasures I had never felt before.
The memories are too much. My cock is hard as stone. Grabbing myself, I begin to stroke up and down. The suds from the soap make the glide easy but it’s not him. Not his hand. Not his mouth.
I refuse to open my eyes though. I’m giving myself this guilty moment to be a man. To rub myself like most do. I can’t allow thoughts of how wrong this is right now.
Tightening my grip, I try to make it feel like his mouth.
I thrust and moan, acting like he said I did.
The ache starts in my balls, causing them to draw up.
My head lulls back, imagining I’m back in that alley all those years ago, allowing a murderer to suck my cock.
The force of my orgasm slams into me. Cum squirts all over.
Not that I can see it, but the feeling is of a firehose exploding—pressure snapping all at once.
Slumping back against the tile, I breathe heavily. The sensation of my orgasm was a lot. I can’t even remember the last time I did this, nor have I desired to. Only with him.
I slowly crack my eyes open. The shower is the same as it was before. White, simple, boring. How my life is. Basic.
Then the fear of what I did drop kicks me in the chest. I just masturbated.
Me, Father Grayson, a man of devout devotion just came from thoughts of the Devil.
This right here is why I told him to stay away from me. He causes me to throw my moral code out the window. Makes me want to sin with him and forget every value I have.
I rinse off and turn off the water. Quickly I dry myself and throw on some sweats. Beocca is already curled up on the bed, passed out, signaling it’s time for sleep.
Gently I move him, trying not to wake him.
Once he’s all snuggled up and back to sleep, I pull back the covers.
I slowly crawl into my spot and get comfortable.
My desire to sleep has disappeared, replaced by a humming alertness that won’t go away.
My mind wants to stray back to the man of my nightmares.
He makes me feel so many forbidden things. Like I’m Eve and he’s the forbidden fruit tempting me to leave the Garden of Eden. Eve knew what she was doing was wrong. Just like I know what I’m doing is wrong.
I need to repent. Ask God for His forgiveness. The best way to do that is to say my prayers.
The same thing I told Declan to do after he confessed his recent sins to me.
I grab my rosary and Bible from my nightstand. I rub the beads in my hand, allowing them to bring peacefulness to my mind. Opening the Bible, I pick up where I left off last night.
John 1:9 “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”
Is this passage a sign? God Himself telling me He still loves and embraces me?
Or is it something I need to relay to a certain person? To let him know he can still be granted entry into Heaven.
I don’t want to spend my whole evening analyzing the meaning. I need sleep and the drive to continue my mission.
After more hours than I want to count, I finally find sleep. It isn’t rest—it’s surrender. And the moment I let go, I’m thinking of Declan. He shows up because some people don’t stay in the past once they’ve carved themselves into you.