These are tears of rage.
Not the first I’ve shed. I’m sure not the last.
There are so many things I want to say to Father Gabriel right now. Bad things. Blasphemous things.
Hussy.
But I don’t.
If he senses my anger, he doesn’t acknowledge it.
“One last stop before lunch,” he says as he sweeps out an arm. “In case you ever need to get something off your chest.”
There’s a small alcove a few feet away. The arched door set within has a brass crucifix hanging at eye level.
Father Gabriel opens the door, revealing darkness beyond.
He steps inside.
I can either follow or stay out here, stranded and alone. As much as I want to fade into the shadows, I’m done with being alone.
I trust Gabriel.
I know he wouldn’t allow harm to come to me.
I follow him inside despite my tight chest and my pounding heart and my dry mouth.
I follow him into the darkness, and it swallows me whole.
Chapter Four
Trinity
Candles emerge from the gloom once my eyes have adjusted to the low light. They don’t do a good job of illuminating this place—but there isn’t much for them to light up anyway.
This is the tiniest chapel I’ve ever seen. The nave consists of six short pews, three a side, with a narrow aisle leading to the chancel.
The person on his knees in front of the altar seems too big and brawny for this intimate space.
Candle flames flicker as we move deeper inside.
As if sensing us, the figure in front bows his head a little deeper and slowly gets to his feet.
“My apologies for interrupting, Reuben.”
The figure turns.
I thought it had been a man, perhaps another priest, but as the flames light the stranger’s face, I realize he’s a kid like me.
Okay, kid isn’t the right word. Young man works better. He couldn’t be more than a year or two older than me, but he’s tall and broad and the darkness in his eyes doesn’t come solely from this shadowy room.
He’s dressed like Jasper was, but without the blazer. On him, his dress shirt skims defined muscles and his collar hugs a thick neck. The top button of his shirt is undone, and his tie slightly loosened, as if he was getting hot.
Unlike Jasper, he’s handsome as hell.
I suddenly feel much too small for my age.
“Trinity, this is Reuben. He’s in the same grade as you.”
“Hi,” I manage, although I doubt he can hear my whisper all of a yard away.
His dark eyes take me in, not changing one bit, and then fix on Father Gabriel. “She’s a girl.” His voice is deep, like I expected, but so melodious. The sound tugs loose a contraption that releases a million butterflies into my belly.
“Acute observation,” Father Gabriel says through a laugh. “Trinity is my—”
Gabriel’s cell cuts him off. He lifts a finger, sending an apologetic smile first my way, then Reuben’s, before he slips out of the room to take the call.
When I turn back, Reuben’s standing less than two feet away.
My heart jumps out of my chest as I stumble back.
“What are you doing here?” Reuben demands.
“Um…Going to school?”
His dark eyes scour mine. “You don’t sound so sure.”
I open my mouth to protest, but then I hear fabric rustling behind me.
“Reuben, child, show Trinity to the lunchroom.”
I turn pleading eyes to Father Gabriel, willing him to understand the psychic message I’m yelling at him.
Don’t leave me alone with this guy! He’s a fucking psychopath!
But Father Gabriel just gives me a warm smile and a pat on my shoulder before saying, “Jasper should be in the lunchroom. He can show you to your first class this afternoon.”
My skin itches, and I’m sure it’s because Reuben’s staring at me.
“Father—!”
“I’m sorry, I must go.”
Reuben watches Gabriel leave then his eyes flicker back to me. He ducks his head and slips a rosary around his neck with reverential care. The wooden beads rattle as he tucks it under his shirt.
When he looks back up at me, my spine turns to ice.
Eyes like pools of frozen tar pin me where I stand. If I could have turned tail and run, I would have been scampering out of here like a mouse who’s spotted a cat. And the cat was ready to pounce.
Reuben steps past me. I catch a whiff of something sweet and musky in the air he disturbs as he reaches back and grabs my wrist. I have no choice but to trot after him. It’s that or have him rip off my arm. He doesn’t walk fast, but big as he is, he covers a lot of ground even at his slow pace.
Reuben says nothing as he leads me from the prayer room and down the hall to the lunchroom. I catch a glimpse of Father Gabriel before he disappears around a corner. If I’d had a shred of common sense, I’d have called out to him. All he’d have to do was glance back. When he saw how Reuben was manhandling me he’d realize something was wrong.
But he doesn’t look back.
Guess he’s forgotten all about his newest charity case.
I watch Reuben’s back the rest of the way, both mesmerized and horrified by the way his muscles move under his shirt.
How easily he could have snapped my neck back there.
No one would have seen.
No one would have known.
My skin crawls at the thought.
He pushes open the door. A wave of chaotic noise and intoxicating smells wash over me. Reuben releases me and steps through. The door almost crashes into my face as it swings back on a hydraulic hinge. I catch it just in time. When I push it open, Reuben’s disappeared into the bustle of boys moving around as they go to find their seats.
Thankfully, no one seems to notice me standing here.
The crowd thins at just the right time, creating an open channel to the far side of the room. Call it a miracle, but through some disturbance in the fabric of the universe, I spot Jasper. He’s sitting at the end of one of the long benches chatting with the boy sitting opposite him.
Just another boy in a room filled with boys. But at least I know his name. At least he didn’t just murder me with his eyes.
I push back my shoulders and head for the edges of the room, trying to find the most inconspicuous way to reach him.
Definitely not the welcome I was expecting.
Jasper does a double-take when he sees me standing beside him. It took every bit of courage I had to walk through the bustling hall and make my way over here. Even more to detour and grab a plate of food. I was expecting some kind of buffet line, where staff in hair nets dished up whatever you wanted onto your plate. Instead, I had to grab the second-last food tray covered in plastic wrap from a nearby counter.
Today’s lunch is thin stew and bread.
This place is really starting to remind me of a prison.
Jasper sits back, the hand holding his fork sagging. “What are you doing here?” he whispers furtively.
“Eating?” I grip my tray a little harder. The closest boys turn to stare at me. Those next to them look, then the next, then the next.
Everyone is watching me.
The entire dining hall is silent.
Dear Lord.