Page 68 of Savage Proposal

Damian’s body stiffened; his eyes met mine. “How did you know something happened to her?” I asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, but he was too loud now, visibly panicking. “She’s obviously faced some kind of trauma or?—”

“Father, what did you do?” Cristian asked.

“Nothing,” the priest said through gritted teeth and pushed himself to his feet. “I won’t sit here and be insulted like this. I’m going back to the rectory.”

Cristian stood, blocking his path. “You’ve never lied to me before,” he said, “but I know you’re lying now.”

In an instant, I knew but I wanted confirmation. “Do you want to tell him, Father?” I asked. “Or should I?”

The priest’s eyes, wide and fearful, darted to me. “You won’t say a fuckingword, Lorenzo,” he hissed.

“I won’t?” I could hear the cruelty in my own voice, and I saw Father David swallow hard.

The priest brought his hand down against the dining table with a hard crack. “Keep your mouth shut,” he yelled. “You don’t know a damn thing.”

“I know that she almost bled out on her bathroom floor,” I said, and the color drained from Father David’s face.

“I don’t want to hear this.”

I stepped into his space, looming over him. “I know that she coded twice while the doctors were trying to stop her from hemorrhaging out.”

“Stop.” His words were a plea. “You don’t understand.”

Cristian’s face fell slack. He stared at Father David like he’d never met the man before, and then he looked at me. “What are you saying,fratellone?”

“You’ve noticed the scar on Isabella’s face?” He nodded, looking sicker by the second. “There’s more on her body, and Father David helped put them there.”

Cristian looked back at his mentor. “Tell me that’s not true,” he said, holding up a finger when Father David tried to open his mouth, “and mean it.”

The priest’s mouth opened and shut again; he looked like a goldfish that had been taken out of its bowl and put on the counter. It took him a full minute to force out: “It’s not true, Cristian.”

My younger brother stared at Father David for a beat, and I could see all of the heartbreak on his face. This was the man my brother had emulated. He wanted to live his life trying to be “as good as Father David.” He took a deep, meditative breath, and then he launched himself at him. “Fucking liar,” he roared. I could hear the meatythudof his fists against the older man’s face.

Elio and I grabbed Cristian and dragged him back. “Cris, you’ve got to stop,” I told him. “You’ll kill him.”

He was panting hard, struggling against me and Elio. “So? You’re not going to let him live.”

“I’m not,” I assured him, ignoring the pathetic whimper from the man on the ground. “But I’m not going to let you fuck up your vows any more than you already have.”

“I don’t fucking care about that.” He tried to wrench away from us again, but Elio and I held on.

“Ido,” I said. The only thing Cristian had ever been seriously committed to was the Church. I wasn’t going to let him screw all that up now. “Besides, I need to know why this happened, and I can’t get that information if you beat him to death.”

That registered with him, and he stopped fighting us. “Okay,” he said. “I’m calm.” When we let him go, Cristian did aim a swift kick at Father David’s ribs before he stepped away.

“You need to go,” Damian said, grabbing hold of Cristian’s arm. Elio bent to pick up Father David, who barely did much more than wheeze in pain.

“Why?”

“Because you can’t be here for what’s about to happen,” I said. “I’m not going to compromise you like that. If anyone asks what happened to Father David, you can honestly say that you don’t know. I’ll send cleaners to the rectory to plant some bullshit about leaving the Church.”

“Call me when it’s done,” Cristian said.

“No. You don’t get to know anything from this point forward,” I said. “Trust me that we will take care of this.” I gestured for Damian to go with Elio. They knew where to get Father David set up. “I’ll walk you out.”

“I want to see Isabella first.”

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