Page 18 of Sinister Savior

“A word?” he says, and I glance at my men before ascending the stairs.

Father Thomas is a saint, a man of the cloth who knows what sin is, what it can do to the human soul. He is also a man who understands my path and how God uses men in mysterious ways. His past led him to where he is now, on a new road. He understands that my past led me to where I am now, returning to my roots to cleanse them.

I climb the stairs and meet him in the kitchen where he shuts the door so our conversation can’t be heard, though I hear Ervine take over thediscussion downstairs. They’ll make a plan for how to lure Paolo out to this very church, where we will end his reign of terror once and for all.

“Mario,” Father Thomas begins, his tone already revealing his concern. “You know I have to do my duty as a priest to discourage you from acts of violence. Vengeance is the Lord’s.”

Though he doesn’t wear the robes right now, he still plays the part. Only to him, this isn’t an act. He sold himself wholeheartedly to this life of servitude and piety, becoming a eunuch, which I could never do. To me, it was always merely a job I performed, a role in a much larger play I was portraying, though I played it well.

“I understand your concern, Father, but you know these sorts of men don’t fall easily. We can’t wait on the hand of God to move. How many more men will die before God acts?” I scowl as I say the words. I know his training is to always give mercy and not expect sacrifice. I didn’t have to go to seminary like him to understand the ways of the church. It’s a stark contrast between our worlds, but if anyone in the world can understand why I must act as God’s hand in this situation, it’s him.

“Alice is looking for you. She’s asked me a dozen times. She wants to speak with you.” His tone shifts, sounding more resolved to the situation as if he gives up on trying to convince me to do the “holy” thing, the “right” thing. But what I’m doing is essential, even if it’s not “holy” or “right”. Paolo will continue to recklessly destroy lives without cause, and he must be stopped.

“Thank you,” I tell him, starting off toward the bedroom, but he speaks and I stop to listen.

“I must warn you, Mario. I am sworn by my oath to keep your secrecy, but I cannot condone willful acts of violence that you know ahead of time are mortal sins. Please rethink what you’re doing.” His eyes plead with me to do the right thing, but I don’t hear them.

“No one in your parish or your church will be harmed, Father.” I could call him Leo, as that’s the name I know him by from his former life. But I choose to call him Father out of respect. It’s one of the small differences between me and my brother. One I hope he appreciates. “I will tell you when this plan is to be enacted so you can prepare your congregants, make sure they are far away from here and safe. And I assure you, when Paolo is out of the picture, your city will rest in peace again.”

I don’t wait for his response. I turn and head up the hallway to where Alice waits for me. Don’t think this doesn’t weigh on me, either. To kill a monster, you must become a monster, and I feel the darkness waiting in the shadows, luring me toward its maleficence. It will be a miracle if I survive this without in turn becoming like the man I must destroy—hard and cold.

13

ALICE

Dinner is cold, but I don’t complain. If that’s the worst thing that happens to me today, I’m in good shape. I’ve been sick to my stomach all week, and sick of hiding. This quiet refuge has become a prison. Mario says he’s working on amassing his “army of ready soldiers” with which he will take his brother down. I say by now, we could’ve been in Venezuela or somewhere exotic, hiding in paradise instead of a church’s rectory.

I push my spoon around the dish, watching the hunks of meat mix with the noodles. Nothing is appetizing anymore. I’ve lost my desire to even exist, and with nowhere else to go but wherever Mario tells me, I fear I’ll be a nun before this is all said and done. A nun who may be pregnant with a priest’s baby, if you can even imagine something so absurd. But it’s true. I haven’t told Mario, though. I don’t want him to freak out. Something about this whole situation makes me want to slip away in the middle of the night and put as much distance between me and my past as possible.

“You’re not hungry?” he asks. He’s asked that a lot over the past week or so. When he’s not out amassing his army—whatever that means—he’s here doting on me. In a way, I think it’s sweet that before I wentto confession, he’d never met me before, but now we’re bonded in a way that makes him feel obligated to care for me. In a way, I wonder if this trauma bond is really healthy or if I jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire. But I love him. I know that much. And it’s not just the sex or some twisted version of Stockholm syndrome.

“Nah,” I mumble, offering the same response I’ve offered the past ten times he asked me. If I eat this, I’m just going to throw it up, and I don’t feel like explaining to him why I’m throwing up. Or why I fear I’m throwing up. I haven’t taken a pregnancy test, but I missed my period. Besides, it’s pretty obvious there is a very high risk of conception when all sex is unprotected sex with this man. “Guess I just want something different. A burger sounds good.”

“I can’t really let you go out, Alice. You know that.” He looks at me with compassion, and I know he’s right. If I even so much as show my face anywhere in this city, they’ll find me again. I’m safe enough here. Mario himself doesn’t even leave the rectory unless it’s in his robes. He changes into other clothes elsewhere, but he says it’s his way of blending in and not drawing attention to the church.

“I know.” I sigh and stir the soup a little more, still noodling the idea of just running away. I know I’m not a prisoner here, and if I am, it’s only because Tom made me this way. It isn’t Mario’s fault. He’s trying to help me. But I can’t help feeling a bit of animosity at times.

“If we cut your hair, dye it… we could maybe go out now and then, but…”

“Or I could just leave.” I look up at him and plead with my eyes for him to just agree with me. “I could be in Ohio in under three days, and they’d never find me.” My lip quivers as I say the words, knowing if I do that, I’ll never see Mario again, and this budding love I have for him will fizzle and die. He’ll be the one who got away instead of the one I have for life.

“Alice, you can’t be serious.” His soft scowl is more like that of a parent chastising their child, not anger. “They’ll find you, baby. Thathalf-million your dead husband stole isn’t the fortune. My brother has billions. He won’t even miss that money. The reason he’s hunting you is a matter of principle—no one steals from him and lives to tell about it.” His serious face is stern and uncompromising.

“But I don’t have it. I don’t know where Tom put it.” It doesn’t seem fair that the sins of my former husband are being visited on me. If I had the money, I’d give it back.

“He doesn’t care.” Mario pushes his chair back from the table and stands, then collects both of our bowls and carries them to the sink. “I’m going to make this right for you. I promise. I have a plan.”

“What plan?” I ask, standing and walking to stand next to him at the sink. As much as I trust him—and I do fully trust him—I know no matter what plan he has, it’s going to end in violence and more death.

“The details aren’t important, okay?” He dries his hands and turns to me, gripping my shoulders. Then he kisses my forehead and breathes in the scent of my hair before saying, “The only thing you need to worry about is trusting me and doing exactly as I say. I care about you, Alice. I won’t let you get hurt.”

I search his eyes as he pulls away, and I know he means it, but this time, I have to protect him. I can’t let him risk life and limb for me, not even if I’m carrying his baby. I’m sick of seeing people around me die, and I don’t want to lose someone else I care about. If the money and retribution are what Mario’s brother wants, then he’ll be unable to even chase them if I’m gone. If I vanish.

“What are you thinking?” he asks, but I can't tell him.

“I’m thinking how amazing you are.” My eyes well up with tears. “How much I honestly love you.” It’s the first time I say it to him, and it may be the only time I say it to him. When he leaves again, I’m going to leave too. I’ll get a cab or an Uber and I’ll go to the bus station. Greyhound has buses that go all around the country. I can be on theEast Coast and away from here where I’m safe, and there will be no reason for an army, or a war, or taking down Paolo Gatti.

“You are the sweetest thing in the world.” He kisses my forehead again and smiles. “I might just be falling for you too, Ms. Darling. And when this is all over and done, we’ll have some serious talks about what that means for our future because I’m not going back to the priesthood. That’s for sure.”

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