Page 124 of Savior

Now she’s gone.

I don’t know what to do. How to act.

I’m lost again.

“You want me to pack her things?” Brynne asks.

I nod, sniffling. I know I can’t do it.

She moves off to the bedrooms.

Ardesia sighs, looking around. “Peaceful, isn’t it? Well, it was. I can’t deny I’m fucking livid that the other families know where this place is now. I enjoyed having it to myself. Like my piece of heaven.”

I nod. “I know we were hiding, but enjoyed our time here.”

It seems mundane to be having this conversation when Sloane is lost and likely being abused, but there’s a way things are done in this world, and going against two Dons in the mafia isn’t wise.

After an hour, the cabin is locked up, and I’m sitting to Ardesia’s left in the helicopter, my bag between my feet. The world below us is a vivid green, slick with rain and chill. A world I’ll likely never have the pleasure of seeing again. But while I was here, I felt like I lived.

I breathe a sigh as we move over the water surrounding the island.

“Won’t take us too long to get to the jet,” Ardesia says in my headphones, and I nod without looking at him.

It’s all I can do to keep myself in check. To keep calm.

My heart breaks into a million bits and pieces as I leave the island without Sloane in tow.

Not knowing how we’re going to handle this or even having a plan is going to be the fucking death of me.

Bishop Riley looksover my written confession. I’ll likely be excommunicated today and removed from power. It’s the right way to do it.

We’ve had priests vanish before, and it’s all because they don’t want to face whatever they did to get cut off from the church.

I’ve been home for a week, and it’s time to finish this.

“You don’t want to remain?” he asks me.

I swallow, tugging my brows together. “What do you mean? You have plenty of evidence to throw me out of the church. I’ve come to terms with my fate.”

I’d included a resignation letter behind the confession to save time.

Bishop Riley is in his sixties, rotund and balding. He looks at me over the top rim of wireframe glasses and then sighs.

Tossing the papers down, he removes his glasses and throws them on top of them. “Listen, let me tell it to you straight,” he starts, rubbing his closed eyes as if reading my confession had harmed them somehow.

“Alright…” I give him room to go on.

“I’ve seen and heard far worse things than these from priests, and some of them are still in power in churches I oversee. If you want to stay at your post, I won’t stop you.”

I’m flabbergasted. The knowledge I’ve been working with some of the filthiest sinners takes me aback.

“We’re only human, Father Russo. And there’s something to be said for how weak manly flesh is, don’t you agree?” He waggles his eyebrows at me in a way that makes me uncomfortable, and I swallow past a lump in my throat.

“I don’t know, I…”

He raises a hand and cuts me off. “Listen, you still have a few weeks on sabbatical. Take that time to figure out where you are in your faith and how you want to go forward. Whichever way is fine with me. I only want your happiness. But I want you to know you can remain here if you wish.”

I nod. “Thank you, Bishop.”

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