Page 132 of Savior

He sighs. “I do. But let’s talk about it over food. Brynne wants to be present.”

I take a whiskey from him, and he looks at me knowingly.

He knows if it were him missing his woman, he’d act the same. It would be more severe in his case, being who he is. I am not Ardesia Ricci,the Grim Reaper of New York.I don’t have the power or know-how to find and rescue Sloane.

I wish I did, though.

“I heard something disturbing today,” Ardesia says, dropping into a chair and crossing his leg over the other as he sips from his glass.

“Did you, now?” I sit across from him, letting the small table between us be the buffer.

There’s an aura around Ardesia that’s palpable to everyone, and it’s not one you want to float within too long. Sometimes, I wonder how Brynne does it.

“Mm, a little birdy told me you left the church.”

I nod, letting the whiskey burn its way down my throat and into my soul.

It’s reminiscent, this moment. The first time I met Ardesia, we had a drink together—the afternoon of his wedding.

“Your little birdy would be correct. I cleaned out my office today and moved out of the rectory last week.”

Ardesia narrows his eyes at me. “Because of Sloane?”

I grapple with how to answer. I’d been preparing to answer John’s questions for days after I made the move, but when he didn’t ask me a thing, I stopped worrying about what to say to people.

“Not entirely, no.”

“I knew you were struggling, but I hadn’t realized it was with your faith,” he says, setting his glass on his knee.

I sigh, downing the rest of my drink in one swallow. “It’s not that I’ve lost faith, but I am still wavering, I’ll admit.”

“A crisis of faith is normal, I think. Especially after seeing and realizing the world that I dwell in. You dove right off the deep end when you brought me that confession, and I don’t think you were ready to see the dark, seedy side of this city.”

I swallow. He’s not wrong. I had no clue about the world I was stepping into. Sure, I know what’s going on around me. I ran charities for the church and visited shelters and hospitals, but tosee it firsthand, instead of seeing it on the news, is an entirely different story.

“Part of the reason I left is Sloane, I’ll admit. She made me realize how much I was missing in life. I don’t need to step away from the faith entirely. I took a job at the university, teaching theology, but I know in my soul that I don’t want to live in a future where she’s not in it. Where she’s not beside me.”

Ardesia looks up as Brynne walks into the room. She’s in a sleek black dress and matching high heels. The apron she has tied in front of her dress has roosters on it, and it makes me immediately think of the day Sloane and I went against Satan’s Rooster back at the cabin.

I look down at my glass, twirling the remaining thin amount of whiskey at its base as I smile.

“Daddy,” she whispers, low enough she likely thinks I can’t hear her. “Dinner is served when you’re ready.”

“I’ll be right in, baby girl.”

The sound of a kiss makes my heart yearn for Sloane even more, and I swallow the tightness in my throat.

“More whiskey to have with your food, Fath—I mean, Luca.”

I smile, standing and offering my glass to him. “Sure, Slate.”

He shakes his head. “About damn time you get my name right.”

I follow him into the dining room, where Brynne has set out a beautiful meal and poured our wine.

I sit down, bow my head, and pray.

“Aloud, please,” Slate says, and I smile, something untangling in my chest as I do just that: bless our food and pray for guidance and strength.

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