Page 24 of Savior

I try my best to keep my composure and keep the curse words in my head, but I know I can be myself with Ardesia. He never judges.

“You and me both, Father. You and me both. Keep me apprised of how she’s doing, and I’ll get you the things you requested.”

“Thank you, Ardesia. And thank you for getting her back. I know the trouble you went through, and I know what it will cause.”

He chuckles darkly on the other end of the phone. “Matteo Barone has needed to be knocked down a peg for years. Don’t worry your head about what goes on out here, Father. You take care of you and Sloane.”

I agree, ignoring how his referring to Sloane and me as a unit made my body tingle.

A twig snaps behind me, and I swing around to find Sloane trudging over the cold sidewalk without shoes on.

It’s nearing winter, and the frigid temperatures show themselves at night.

“You shouldn’t be out here without shoes on,” I tell her.

She rolls her puffy eyes. She’s been crying. “I couldn’t sleep.”

We stand there in silence, watching the flames dance over the nightgown for what seems like forever.

“Thank you, Father Russo,” she says, and I don’t bother asking if she means for sending the Riccis or for burning the nightgown. She owes me nothing. Not even her thanks.

Because half of me knows I did it for selfish reasons.

After seeing her picture, something feral took up residence inside me. Something that’ll ruin me if I give it the time of day.

There was no way I’d let them keep her in their possession.

Because she is mine.

CHAPTER EIGHT

SLOANE

Waking up in my new home for the foreseeable future is strange. For once, I have nowhere to go. I don’t have to go to work. However, I am worried about getting a job and keeping my apartment after this. When Father Russo asked me if I had anywhere safe to lie low, I didn’t tell him about my apartment. It was almost like I knew how much safer I felt with him versus how I’d feel in my place. Alone.

After brushing my teeth with a new toothbrush Father Russo left on the bathroom counter, I look myself over.

Deep shadows linger beneath my eyes. My body appears skeletal as if the very essence of vitality has been stripped away. Tiny bruises blossom on my skin like fading ink blots. When I can no longer stand to look in the mirror, I turn away.

Even being in this room feels overwhelming because I’m alone.

This feeling, like I don’t want to be alone, is unsettling. I know it’s because of all I’ve gone through recently, but I also can’t lean on a man I only just met.

Sure, he’s a man of God, but a small part of me wonders how tainted it’ll leave him to be harboring me.

Still, I don’t want to be alone.

The thought of leaving here has my breathing speeding and my heart racing.

“Calm down,” I tell myself, willing my eyes shut.

I spring them open as some of the pain behind them tries to settle in. The dark is where the demons live.

I shake myself off and shove everything away; it’s the only way to survive when you’ve been through so much.

Breathing through the panic that tried to take hold, I slip into some sweats Father Russo left me and tug my fingers through my hair to look more presentable before leaving my room.

I’ve never been one to lean on anyone, even for a few days, so having someone who feels like pure comfort and somewhere safe to land is new to me, but there’s a thrum in my belly I’m trying to ignore.

---