Page 67 of Savior

She laughs, and I hear Ardesia mumble something inaudible. “I’ve always been this wise, Father. I’m more confident and assertive now that I know living doesn’t mean just surviving.But if what Ardesia has told me about Sloane is true, she hasn’t discerned that yet. She’s still just trying to survive.”

It’s why she ran, I realize.

I hurt her, and she had to protect herself, even from the sting of rejection.

It’s admirable to know when to run from a situation. But I can’t keep her safe if she’s not with me.

“Find her for me, Ardesia. I’ll get her.”

“Oh, we know where she is, Father Russo. But you’re going to want me to go,” Ardesia says in reply, and I can hear his smirk through the phone.

“Oh, now, don’t ruin all the fun. We’ll all go,” Brynne says ruefully.

“Where is she?” I ask hesitantly.

“Happy Endings,” Brynne says with a laugh. “Foreshadowing at its best. It’s a sign from God.”

I open my mouth to tell her not to twist veiled meanings, selling it as God’s will, but I snap my mouth shut, knowing I’ve made enough of a mess with my mouth lately.

“We’ll pick you up in thirty,” Ardesia says, and the line goes dead.

What the hell is Happy Endings?

Music blasts through the speakers,and lights twirl overhead. Ardesia walks ahead of me, getting waved right through. He tells a big burly bouncer I’m with him, and I don’t get carded, nor do I pay.

I get eyeballed for the clerical collar on my black shirt. Ardesia begged me to change, but I knew it was the right thing to wear to ward off unwanted attention.

Not that I won’t be chastised silently for being in the club in the first place, but I couldn’t send Ardesia to do my work another time. I needed to be present. I need to apologize.

Brynne is dressed in a tight-fitting black number with heels that rival the ones the girl on the pole is wearing.

We find a table nearest the stage, and someone promptly comes over and asks what we want to drink. I wave them off, to which Ardesia tells them I’ll have a soda.

“Try to blend a bit,” he tells me in his defense. Brynne takes up on his lap as if she belongs there.

He kisses her slowly and thoroughly, like we’re not in a public place.

I clear my throat as the song changes and look away, my eyes glancing over as the stage darkens.

Skinby Rhianna is a song I know solely because my brother is obsessed with keeping mehipwhen I’m around him.

The lights slowly dim, reds and pinks twirling overhead where the last girl had blue and purple lights.

A girl slowly moves to the pole, flirting around it as if it’s a man she’s teasing.

I stiffen in my chair when she turns around, her back hitting the pole as she slides down it, arching her back and baring her beautiful breasts.

Breasts I’d know even if I were stricken blind.

“Holy shit, is that her?” Brynne asks, husk in her tone as she does so.

I can’t even nod. Nor can I answer.

I’m transfixed.

She’s wearing a red G-string and clear heels that look like they take a degree to walk in. Her moves lure the onlookers like moths to a flame, and I’m no exception.

“Yeah, that’s her,” Ardesia says with a sigh. “Not that you should ogle her,” he adds.

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