Page 99 of Savior

She bites her lip, sighing as she lays her head on her knees. “It wasn’t the first time.”

The embarrassment nearly swallows her words, causing my ears to throb loudly. I turn my back to the couch, facing away from her.

Somehow, it seems like the right thing to do. To give her privacy and allow her to continue if she wants to.

It’s also my go-to move as a priest who hears confessions of the soul for a living.

I say nothing, giving her the space she needs if she takes it.

“I was ten the first time,” she admits, and my eyes close, rage building in my chest as tears brim behind my lids.

“Mom was high or drunk, or both, and I wanted a bowl of cereal. There wasn’t any milk in the house, and I couldn’t find Dad. I decided I was going to get the milk myself. I was getting to an age where I was sick of their shit, if I’m honest, and I was also getting used to raising myself. It was on the way home when some man snatched me into an alley…”

I hear her shift on the couch, but I don’t move a muscle. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.

“I think he saw me, you know? In hindsight, the way he snatched me seemed like he knew I’d be coming back the same route. Anyhow, it didn’t last long, but it hurt. It instilled something in me, though. An innate survival drive that has kept me going since that day. I blamed them for it. Mom and Dad. It wouldn’t have happened if they’d only been better to me, been sober.”

I give her a moment as I hear her sniffle before I speak.

“I’m so sorry you went through that,” I finally say.

“Well, it is what it is. You can’t change the past; you can only grow from it.”

I hang my head as I realize how tough Sloane is—tougher than I am.

The faith I have held firmly wavers further in my chest as I think of her ten-year-old self being dragged down an alley and molested.

“Why are you sitting like that?” Her whispered words feather against my ear, and I close my eyes at her proximity. “Are you hearing my confession, Father Russo? The dark and depraved tale of a street kid and what happened to her when no one was watching?”

My eyes fly open as anger fills my gut. I turn my face, my nose skimming hers. She doesn’t falter or back up.

“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” I growl.

She smirks. “The truth doesn’t sting as much when you’re used to bathing in it, Father. You should know that.”

My breathing increases, shallowing as she inches closer. “After all, you spend your time washing those around you inthe truth. Teaching them what’s right and wrong and forcing introspection by making them realize their sins. Helping them to see where they’re unfit for heaven unless they change their ways and repent.”

“That’s not… Sloane…” Her hand comes down on my thigh, far too close to where my cock is filling with blood and inching toward her touch.

“Father,” she teases.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” I whisper, closing my eyes, hoping she’ll eat up the distance between us and kiss me for the apology.

But when I open them again, she’s standing.

She grabs her book and pads toward what has become her room. “I didn’t need you then, and I don’t need you now. While I’m attracted to you, Luca, I’m not a fucking charity case that you need to work on. I don’t need saving.”

Even if I beg to differ, I keep my lips sealed.

“Goodnight, little dove,” I mutter, too low for her to hear.

The door slams behind her, and I let a lone tear slide down my cheek without washing it away.

For the longest time, I sit there. I’m alone in the cabin’s silence, with only my thoughts as companions and the images Sloane left behind when she abruptly left.

She’s tough because she had to be to survive this world, and the reason she doesn’t process things in her past as she should be is that she doesn’t know who she is without her trauma.

She doesn’t know how to survive the world around her without the things that hardened her.

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