Page 107 of Shadowed Obsession

“I get that now, and I acknowledge I’ve been selfish. Not even considering the position he put you in,” I acquiesce.

“Your feelings are valid, and it’s not selfish to be angry with me. You shouldn’t have been in that cell, I don’t care if it wasn’t for long. I told myself making it go away quickly would be best for you, but it only slapped a Band-Aid over a deep wound,” she says, the car growing silent as I process this conversation.

My mind flits to César, and frustration boils in my gut. This always happens to me, and now I am convinced I’m not meant to date. Since there’s always someone trying to use me to get to my family. Regina asks a question, releasing me from these thoughts.

“Do you miss him?”

“Hell no.”

“You’ve been pissed at me over a man you don’t even miss. Do you hear yourself?”

She’s got a point.But I remain silent.

“Fair enough, but the world is better off without that sorry motherfucker. We don’t have to speak kindly about the dead. Especially when there’s nothing nice to say. Death doesn’t absolve us of our sins, only prevents us from committing more,” she states calmly while keeping her focus on the road.

“My god. You really arejustlike Cici,” I gasp.

A smug smile stretches across her face. “Spitting fucking image, and it pisses you off, doesn’t it?”

“Only when you strut through metal detectors fully armed.” I pause to think of another reason. “Hmm. And when you set your gun on the table at work and at restaurants.”

“I told you, it digs into my side,” she scoffs.

I break out into a fit of laughter, and she eventually joins me.

“We’re so damn stupid,” I snicker to myself.

“I haven’t laughed like that since my last night with Cidro,” she admits. “Thanks for riding with me.”

“No problem. I wasn’t doing shit anyway. Where are we going?” I ask, peering out of the window.

“Church,” she says flatly.

She’s gotta be fucking with me.

“The devil can’t set foot in a church,” I tease, glancing at her in time to see her smirk.

“Says who? I’ll have you know that I attend confessionalweekly. Hmph.”

“Fuck outta here.” I chuckle at her ridiculousness.

“I’m deadass. I bring a bottle of Divin as an offering for the troubles I bring and go on my way.”

Only Regina.

“That is unfortunate for the priest.”

“I disagree. It comes with the job, and they get top-shelf liquor for free, just for sitting in a box and listening,” she informs, pulling over to parallel park behind a black Mercedes in front of a cathedral.

“You coming?” she asks.

“Absolutely not. I’ll wait here,” I say, shaking my head before I look out of the windshield to admire the stained glass.

“Suit yourself. I won’t be long.”

She pops the trunk before entering the building, and I roll the window down to get her attention.

“Gi, wait.”

---