Page 6 of Forgive Me, Father

I hit send and then lean back in my chair, raking my hand through my hair. I try to busy myself with other work. It’s a half-hearted effort, at best.

I see it the moment Matt’s email hits my inbox. My eyes scan the response.

He can help me find the website. We make plans to meet up tonight to go over what he’s found.

And over the next few hours, a plan crystallizes in my mind. I know how I can save Olivia and her brother. I know what I need to do.

If Olivia’s going to auction herself off to someone, it’s going to be me.

Three

Gabriel

A little over a week later, I’m sitting inside a luxe hotel suite, pacing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over the Toronto skyline.

My brother was able to track down the auction site in a matter of hours, and after reassuring him I didn’t need the police involved, I made an account. And then I found it—the listing for Olivia’s virginity auction. Her name wasn’t part of the profile, but there were several photographs of her. Anyone who intended to bid in the auction had to pre-register and then check into his assigned room at this luxury hotel an hour before the auction was to begin. Then, once the auction was complete, Olivia would be brought to the winning bidder’s room.

Lord, help me. I’ve been at war with myself ever since I signed up to participate in the auction. I tell myself that I’m doing this to save her, to help her. I have no intentions of…claiming her. That can’t happen. That won’t happen.

And yet…the idea is temptation and sin and everything I’ve ever wanted.

I can’t figure out if this is a test or a gift.

I haven’t spoken to Olivia since she fled the confessional last week. She was at mass on Sunday, but left before I could talk to her. She didn’t come to Bible study or to help me make lunches to take to the homeless shelter. She didn’t come to confession.

She’s avoiding me. Out of shame? The idea crushes me. She has nothing to feel ashamed of. I’m not judging what she’s doing. I understand her motivations. I just don’t want her to do it because she shouldn’t have to.

Because she should be mine, a small voice whispers in the back of my head. I scrub a hand over my face, trying to ignore it.

I wish I could just give her the money to help Alessandro. But I know she wouldn’t take it. I’d tried to offer last week during the confessional and she’d all but rejected my offer of help.

So, fine. We’ll do this her way.

I’m wearing the carpet thin in front of the window, pacing as my thoughts swirl. As my heart pounds. As I try to convince myself I’m here for altruistic reasons. As I remind myself that nothing is going to happen between me and Olivia. I’m her priest, for fuck’s sake. Not to mention that I’m seventeen years older than her. I know that she’s twenty-one. I’m thirty-eight.

I took a vow of celibacy. I can’t break it.

No matter how much Olivia makes me want to.

I remind myself that she doesn’t want me, and that it doesn’t matter what I want. I’m here for her. To help her. I’m not going to take advantage of the situation. I would never.

Assuming I win the auction. What if I don’t? What if the bidding goes too high and it’s more money than I have? I’m prepared to drain my life savings for her. But what if it’s not enough? I’ve been a priest for the past eleven years. I’m not exactly rolling in it.

I pace to the other side of the room, my pulse roaring in my ears, my hands shaking. I catch sight of myself in the mirror nearthe door. I’m not wearing my clerical clothes tonight. Just a dark blue T-shirt and a pair of worn jeans. No collar. No vestments.

Just me.

I stalk to the mini bar and pull out the small bottle of expensive whiskey. I don’t care how much it costs. Right now, I need a drink. I pour a generous amount into one of the prettily displayed crystal tumblers and take a sip. The whiskey cuts a warming path right down the center of my chest.

My phone buzzes from where I’d set it on the desk beside my laptop, the sound loud and harsh in the silent hotel suite. When I pick it up, my heart starts pounding even harder.

It’s time.

I sink down into the leather desk chair and flip open my laptop. I’ve already got the auction site open, and I quickly log in. I see other users start to populate the auction page, and my stomach churns. I close my eyes, my fingers hovering over the keys.

“Lord, forgive me for what I’m about to do,” I say quietly. “Guide me, be with me, and whatever happens, watch over Olivia and keep her safe.”

The page refreshes and there’s a new photo of Olivia on the page. Her impossibly long hair is down, almost reaching her waist, and she’s smiling in front of a willow tree, the sun turning her olive skin golden. She’s wearing a pretty blue and white sundress I’ve seen her wear to mass in the recent past. My heart clenches at the sight of her, and a single word seems to beat through my body.

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