Page 92 of Rogue
“Yes.”
So he doesn’t have a gun trained on me as we speak?I want to ask but given present company don’t.
“Go ahead. He needs you.”
I frown. “What makes you say that?”
“He’s suffered. Still suffers. As do you. Together you can heal,” says the all-knowing priest.
When did I become an ain’t-such-a-believer? Still, I wince. Just thinking about Jaxson suffering . . . because of me . . . “Did he tell you what happened between us?” I choke out.
About his time with Novák?
“Yes. He’s worried about you’re being lost in the catacombs. Blames himself for causing you misery.”
What?I narrow my eyes on the priest. “Are you telling me he’s suffering from guilt? From . . . abandoning me in the catacombs?”
“Eh,oui. He’s waiting to apologize. Nothing but a lover’s quarrel.” The priest stands. “Remember, love conquers all.”
I sigh. First the hairdresser, now him. How French, him being philosopher and a priest.
He winks in an all-knowing, not-so-priestly sort of way. “I’ll be in the garden while you kiss and make up.”
I flush.Sex, he thinks I mean sex. That Jaxson and I plan to raise the holy-loving rafters.
Damn it.
I search the heavens above but it’s not until I climb the spiral staircase leading into the choir loft that I see him.
He’s sprawled out on a choir stall, both legs up on the freshly polished wood and an arm resting across the seat back. Like a man without a care in the world. Except I know the truth.
“You bribed a priest?” I say, not without humor.
Disappointment creeps in when he doesn’t flash me that oh-so-familiar grin. Just like he used to do.
“Take a seat.”
“I prefer to stand.”
“Sit your sweet ass down. We need to talk.”
I let out a long exhalation, my irritation now a third party in the room. His lips lift upward. A smile? But it’s gone in a blink. “You make me crazy.”
“The feeling’s mutual.”
I take a seat next to him. Close but not touching. I have the sinking feeling we’ll never touch again.
“What have you learned about Novák?”
I swallow back my disappointment. I thought this discussion was him open to me clearing the air. Filling in the gaps between distrust and disloyalty. Despite the knowledge that if I share with him what I know, it’ll bring him one step closer to terminating my mark, this is a test in trust. My olive branch. Without the olives, of course.
“I’ll share if you agree to leave the termination to me.”
“Not going to happen.”
I glare at him.
And damn it, he grins. It catches me off guard, like a rainbow after a thunderstorm. Brilliant in its own right. Beautiful, like Jaxson himself. “Fine. But understand this. Game on.”
