Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
In recent days, she’s opened up to me, telling me about her past. She thought she would scare me off. She doesn’t know me if she thinks I’ll scare easily. I would kill for her. Going to a meeting and supporting her recovery is the least I can do.
But she still fears my lifestyle. My brothers. Fraternitas. I must show her there’s a place for her. In my bed, as my woman. At my side, spoiled as my sweet pet. Kneeling at my feet, wearing my collar.
I will introduce her to my brothers and fight for them to accept her. And then I will teach her where she belongs.
Elodie
“I have an errand,” Jaeger tells me.
I’ve been sitting on the couch, scrolling social media on my phone with rom-coms playing in the background. I think about reaching out to friends from school, but it feels like my old life. When I read a few of their posts gushing over “Professor Roylin’s brilliant lecture,” my stomach got tight, and I deleted the app.
So when Jaeger insists I accompany him on this errand, I’m glad to get out of the penthouse.
He drives through the city, weaving through the high rises of midtown until the grand spires of a cathedral appear. St. Xavier’s. I recognize the shining, white stone and the grand church steps.
I expect Jaeger to illegally park right in front of it like he always does, but he turns into a small side parking lot with a wheelchair ramp entrance.
As Jaeger carries me in, the bells in the tower begin to toll. The place is hushed and smells clean, with a faint whiff of smoke and spices from the incense. He heads deep into the church, crossing a checkered marble floor and a line of white columns to enter the cavernous sanctuary.
My mouth falls open at the soaring high ceilings and gothic windows. I wasn’t raised Catholic, so I have no idea what scenes are depicted in the jewel-toned stained glass, but small golden plaques underneath announce the “Stations of the Cross.” In between the windows are a series of stone alcoves, each one with a different white marble statue. The place is opulent, far more than I realized. Maybe a lot of wealthy people attend church here, and the parish uses their donations to decorate, as well as run the school and orphanage.
There’s no one here now. I haven’t seen a hint of a single person. The quiet has a weight to it, and I clamp my lips shut, unwilling to disturb the sacred silence.
Jaeger strides confidently down the center aisle and sets me down in a polished pew. “Wait here.”
What? He walks past the altar and disappears into a small back door beyond the choir stands.
I sit uncomfortably, bathed in yellow and red light from one of the stained glass windows. In the quiet, I can hear the shrieks of children playing outside. It would make sense that the children’s home has a playground nearby.
What did Jaeger tell me? We attended mass only on the coldest days. I try to imagine him and his brother lurking in the back of this beautiful room, their skin chapped red from the cold. Father Francis founded the school. We brought street kids, the ones too young to fend for themselves. . .
“Can I help you?”
I jolt in my seat at the unexpected voice. A man stands in the aisle next to me. I didn’t hear him approach.
“Pardon me. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He puts out a hand and hovers it near my shoulder in a reassuring gesture, although he doesn’t touch me. He’s white, with thick, light brown hair and a short beard. He’s in his mid to late forties, with a weathered face.
He’s in black robes with a white collar and a large wooden cross on a chain around his neck. A priest.
“Um… I’m okay. I’m here with a friend. He said he had an errand.” I wave toward the front of the church where Jaeger went. “If I’m not supposed to be here, I can leave…”
“No, not at all. The church is open at all hours to anyone who wishes to worship.” He relaxes back against one of the pews, studying me.
I tense further. “Oh, I’m not here to… do that. I’m not religious.”
“I know why you’re here, Elodie.”
A chill runs through me. How does he know my name?
He chuckles. “I suspect Jaeger brought you here so we could meet.” His blue eyes crinkle with laugh lines, but something about his gaze is unnerving. “I’m Father Francis.”
10
Elodie
I stare up at the man Jaeger told me about.
“But…” Jaeger said Father Francis raised him. This man doesn’t look old enough to have raised a grown man. “I didn’t realize,” I finish.
Father Francis doesn’t seem ruffled by my scrutiny of him.
“I’ve known Jaeger a long time,” he says, as if he can hear my thoughts. “Since he was a boy. I took my position here when I was twenty-six. At the time, this was a poor parish with an aging clergy and a church building in need of renovation. No one wanted a position here.” He glances around the gorgeous sanctuary.