A Bad Habit - Taking The Leap

“Of course, Beth,” he says gently taking my arm, helping me into one of his coats, and leading me out of the building. We get into a different SUV then I used earlier and drive away from the church. We are in the car for less than ten minutes when he pulls into the parking lot of a fancy hotel.

“We’re staying here?” I ask. It’s my turn to be confused.

“It’s the closest hotel to the church,” he says.

“Oh, okay,” I say but for some reason, I don’t believe him.

“Alright. The closet in this direction,” he says grinning at me.

“That’s better,” I say, laughing.

In the lobby of the hotel, he checks into the only room they have, but at least it’s a two-room suite. Before we go upstairs, two detectives and a fire investigator come up to us.

“Father, I am Detective Fallon, this is Detective Jones and Inspector Kelly. “We have had a string of church fires in the area. This is the fifth one in as many nights. What can you tell us about the blaze?”

“It wasn’t huge. A Molotov cocktail, I presume since a broken bottle of vodka was just under the broken window.

“Familiar with those, are you?” Inspector Kelly asks.

“I grew up in Belfast with the IRA,” he says by way of explanation and all three men nod solemnly. I learned about them in school. It was not a great way to live.

“And where were you when you heard the noise?” Detective Jones asks, poised to write down the answers.

“In bed. Both of us were,” Jacob explains to which all three men look up with raised eyebrows.

“What Father O’Riley means is that we were in our separate beds. Separate rooms,” I reply hastily. Probably too hastily to be believable. Jacob laughs and puts his arm around my shoulder. I try to duck it, but it’s no use. I can’t think when he’s near me, but touching me? Forget about it.

“Of course, Sister?” he pauses long enough for me to supply my name.

“Mary Elizabeth,” I reply smiling at the men.

“What a pretty name,” Inspector Fallon says. Jacob’s hand on my shoulder tightens and I don’t know why.

“Thanks,” I say just wanting this conversation to be over.

“All right, we will be in touch,” Detective Jones says and all three men hand Jacob their cards. They leave and we make our way up to our room.

When did I start referring to him as Jacob, even to myself?

He walks me to the door of the bigger room and grabs my forearm to stop me from walking in.

“Are you okay, Beth?”

“Yes, of course,” I tell him. Growing up in an orphanage makes you pretty resilient to change, even emergencies.

“I’ll be just next door if you need me,” he says resting his large hand on my cheek again.

“Alright,” I say leaning into his touch. I am a glutton for his touch and that thought frightens me. Frightens me to the point of turning away from him again even though I don’t want to. Closing the door behind me, I lean on it. I hear his hand come down on the door. His breathing is loud, even though the thick wood.

“This is weird for me too, darling,” he says before walking away.

I want to shout at him to come back. To help me. Guide me away from the urges or steer me toward them but I know that would be wrong.

Oh, God, why are you testing me? I ask in silent prayer. For the first time, there is no response. What am I supposed to make of that?

Chapter Six

Jacob

Every second in her presence makes it harder and harder to not take her. Not that I’d know what I’m doing but I do understand the basic biology of it from school. At six in the morning, I leave the room and seek out the gym. Every morning begins with a workout. Today, I am going at it much harder than I usually do. My frustrations are at an all-time high. I need her like I need oxygen. I wonder if it’s because it’s the first time in forever I have been in close proximity with a young woman, but I quickly dispel that. I was a healthy kid growing up. Went to a coed Catholic school. I’ve been around girls before and I never wanted them the way that I want her. She’s ethereally beautiful, like a dark angel, but it’s more than that. She’s sweet and cares for me. Cares about me. If I didn’t know better, I could swear that I’m in love with her. Instantly and irrevocably.

When I return to the room, she’s up and pacing but not dressed yet. She’s wearing the same ridiculously threadbare pajamas as last night, only this time I can see her nipples. Her perfect, perfect nipples. I have a sudden urge to bite them, to mark them. I am just wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a sweat-soaked t-shirt.