Confess (Sin City Salvation 1)

“I enrolled you into the GED program,” I told her. “You start on Monday.”

Her face blanched. “But what about work?”

“That was just a stepping-stone. You need to focus on school now.”

“I don’t want to go to school,” she protested.

I held out my hand. “Come here, pet.”

She hesitated, though ultimately gave in, coming to stand in front of me. I handed her back the list. It should have been the end of it, but I knew what I needed to do. And also, what I wanted to do. I pulled her into my lap, and she gasped.

“You did good,” I praised her with a featherlight touch against her arm. “I like it when you do what I say.”

She swallowed. I wanted to kiss her, but I didn’t. I needed to have some self-control because once I started, I wouldn’t stop.

“What are you afraid of?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she answered quietly. “I just don’t want to go.”

“You’re an intelligent girl. It’s time you put that intelligence to use.”

She looked away. “What good will a GED do me?”

“It’s a start,” I said. “And then you can take the next step, whatever that may be.”

She was quiet, and I doubted she’d accepted it that easily, but regardless, she was done arguing about it for the time being. I adjusted our bodies and narrowed the gap between us, resting her head against my shoulder. Her body was far from relaxed, but she didn’t move. Not even when I played with her hair.

Not even when I kissed her forehead.

“FORGIVE ME, FATHER, FOR I have sinned.”

“How long has it been since your last confession?” Father Hawk asked.

“I think you know.”

There was silence, and then he shifted, bowing his head forward. “How are you?”

He never addressed me by name because I’d never given it to him, and he had never asked. I liked the anonymity of it at first, but I didn’t anymore.

“What’s your first name, Father Hawk?”

I wasn’t sure if he was supposed to answer, so I was surprised when he did.

“Cristian.”

I toyed with the rubber band between my fingers, snapping it against my skin to ease my nerves. “My name’s Gypsy, just so you know.”

I figured it didn’t matter at this point if I revealed at least that much. Lucian already knew my secrets anyway, so there was no running anymore. Not really.

Cristian didn’t answer, and I wondered what he was thinking. He was young for a priest. Maybe about thirty, if I had to guess. He was handsome too, and I could have pictured him living an entirely different life from the one he’d chosen. If I saw him in street clothes, I would have never known he was a religious figure. But maybe that’s what I liked about him. He was a modern representation of an ancient religion, and he didn’t judge me for the things I told him. I had a notion that was why Lucian liked him too.

“How long have you known Lucian?” I ventured.

“You know I can’t answer that.”

I shrugged. It was worth a try. “You must know him pretty well for him to call you when he’s sick. At first, I thought there was no way it could be a coincidence.”

“What?” Cristian asked.

“Both of us coming to this church. It seemed like there was some sort of connection, and you were the only link.”

“I would never betray your trust,” Cristian answered solemnly.

“I know. I’m just telling you the thought crossed my mind at first.”

“Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind today,” he suggested. “What brought you here?”

“I’m not sure.” I snapped the band again. “I’ve been with Lucian for two weeks now, and he thinks he’s going to send me back to school.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

I leaned back against the wood panel and blew out a breath. “I don’t know. It’s weird. I always wanted my sister to go so she could make something of herself, but I never really thought about doing it myself.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” My voice grew quiet. “I wasn’t sure that I could make anything of myself. I’m still not.”

“It’s scary for you to step outside your boundaries,” Cristian observed.

I nodded, forgoing a verbal response. Honestly, I wasn’t sure why I was telling him any of this. I knew the whole point of coming here was to confess my sins, but it always ended up being more like a counseling session somehow. And today, after signing up for class, I felt like I needed to come here.

“What makes you so uncertain about your future?” he prompted.

“I don’t know. I’m only good at one thing, and it isn’t a good thing.”

He lowered his voice and leaned closer. “Conning people?”

“Yes.”

“I believe there is much more to you than that.”

“Not really.” I sank into myself the way I usually did when someone tried to give me a compliment. “After my mom left, Ricky only kept us in school when it suited him. I can’t even remember the last grade I made it through.”