“Understanding your wounds will help you forgive yourself,” Father Cruz went on. “If you don’t forgive yourself, Jesus’s death was for naught.”
I needed a moment to digest those words. A part of me wanted to argue, but one didn’t argue with the abbot. Especially not if he was correct.
“Not to mention the enemy loves to use sexual immorality and everything that revolves around it as a weapon against us. Look at the world. Sex sells, and it comes in many different forms. Not even we priests and monks are safe from those attacks.” A shadow darkened Father Cruz’s eyes. “By saying that I don’t excuse the many cases of child abuse that have happened in the Catholic Church. It makes me sick. Back in the day so much that I thought about leaving the priesthood behind.”
I had to think of Rome. He was an impressive and terrifying man, but how many people knew what had been done to him as a kid? His reaction to my confrontation showed how deep the scars ran.
“Why did you stay a priest?” I asked Father Cruz.
“I decided to become the kind of priest who defied the bad image of the Catholic Church.”
“I’m glad you stayed,” I said quietly. “You had a huge impact on my life.”
He waved a hand in the air. “We’re getting off track. No matter what the consequences of your actions will be, you’ll have to forgive yourself eventually. You owe it to your Savior.”
“What are the consequences?” I dared to ask the question that had been burning a hole into my gut ever since I’d first kissed Harley.
Father Cruz heaved a deep sigh. “I’m still praying about that.”
More waiting. Definitely deserved that.
A knock came at the door.
He held up a finger and rose. The old wood floor creaked under his weight when he crossed the room to the door.
“Pardon my intrusion,” Matt’s voice carried inside, “but you and Brother Samuel have a visitor. It’s urgent.”
My heart jackhammered in my chest as I craned my neck to see who it was. Was it Harley? Had she come back?
“Come on in.” Father Cruz stepped aside, and Keaton sauntered into the rectory. As always, he looked like he’d popped out of a magazine for luxury watches in his white dress shirt, black slacks, and leather shoes. But instead of displaying his usual easy smirk, his mouth was tight.
I punched to my feet. “What’s going on? Is Wentworth okay?” He was deployed. What if he’d gotten blown up? Shot?
“Relax, champ. He’s fine.” Keaton nodded at Father Cruz. “Thank you for allowing me to interrupt, Father. I think you’ll want to see this.” He unearthed his cell, navigated the screen, then passed it to me.
Father Cruz stood next to me, watching. The video showed the massive screen on Velvet Drive that usually played commercials. Now it was black. A banner appeared:Saint James Monastery does it again.
My blood turned to ice when a video of me getting put into handcuffs followed. Then it switched to a dashboard camera clip of me choking out Harley’s ex and his accomplice. It didn’t look like defense, but like I was the one who’d attacked them. And then—
Terror and mortification punched me in the gut with a vengeance. How was this possible? How had someone filmed Harley and meinsidethe monastery? The fact that we weredecent and only making out in Serenity Lake wasn’t very reassuring. What other footage existed of us?
The video ended, and Keaton pulled his phone away. “You know I always told you you’d look good in the model business, but that’s not what I had in mind.”
I gave him a tortured smile, appreciating that he tried to lighten the mood. But my mood couldn’t be lightened. My sins were on display on Velvet Drive for the entire island to see. Probably on the internet, too, so the whole world knew what I’d done. What was a whole lot worse, though, was the damage this video would cause Saint James. Simply because of one man’s actions—mine.
I forced myself to look at Father Cruz, who’d said nothing the entire time. His expression was grimmer than I’d ever seen before. An apology burned a hole into my tongue, but I didn’t utter it. No words in the entire encyclopedia would make right what I’d done.
“If you would excuse me, gentlemen,” he said. “I have to make some phone calls. We’ll continue our talk later.” With that, he dismissed Keaton and me from the rectory.
Outside in the hallway, I palmed the wall for support. Forced air into my constricted lungs. Every inhale felt like I was breathing fire.
“Hey.” Keaton squeezed the back of my neck. “I know this all looks screwed up right now, but it’ll be fine. God is in control. Nothing happens without His permission, remember?”
I nodded numbly. Yeah, I did remember. But the damage was done—everything because of my idiotic decisions.
The question was just how bad the repercussions were.
Chapter 27
