Page 20 of Property of The Grump

What am I even doing? She’s in need of help. I shouldn’t have noticed the way her T-shirt hugs her frame. I shouldn’t have noticed the curve of her full breasts and the slight tips of her nipples.

Lord, please help me.

I rush to the back room to change into something respectable as I berate myself some more for the filthy thoughts I’m having, all while simultaneously wondering why she’s here at nearly midnight.

It can’t be good. Maybe it’s something with her parents or her husband. She said today she was having a hard time with the media. Maybe something took her over the edge.

Mind racing, jeans and T-shirt in place, I hustle back into the church, slowing my steps as I walk down the aisle toward the last pew where she’s sitting. I don’t want her to feel anxious around me, and if I’m moving a hundred miles an hour, she will.

“You look different without the collar,” she says, a tiny smile trying to break through the tears, which, for some fucking reason, sends a pulse to my perverted fucking cock.

“Better or worse? Should I go put it on? Will that make you more comfortable?”

“No,” she reaches her soft hand toward me, landing it on top of mine, “I’m just being silly. Thank you for letting me in. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“What happened?” I sit perfectly, unwilling to shift in fear of her hand moving away.

She bites her bottom lip and stares down at the ground. “What kind of confidentiality does a priest really have?”

“What do you mean?” I tilt my head to the side, my curiosity peaked as the wind slaps a branch against the window. I need to add a tree trimming to the list of things that need to get done around here.

“I mean, if I tell you something, can it stay between us? Like, are you bound by some kind of godly promise?”

“Whatever you tell me will stay between us.” I nod, my hand now holding hers, my thumb brushing the back of her soft, little wrist.

“Okay,” she says, staring up at the ceiling before glancing toward me. “I just left my husband.”

For some reason a pulse of excitement drives through my cock, as though now I have the right to claim her, though nothing’s further from the truth. It’s not true, and I’m sick for thinking it. She’s here for help. “You left him for the night, or is this something more permanent?”

“No, and I took what little money I had saved. I rented a car, I left him a note, and I drove away.” She glances down again and sighs. “After the day I spent here, I realized something. Has that ever happened to you? Have you ever done anything thatmade you see the choices you were making for your life were all wrong until that moment?”

I don’t answer, and I close my mind off to the possibilities it wants to conjure. “I can’t say I have. What was the realization?”

“When I was here today, I realized what it feels like to be accepted. Zane used to make me feel like that, but as he’s gotten more into politics, the more complicated everything becomes. He’s not the same as he was when we met. He’s,” she pauses and sighs, “not the same at all. Truth be told, I’m not sure he ever really cared about me. I think maybe he was just really good at faking it.”

My stomach clenches and I know she’s holding something back. Something bad. I can feel it in my bones. “Tell me more.”

She stares toward me for a long moment then pulls up her sleeve slowly, dark blue bruises adorning her arm.

My thumb continues to brush the back of her wrist, though I’m coming unhinged inside. Rage bubbles through me like a fucking storm as alarms rattle every inch of my body. I try to relax myself, but my jaw is clenching tight.

I am going to kill this man!

I’m going to fucking kill him!

“He did this the other night,” she says, tears falling off her cheeks, “and today when I got home, he was mad because I didn’t post to social media all day. He pushed me against the wall and screamed as loud as he could, then told me I wasn’t worth the trouble. That I was useless.” Her tears fall heavier now. “I don’t know… I was afraid to tell him I was done, so I waited for him to fall asleep and I left the note, ordered an Uber to the corner, and walked away. I’m done, but I know his family, and they’ll do something to make sure a divorce never happens. They’re all about showing face.”

“Then I’ll protect you,” I growl, the words scattering everywhere before I can clean them up. “Thechurchwill protect you. No one will ever do this to you again, Wren. You deserve better.”

She swallows hard and stares at me in the dim light of the church, the cross at the altar still lit by the moon, reminding me of the dream I had. Reminding me of the way I bent her over my desk, the way I’d made her mine. If she were mine, I’d never treat her like this. If she were mine, I’d never let a day go by without making sure she felt like a fucking angel.

Stop! She can’t ever be mine!

I’m sick,which is exactly why I should recommend she see another priest. I should recommend she find safety in another church. It’s the right thing to do. My intentions aren’t pure. My advice won’t be either.

These are facts. Facts that many priests have had to navigate. And yet, I lift my arm around her shoulder and tug her in against my chest, my chin resting on the top of her head as I stare at the cross at the front of the church.

“It doesn’t matter that I deserve better,” she says. “Everyone deserves something they’re not getting. This is a choice I made, a choice that cost me. I’m sure he has people out looking for me right now. I’ll never escape him.”