The Fall(64)

“I want to speak to Sister Catherine.” I casually moved to one of the pews and sat down making it clear that I wasn’t going anywhere.

“Sister Catherine?” He looked at me like I’d suddenly grown another head. “What is this about? And it’s the middle of the night.”

“So, wake her up. Or would you prefer me to do it?” My sick smile curled at the edges and I watched him visibly shrink into his skin.

“Is it that important?” He shifted on his feet uncomfortably possibly trying to play the hero and save his flock from the likes of me.

“Trust me, she’ll want to see me; we go way back.”

“Ssurely this can wait until later in the morning.” His hands shook as he wrung them nervously in front of him. “Perhaps there is something I can help you with.”

“No, it can’t and no you can’t. So get her.”

There was no room for debate. He was going to turn his happy collared ass around and get me the f*cking nun I wanted to see or I was going to go through the nunnery myself. It would be easier for all involved if he did it.

And I guess he had half a brain and decided to see it my way, taking a few backward steps before heading out a side wooden brown door.

He could be calling the cops, in which case I was going to be SOL. But I hadn’t laid a finger on him or made a threat. So telling 9-1-1 there was a scary dude in a church late at night wouldn’t be a top priority for the Chicago PD. And hopefully that urge to save me might translate into getting what I needed. And what I needed was to talk to the person who apparently saved my life. I wasn’t here to thank her either. I hated her just a tiny bit less than the whore who had birthed me.

“You asked for me?” She didn’t bother with the child or son, walking slowly out the side door. If she was scared, she wasn’t showing it, her face impassive as she took even strides toward me.

This wasn’t the first time she had made my acquaintance. We’d met once before when I’d come looking for answers. She’d tried to pull that shit then and it didn’t go so well for her. Especially when I threatened to hang her from that charming crucifix I loved so much using the thin red curtain ropes.

“You remember me?” I tilted my head, knowing the question was more rhetorical. She was older now. Her face was filled with deep set lines that cut into skin that might have once been pretty, but the years hadn’t been kind.

The priest who’d gone to summon her was waiting quietly close by; he didn’t have the same intel as his habit-wearing buddy, which was probably just as well. But to his credit, he didn’t move, locking himself in place a few feet away.

“Yes, Michael. I remember you.” Her wrinkled hand waved in the air to the * who’d been watching with hawk eyes. “You can leave us, Father Patrick. No harm will come to me.”

“But, Sister, this is highly irregular.” He cleared his throat, his feet doing the shuffle from underneath him. “I would feel a lot better staying.”

“She’s right.” I nodded slowly, leveling him with a stare. “I won’t touch her.”

“You heard him. You can go.” Another wave of the hand, this time she kept her eyes on me.

He hesitated a few seconds, probably fighting his own internal battle on what the right thing to do was, but eventually his feet got moving and took him back through the side door. I didn’t doubt he’d be close by, but for now he was gone and that was all that mattered.

“He’s well trained.” I tipped my chin to the closed door. The two of us left alone. “Tell me do all priests lose their balls when they put on the collar, or just the ones who work in this church.”

“What is it you want, Michael?” She sighed, closing her eyes slowly before opening them as she sat beside me. And while she didn’t appear to be in the mood for my shit, she wasn’t about to tell me that either.

“I need you to do something for me.” I leaned back against the hard surface of the pew, the wood creaking in protest under my weight.

“I’m sorry, but this is one place you can’t bully people into doing what you want.” She shook her head slowly, her hands calmly folded on to her lap. “We won’t be party to your criminal activity.”

“You’re assuming a lot.” Rage crept up the back of my neck, needling me that this bitch thought she had me all worked out. “You’re forgetting you don’t know me.”

“Why else would you be in a church in the dead of night?” She gave me a sideways glance. “I may have given my heart to God, but I still have my own mind. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.” She lifted her ass off the seat, ready to leave.

“You owe me, and you owe my mother,” I snarled, grabbing her arm, not willing to accept no for an answer. “You will do this for her.”

Well that got her attention. She stopped dead in her tracks, her ass dropping back down as she turned around to face me. “We have no idea who your mother is, you were abandoned.” Her voice lowered as did her head, and I knew right then and there that everything the maintenance man had told me was true. My mother had been one of them.

“Bullshit.” I smirked knowing I had her on the hook. “Just because you’ve been saying the lie for thirty years doesn’t make it any more true.” I barked out a laugh. “You still saying Hail Mary’s, or did you give up pretending you were a good person?”