Fear the Wicked (Illusions Series Book 2)(58)



“Of course, I remember, it’s why we brought him in. I need you to go back to bed, beautiful girl. You don’t need to witness what we’re doing.”

Her gaze had drifted back to where the two men stood, but at my response, it darted back to me. “Elijah. I don’t understand. What are you going to do with him?”

“He raped another woman, Eve. We can’t let a demon like him continue roaming the streets and looking for other people to hurt like he hurt you. You know this is God’s plan. You know I’m supposed to stop these men. You helped me learn about him the night he found you wandering and now we’ll deal with him so he can’t hurt again.”

Her hair shifted over her shoulder as she nodded her head. Quietly turning to leave the room, she walked back through the door without another word.

When I finally turned back to walk over to James and the condemned, I had a renewed bounce to my step. Knowing who this bastard was would only make my job more entertaining.

“Let me show you back to the cages, James. You can lock him inside where you know he’ll be safe and give me some time to see if I can save him.”

“And what if you can’t?”

“Then we’ll decide how to deal with him.”

Appeased by that response, James led the man, kicking and screaming, through the large sanctuary, past the crosses, and down a hall that led to the room where Gentry had killed a man right in front of my eyes. I had no intentions for this son of a bitch to live past tonight, but in an effort to appear as Godly as possible – not to mention the fun to be had toying with him – I kept up the appearance of a concerned priest. If it’s true that Jacob made a mess of this asshole on the side of the road, I wondered how it was he didn’t recognize me.

I’d find out soon enough, but before I could question him, I needed James to lock him safely away. In truth, I could handle the asshole myself, but fighting wasn’t exactly the typical behavior of a priest.

It made me laugh to think Jacob had gotten away with it, that he’d hidden his violence in the week it had taken him to go mad.

Opening the door, I held it for James to drag the man through, and remained unmoving until I heard the metal door of the cage snap shut. James passed me again on his way out and made a small motion for me to follow him back into the hall.

The door closed behind us before he breathed the first word. “Do you really think you can save this guy? I’m almost positive today wasn’t the first time he hurt a woman.”

Positive of the same thing myself, I smiled kindly and touched his shoulder. “At least let me try, Sheriff Holmes. God would want that. You can’t let yourself forget that all sin should be forgiven, unless of course the evil has sunk so far in that it can’t be stripped from the afflicted.”

“And what do we do with him then?”

“Then you take him to jail and let him answer for his crime. If he mentions this place, we’ll deny it. Who do you think they’ll believe? The Sheriff and the town priest? Or some greasy rapist who thought he could get away with hurting innocent women?”

Nodding his head once in agreement, James shot one more look at the door leading to the cage. “If you need anything, you come and get me. I’ll be waiting in the sanctuary and praying that God directs your hand. You are a good man, Priest. A little too good in my opinion, but that’s to be expected. I’m not sure how you find the forgiveness inside you for scum like him.”

My smile widened, a practiced expression that set my parishioners at ease. “God is a powerful source of love and forgiveness, James. We just have to remember to let him in.”

He nodded again and made his way down the hall. Once he was out of view, I turned to walk inside the door, my back leaning against the wood so that I could look at the asshole trapped in his cage.

“Well, well. What do we have here? I’m surprised you don’t remember me.”

The man squinted his eyes in my direction, his mind obviously scouring itself for what I meant. After several seconds, recognition finally lit his eyes as his eyebrows soared up his forehead.

“I really was beat down by a priest, wasn’t I? I can’t fucking believe it, I thought I’d dreamt the fucking night up and that I’d gotten jumped by someone else.”

This time, the smile did reach my eyes. “You must have been piss drunk, especially if you couldn’t remember getting your ass handed to you by a priest.”

Once he recognized that I wasn’t opposed to becoming violent, his fuck you demeanor fell silent. Quickly approaching the bars of his cage, he wrapped his hands around them, desperation flooding his expression.

“Listen, man. Can’t we talk this out? I just want to go to jail and serve my time. I don’t want to deal with whatever it is you two have in store for me. Please, Father! You’re a man of God. Isn’t there any mercy inside you?”

Laughter bubbled from my chest. “A man of God? How can you be so sure?”

Eyes scanning me, his brows drew together in confusion. I allowed him to process the confusion, to work through the conundrum that he was staring at a man dressed as a priest, but took too much satisfaction in claiming he wasn’t. Leaning against a wall, I faced the poor slouch and crossed my legs at the ankles, relaxing as I scanned him in turn.

Brown greasy hair, red rimmed and bloodshot, beady eyes, a body that at one time may have been strong, but was now withering and potbellied from alcohol and drugs. It wasn’t hard to see the signs. I knew men like him. They always came into the family after falling on hard times and eventually took my words to strengthen themselves for God.

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