Father Figure by Jane Harvey-Berrick

Author:Jane Harvey-Berrick [Harvey-Berrick, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781941665459
Publisher: Bolero Books
Published: 2020-05-06T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Two

Mariana

I’d dreamed that Gabriel had come to me in the night and had woken hot and sweaty, a mess of confusion and rage, desire and despair.

Somehow, I had to get my own back on Gabriel.

I brooded all day, toying with various ways of punishing him or humiliating him—until I came up with a plan for evening prayers tonight.

Six pm was a good time to catch commuters on their way home from work. Or some of them seemed to be on their way home via a bar. If I had to pray to some almighty sky-captain who defined my life and told me how to live, I’d want a drink or three beforehand, as well.

I took a seat in the farthest corner of the church, at the back but with a clear view of the altar and where Gabriel would be standing for most of the ritual. St. Peter’s was so good they named it twice, ha ha. It was one of those big old churches, like a hundred years old, built when people still cared about religion. Even Father Oh Em Gee couldn’t fill this one.

I’d attended as many of the church services as I could stomach. I thought I’d learn something, but it still seemed like a bunch of mumbo jumbo to me. On the other hand, if I let it wash over me, the rhythm and rise and fall of the words was restful, soothing, almost hypnotic, so maybe that was the point after all. A teacher told me about some Russian dude once who said that ‘religion was the opium of the people’ and I think now that I understood what he meant. Although as far as understanding Faith, I was still at the starting gate.

It seemed to me that religion was like one of those clubs with secret words and handshakes: you either knew them or you didn’t, and if you didn’t, you’d always be on the outside.

Sure, the words were soothing, but I could get the same effect by listening to Drake.

But I didn’t want soothing today, I didn’t want relaxing—I wanted to be on edge, and I sure as hell wanted Gabriel to be wound up so tight he’d burst. I was going to defile his pretty church.

He started the service with the sign of the Cross and a prayer, and I made sure he saw me. His deep, rich, hypnotic voice didn’t change but his eyes locked on mine, and I could see the question and concern behind them. I didn’t smile and I didn’t lose eye contact. Instead, I raised my hand to my mouth, sucked in my index finger and ran my tongue around it. Then I spread my legs and let my hand trail over my breasts, across my waist and under my skirt, my eyelids drooping as my hand made the first swipe across my pussy.

Gabriel’s eyes widened, but he didn’t miss a beat, then he turned away and the choirboys started singing something ear-achingly dull.

Just knowing that

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