Sin You: A Taboo Priest Romance (Dark Tales Book 5) by Teresa Wolf

Author:Teresa Wolf [Wolf, Teresa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-10-20T16:00:00+00:00

Bethany DeWitt’s rude interruption broke me away from Enya and was an incredible inconvenience. I am getting comfortable with my new situation. Contemplating the wrath of God is one thing, but do I fear it? Yes and no.

I know what I’ve done and what it means moving forward. I will leave the priesthood, relinquish my vows, and become. . . ordinary. In some distant future, I will return to a parish and confess my sins, asking for absolution for them.

Enya’s mine and I will never look back. Weeks of turmoil were reduced to dust after a single splendid afternoon with her. If God’s wrath extends from this world into the next, I will face his decision on my Judgment Day. For now, I will live my life with the woman who’s claimed my heart.

A warm wind hits me, as I watch Bethany DeWitt drive past Saint Catherine’s Weeping Angel statue and towards the road. She spent an hour and a half in the confessional, blabbing all sorts of nonsense about Marlon. When Bethany’s finally disappeared down the road, my thoughts return to Enya. After the revelation we shared, I won’t make it through the night without seeing her again.

I waste a couple of hours eating dinner and waiting for the moon. Once the sun’s down, I get in my Buick Continental and start the short journey into Priest River. I’d have walked to keep my anonymity, but the longing is killing me. I park a few houses down from Enya’s, and turn my headlights off.

There’s still movement in the street. A woman is walking back from the store with paper bags clutched in their arms like two little babies. Not she needs any more, considering the three trailing behind her. Two houses over, a man’s sitting on his porch in a rocking chair, smoking a cigarette. Finally, a family is lighting up a barbecue to cook their evening meal.

Of course, the one night I’m most eager to see Enya, and the street’s alive. I spend a few hours flicking through a novel from the Continental’s glove box. Some Stephen King horror about a mad scientist conducting experiments on chimps. A fine read that doesn’t hold my interest very long.

As late evening turns into night, the street goes quiet. The last of the flock return to their homes and lock up their doors.

Thank you, Lord.

Before I can get out of my car, two men step out of a white van that’s been parked outside the Garraway house since I arrived on their street. They’re muscular, in tight shirts and baggy jeans. An overhanging streetlamp blinks periodically giving me a better view of them. One, who’s holding a brown bag like to the mother from earlier, has a Mohawk atop his head. The last remnants of washed-out green cling to the golden locks it’s artificially attached to. The second is bald and sweaty, and although he’s muscular, his belly sticks out from underneath his shirt.

“What do we have here?” I lean over the steering wheel, squinting to get a better view of them.

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