The Rule of Sebastian by Shelter Somerset

Author:Shelter Somerset [Somerset, Shelter]
Language: nld
Format: epub
Tags: erotic MM, Romance MM
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

CHANTING voices filled the chapel. Crying out to

Heaven. Beseeching for peace, for an inward

understanding

of

all

that

embodied

pure

knowledge.

A week had passed since that horrible day of

finding JC’s body in the walk-in freezer, and Ash

Wednesday descended over them like a faraway

truth pushing against dreams. Harsh, cold winds

outside shook them from their stupor. Confusion

and suspicions grew.

Sebastian studied their faces, eyes, body

language. Even old, crippled Brother Augustine,

whom Brother George had wheeled to the chapel

for the special Mass. One of them held onto a

singular notion: Guilt. But none imparted anything

more than incredulity. Casey showed signs of

shame—his head low, eyes slightly closed and

mouth drooping. But certainly his expression came

from what had occurred between them in the

shower room on Saturday, not from the guilt of a

murderer.

Sebastian didn’t share his shame. Maybe he

experienced regret that things couldn’t go further.

Or frustration that he’d opened himself to

vulnerabilities, the ones he’d hoped to keep

capped forever. And disappointment that he might

have dragged poor Casey into the same arena that

he loathed whenever Father Paolo misled naïve

postulants. But not shame.

He didn’t wish to speak to Casey about what

had happened. He didn’t like to share his feelings;

his actions spoke for themselves. And now Lent sat

upon their shoulders, ushering in a new level of

austerity, a new season of self-restraint. He and

Casey had exposed themselves to each other in the

shower room in an act of finality before the going

without. Their personal Fat Tuesday—played out

on a Saturday afternoon with a slap of rushing

water and hazy steam.

Father Paolo read from Scripture. The Lord’s

message enveloped Sebastian. On the police force,

he’d used the power of God to pull him through the

ugliness of crime—and the loneliness of his

personal life. He’d hope and pray. Was there a

way to vindicate JC’s death and perhaps save the

brother responsible?

In some ways, prayer had become a habit.

He’d been doing it since he was a boy. God could

not abandon him now, after he’d devoted so much

of his life to asking for guidance. Not when the

abbey needed him more than ever.

Why had JC uttered the name Manny?

Did the misplaced fillet knife factor into the

crime?

Had the killer snatched it to kill again?

What object had he used to strike JC? Had he

smashed it over his head in a fit of rage, disgusted

with JC for his rude behavior, like the rest of

them? And where had he discarded it? There were

few hiding places in the abbey. Not even the

incinerator could conceal hard evidence.

Yet the most anguishing reflection on

Sebastian’s mind was this: No one had come

forward to claim responsibility a week after his

crime. A Trappist, even if he’d lost control in a

blinding rage, must know the importance of

renouncing his sin before God and his fellow

brothers. Unless….

Unless the brother was a sociopath and

lacked the normal human conscience needed to

understand the severity of his crime. Sebastian had

stared into the eyes of psychopaths before. None of

the brothers exhibited the empty yet piercing

expression of a madman. Implausible.

The more Sebastian pondered, the less

anything made sense.

God, come to my assistance; Lord, make

haste to help me.

Sebastian uttered the prayer, hoping to find

clues in it. The verses did not come to him like

music. This time, they inched up inside him,

stalagmites cleaving to his soul.

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