Mysterious Ways by Julia Talbot

Author:Julia Talbot [Talbot, Julia]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, pdf
Publisher: Torquere Press, Inc.
Published: 2013-01-20T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

The silence stretched until Jacob was afraid they would all simply sit there and stare forever. He broke first and made a convulsive move toward his clothes, but Gianni caught him and rolled protectively on top of him, shielding him from Cecilia. Damien glared at his sister and told her to leave them alone so they could dress. She nodded, and turned to go. She looked back over her shoulder and said, “I will see you all in an hour. In the green room.” Then she was gone.

He struggled, and Gianni moved off him, helping him to his feet. They dressed without speaking, but Jacob could feel their eyes on him, asking questions. Too bad he had no answers. He wasn’t sure what to do or how to feel. He knew what he had done was wrong. Catastrophically so. He knew that as it stood, his soul was in mortal danger, as were his vows as a priest. But he didn’t feel the panic he thought he would. He was numb to that. All he could feel was Damien’s come sliding down his belly and the twinge of pain in his back from being pressed to the ground. He moved slowly, like an old man.

Finally dressed, Jacob cast about for his mask, and found that it had rolled under the garden bench. The nose and tongue had broken off where they protruded form the face. Jacob stared at it for several moments, and started when Gianni put a hand on his shoulder. He looked at them, these two that had made him give up the promises of a lifetime of service to God, and he couldn’t bring himself to be angry. Not at them, and not at him. He was just numb.

The trip back to the house was just as quiet. Damien and Gianni kept touching each other, and Jacob had become used to their private language, for he knew it was reassurance. They were waiting for the explosion. That really wouldn’t be fair. Jacob could’ve left. He could have resisted the lure of the flesh. Their flesh. He was the weak one, the one to blame, not them. A sound, like a sob, burst from his throat and they were there, holding him, surrounding him with their warmth and the smell of their sex. He wanted to just rest there, to stay, so he didn’t have to worry about facing up to his actions. But he couldn’t, and he stepped away. Jacob patted them both on the arms and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it,” was the message he tried to convey, but couldn’t actually get the words out.

The green room was deserted. Jacob poured himself a stiff drink, scotch he thought, from a side table and sat heavily in on of the club chairs strewn about the room. The twins took a sofa, presenting a picture of togetherness, no matter what the outcome. For at least a half hour they waited there without talking, the only sound in the room the ticking of the ormolu clock on the mantel.

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