The Vows We Break: A Twisted Taboo Tale by Serena Akeroyd & G. A. Mazurke

Author:Serena Akeroyd & G. A. Mazurke [Akeroyd, Serena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Serena Akeroyd Publishing Ltd.
Published: 2020-06-15T23:00:00+00:00

Seven

Andrea

My apartment was only around the corner. I could have easily stayed there, except I didn’t want to.

I wanted to stay here.

When he offered me a room for the night after seeing me clutch at my aching head, who was I to turn him down?

Who was I to refuse when this was exactly where I was supposed to be?

Under his roof.

Sure, I’m not in his bed, but that will come with time.

He’s mine.

I just need to show him the way.

As I stare up at the wall that separates my bedroom from his, I wonder if he sleeps naked. Do priests do that? I mean, I told him he wasn’t a priest, but he kind of is.

Maybe, on the outside, he still is, but on the inside? Nope. He’s a regular Joe.

Which, honestly, makes his crimes that much worse.

My nose crinkles at the thought, and I choose to discount the word ‘crimes.’

Not that they’ll spare him whether he’s a man of the cloth or an everyday person.

Or would they?

Maybe I should research that just in case everything goes to shit.

It soothes me to know that we’re in the same house, and I curl up on my side, watching the wall like I can see through it.

My body aches from the day’s adventures and, truly, I need to sleep.

Though I stayed relatively calm throughout the ordeal downstairs, cleansing Savio’s back?

Nightmare.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it.

Not ever.

And I’ve dealt with friends who’d come to me after their spouse or partner had attacked them. Linda’s husband had accused her of cheating on him with one of his partners—he worked in a law firm. He bleached her fucking hand because, he said, it needed to be clean.

I mean, it made no sense to me. Unless he thought the partner had only received a hand job from Linda.

Is that what happened in extramarital affairs?

I guess there was more to the story than Linda told me, but dealing with the burns on her hand had been bad enough.

It soaked through enough tissue to damage the skin, but not to the same extent that the whip had to Savio’s back.

And the worse part of all?

It wasn’t to purge himself of sins, but to self-harm.

I don’t think even he registers that, and that concerns me.

He’s farther along this path than I could have ever expected, and the sad thing is, he thinks I’m the crazy one.

Sure, I think I’m an angel and I have wings and my brain has been operated on, but I function quite well among society.

I’m nice. People like me. They want to be my friend—even more so now that I’m famous, but in the grand scheme of things, they want to be friends with me, too, because I’m cool.

I like to help people—not to make myself feel good, but because I’m like that. I’m kind.

Not to sound bigheaded or anything, but there’s no point in lying about something like that, is there?

But Savio?

He’s dour.

I saw him chatter with the parishioners, sure. Priests don’t have to do that.

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