by Ava Lohan
He closed his eyes. “I wanted to have some fun, freak out the priest by telling him some highlights from my life. You know... something out of his routine.” He came closer until his lips nearly grazed mine and his body pressed against me. I could feel his calm breath. I could feel mine, short and afraid. “The priest wasn’t here, though. You were.”
He licked his lips, forcing me to swallow loudly. The muscles in my neck tensed.
“I wanted to tell him about this morning,” he said into my ear, lowering his voice as if he were telling me a secret. “I fucked two sisters. Manhattan heiresses. As rich as they were horny. One of them was old enough to be my mother.”
He turned his head, revealing a smile. Surely a card he played to make women fall at his feet. But I wore the veil. I had to maintain control. Even if his body was crushing mine. Even if my habit could not hide that I was relishing the experience. I could feel him getting excited. He was thoroughly enjoying this. His erection pressed against my side, and my core throbbed.
“You should’ve seen and heard them, both of them. And there’s more, Sister,” he warned. His eyes fixed on me, and I had no idea what to expect from him.
“Three hours ago, I got a blowjob from one of my grandfather’s men. Then he wanted me to put it in his ass, and when I did, he came immediately.”
Jesus. I was certain he was trying to shock me with these revelations—and he had—but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. It took all my strength to appear unfazed as his smile widened.
“It took a lot out of him, but he was more than satisfied.”
Before entering the convent, I’d had some experiences with boys. I’d known kisses and sex since I was fifteen. One could say I was a bit early with my firsts. I’d wanted to break the rules, to push against what my parents wanted me to be. A good girl. My family was strict, obsessed with morality, with prayers and faith. There were so many things that were forbidden, and too few that were allowed. And so I’d started to rebel, to drink, to smoke, and to tell my parents I was going to study and sleep over at Jenna’s house, when we were really going out to the club and letting older guys buy us drinks. Her mom had played along. Unlike my parents, she was of the idea that the best way to keep teens under control was to give them complete freedom. It had worked with Jenna. She never got really drunk. That probably wouldn’t have worked for me, though. Or maybe it would have. Maybe then I would have been more careful, like Jenna.
The boy from the confessional took a step back and I escaped from his grip.
“That’s not hard to believe,” I said sarcastically.
He oozed sex from every pore and he knew it. I could feel him watching me, but I didn’t turn to confirm it.
“And I also believe you would’ve shocked Father Abel with your impure acts. He would’ve prayed for you, for your salvation. Then you would have gone home and committed another sin.”
“Yes, the priest would have been shocked, both by my language and by what I’d said. You don’t seem so worked up, though, since you listened to my little story with your mouth wide open.”
I shook my head and made my way down the street, heading straight for the convent. He followed me without saying another word. Maybe they were all lies. Just random things off the top of his head to get some attention. Or maybe he was just a bored college student? A gigolo? So young? I wrapped my hand around my crucifix and said an Our Father. I was so attracted to him that I could still feel his body on mine.
The prayer didn’t work.
“Damn him,” I muttered.
As a novice, I should have never said such a thing. But my body felt like it was summer all over again, and it was all his fault. I couldn’t feel the cool autumn air. If he had shown up a year ago, I would have jumped him right in that confessional. I would have told him so many lies. Knowing this about myself bothered me, especially because I suspected he knew I was far from indifferent. Why else would he still be following me? I glimpsed his shadow on the asphalt as we headed to the convent.
“Planning on stalking me for long?” I snapped, turning suddenly.
He nodded. Now I was fuming.
“As long as it takes to get you to confess to something worth hearing. A steak pie is boring. I know you can do better. I’ll help you.” He gave me one of his breathtaking smiles.
“I don’t think so,” I shot back with a sneer.
I realized a half second too late that this would only provoke him. He bit his lip and threw what was left of his cigarette into the street. He caught up with me again, pouncing on me like a cat on a mouse. I thrust out my arms to prevent him from coming any closer, even though a slight tremor betrayed my bravery.
He respected my limit and flashed me a grin. “You’re not from New York. Did you come here of your own will, or did your sisters make the choice for you? And the veil? What is it? Trying to spite your mom and dad?”
He was right. I wasn’t from New York. Up until six months prior, I had lived in middle-of-nowhere Aldon, Georgia.
I glared at him with fire in my eyes. “And I bet you’re a disgustingly rich spoiled boy from some prestigious private school who’s home on vacation and whose idea of fun is living in excess.”
“That’s a pretty accurate description, but I’m actually much worse.”
Before I could stop him, he grabbed my hands and pulled me toward him. It seemed innocent enough, our interlocking fingers, but from the look on his face, it was clear this was anything but pure. He pushed his palms against mine. I blushed and his smile widened.
“Is it so obvious that I’m rich, Sister...? What’s your name?”
He was truly interested in my response.
“A little bit,” I admitted, avoiding his second question.
He shrugged his shoulders and let me go. He looked at the sky, darkening with every minute, and then around the street.
“Let me walk you back to the convent,” he said.
And I let him. We walked back in silence. I thought he was done taunting me as we approached the gate. I wondered if his excitement was still visible through his jeans or if the moment had passed. I bit my tongue. He wasn’t excited because of me. It would have happened with any other woman in my place. He didn’t want me. Men got excited over nothing. Even Paul had given in to seduction in just minutes, despite the fact that he had been my best friend’s boyfriend. That’s just how men were, and I didn’t want to have anything to do with them anymore.
We reached the gate. Now it was pitch black out. We were parting ways forever.
“You never told me your name.”
The sound of his voice electrified me once more. I smiled, my hands wrapped firmly around the cold metal gate, knowing he couldn’t see me. “You don’t need to know it. We’re never going to see each other again. I don’t want to know yours either.”
I was lying. But knowing his name would make it so much harder to get him out of my head. It meant associating a name to a face and to a perfect body that would make me feel new sensations that night. And the next day. And the next. If I didn’t know his identity, he would be like a ghost, one that could vanish quickly. Or at least that’s what I hoped.
He placed his hands on mine. I could feel his warm touch on the back of my hand and the cold metal on my palm. I turned halfway as he observed me attentively. His eyes were practically devouring me.
“You’re forgetting something.”
I looked at him, confused.
“A gift for your next confession,” he whispered, as if it were obvious what he was about to do.
He planted his lips on mine. Oh God, this guy was so hot that a standard peck on the lips just wouldn’t do. I grabbed his jacket and pulled him closer. With my eyes closed and mouth open, right there in front of the convent, where any of my sisters could have seen. I wanted more.
But he wouldn’t give it to me.
I groaned with frustration. Instead of accepting my invitation and slipping his tongue into my mouth,
he pulled away and chuckled in satisfaction. I hated him for it.
“Next time you confess, you will tell your priest that today, you wanted a stranger to kiss you, to touch you, and to fuck you.” He ran his thumb over his lips. “And that you will keep thinking of him for a long time.”
I didn’t know what to say. It was like he had stolen my voice, as Ursula had stolen Ariel’s in The Little Mermaid. Then he turned and walked away, leaving me alone in front of the gate.
Chapter Three
Mother Superior was waiting in her office for me to give her the contract, signed or not. I could already picture her there, sitting at her desk, waiting to know what the future had in store for all of us. She hadn’t taken her eyes off me for one minute, from breakfast to prayers and even at lunch, making me feel like a woman approaching the gallows.
I walked up the steps, holding the piece of paper to my chest. It was as light as a feather, but it felt like a boulder in my arms, so heavy were its contents. This time, unlike before, I didn’t smile at my sisters as I passed them in the hallways. Judging by their troubled expressions, I must’ve looked awful. I was nervous, overcome with anxiety.
Every step felt like torture. I made it to the third floor and took a final look at the paper.
After completing my routine, I had spent the morning reading the contract until I knew it by heart. I must have spent an hour, first with the pen in my hand, then with it between my teeth to play with the cap. An hour placing the ballpoint on the paper and lifting it back up. Right until the very last minute. I had to make a decision. Everything depended on me, and I was not happy about it at all.
There, in black and white: Kegan Anderson would donate the Saint Clare Convent to the sisters who resided there if, in exchange, Rose Davis—that’s me—would agree to be his for two weeks. The paper also stated that Mother Superior and Father Abel would work to allow me to complete my novitiate and that nobody was to know anything about our agreement, except those involved.
His. Like some sort of sex slave. That was what he asked of me.
I squinted my eyes and continued down the hallway in silence. The sound of my footsteps followed me, like Kegan’s had on that autumn day. A wave of rage washed over me, mixing with another wave of pure excitement. I thought that day had disappeared from his memory long ago. But he hadn’t been able to forget me either. Only God knew what he had been doing these past two years. One thing was for sure: he hadn’t taken a vow of chastity, nor had he spent his days in prayer and his nights fantasizing about me, like I had about him. He was right, it had taken me a long time to forget about him. About his face that I wanted to slap, about his eyes, and about his hands on my body. Months. A year. Almost two. I had never said a word about any of it to Father Abel.
Wanting that immoral boy was a sin I had kept to myself, promising I would tell the priest during my last confession as a novice, just before taking my vows.
And that was the only thing Kegan Anderson had been wrong about: I had never talked about him in confession.
But I had touched myself—more than once—thinking about him.
I had told the priest about that part, leaving out the boy who was responsible for my thoughts.
I pushed everything out of my mind as I approached the door. With my hand clenched into a fist, I stretched out my arm, worked up some courage, and knocked on the wood. Mother Superior invited me in. I entered the room and silently closed the door behind me. She stood just feet from where I was. I walked toward her, my heart beating in my throat. In her hand, Mother Superior clutched the rosary that hung from her neck.
“Sit down, my dear.”
“I could never do such a thing,” I said in a single breath. I sat down and handed her the paper, now folded to conceal its contents.
“I understand perfectly,” she answered, nodding solemnly. She unfolded the contract, read it, and looked up at me as if she couldn’t believe her eyes.
It seemed like an eternity passed before she finally spoke.
“You signed it, then.” Her tone was flat. I couldn’t tell if she was happy or not. I slid onto the seat until my back rested against the chair.
“I want to be honest with you, Rose,” she said, letting out a sigh. “I am relieved that you have agreed, but there is something else I want you to know about Mr. Anderson. Then, we can always tear up this piece of paper and pretend you never signed.”
What else could there possibly be?
My life was about to be turned upside-down. From the moment I'd signed my name on that piece of paper, I’d done nothing but pray to God and ask for his forgiveness, that he wouldn’t give up on me if I became a prostitute to save my convent.
“Mr. Anderson said he saw you in church, two years ago. I can only deduce that he followed you and came up with all of this”—she paused and gestured with her hands—“all of this devilishness from that moment. And God only knows how many more times that maniac must’ve followed you.”
I didn’t know what to say. I focused on my hands resting in my lap, over the pure white dress I would soon have to leave behind. There was no way I could reveal we had met in the confessional and that I had practically begged him to kiss me in front of the convent’s gates.
I pretended to be surprised. “So awful!”
I seemed to convince Mother Superior that I truly believed it, but I was really thinking of what awaited me. Yes, that would be awful. And the idea that I probably would liked it made it even more terrifying.
“But that’s not the worst part.”
Mother Superior’s words forced me to look back up at her. “What else is there?”
“Kegan Anderson is well-known, especially among the influential. He manages a club in Southampton, where you will go and stay with him. It’s called Lust. This, too, belonged to his grandfather. From the name, you can gather what they do there. It’s for the worst sort of wealthy people. It is frequented by swingers and… I don’t want to imagine who else. There are young people who sell their bodies, too. He is one of them.” She stood up. “Clients pay thousands of dollars for his services,” she said with contempt. “And yet, he wants you.”
Now I was truly speechless. I was to spend two weeks in a brothel? With a bunch of nymphomaniacs? Now I was scared. I nearly jumped out of my seat when I felt Mother Superior’s warm hand on my shoulder.
“You have the right to know, Sister. You need to know what you have agreed to. Are you sure you want to go through with this?”
Blood rushed to my cheeks. I inhaled deeply. My head spun. If I hadn’t been sitting down, I would have definitely fallen to the ground. The owner of a sex club. I looked at the desk, but all I could see was the first time I met Kegan, his words filling my mind. Now I was sure it was all true. Not some sort of act to impress me as I had suspected that day.
Are you sure you want to go through with this?
The question rang in my mind.
A voice in my head told me to scream out “no” and to rip that paper up until the words were no longer legible. But there was another part of me, the part that had made the decision, that was determined to repay the women who had been so close to me in my darkest days, who had helped me get back on my feet. I had to demonstrate my loyalty to Sara, to the other novices, to the nuns, and to Mother Superior. This was my chance. I might not have any others. And that part of me was willing to overlook this unpleasant revelation.
“So, I‘ll still be allowed to take my vows?” The foreign sound of my voice startled me.
“Exactly,” she confirmed, squeezing my shoulder a bit.
“Mother, I can’t pretend this new information hasn’t upset me, but I won’t go back on my promise. I’ve made my decision.”
I sounded way more confident than I felt. I hoped with every bit of my body that I had made the right decision. I could already see his face, the victorious Kegan Anderson, under the presumption that he had won because I’d accepted his compromise. I closed my mouth and dug my nails into my pal
ms. So gorgeous but so despicable. If I could, I would give him two weeks of hell. Lust. Surely the name was a sign of what awaited me. Images of completely naked bodies contorted in orgies ran through my mind. Just the thought made me shiver in disgust. Even in my wild days I had never violated certain boundaries, and I certainly wasn’t about to do so in a veil.
Mother Superior sat back down at her desk in front of me. She began to speak, distracting me. “We will tell the other sisters that your great-aunt is unwell and needs your help. You can take your things. Leave your habit here. I’ll have it cleaned. Do not say a word of this miserable business to any of your sisters; otherwise you will not be able to take your vows, as I am sure you realize.”
I nodded and stood up. She followed suit and walked me to the door.
“Mr. Anderson’s driver will be here in an hour.”
And so we said goodbye, kissing each other on the cheeks. I thought of when Judas kissed Jesus, betraying him for thirty pieces of silver. Only this time I was the one being betrayed, and for thousands of dollars. I didn’t even know how much.
“How much did he ask for the convent?”
Stone cold, Mother Superior replied, “One million dollars.”
I never could’ve imagined such an outrageous amount. I leaned against the doorframe. We couldn’t have come up with that much money, not even with decades of donations. This was the only way. Our convent wasn’t worth that much. It was big, but it was also old. There were rooms with water damage, cracks in the ceiling. No building could be worth so much. There was nothing of value here at all. No paintings, no sculptures, and the upkeep and renovations would’ve cost Kegan a fortune. There were no lunatics out there who would spend one million dollars on a convent.
As I rushed down the empty hallway, Mother Superior’s eyes on my back, it all became crystal clear. Kegan had no intention of turning the convent into a hotel. It was all just an excuse, a lie to get Mother Superior and Father Abel on board. To make them desperate, to make them believe they had to come to an agreement with him. And to ensure he could have me. Completely. Just like he’d said. Kegan Anderson wanted me. He wanted to make me sin like one of those sluts in his club. There was no other explanation, no justification. He simply wanted to have a go at the nun who had confessed something as stupid as the steak pie. And all of this because we had been in the confessional together by complete chance. If we had never seen each other that day, he never would’ve concocted such a perverse plan. He would’ve practically given the place away.