by Monica James
“Not really. I’m an only child. My parents are divorced. It’s only been me for a long while.”
“How long ago did you take your vows?”
She clears her throat once, clearly uncomfortable discussing this. “A little over two years.”
Her answers are short, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d guess she was evading them for a reason. But what reason would that be?
“Did you always know you wanted to be a nun? Or did you have an epiphany one night?” I don’t know what the proper term is, but to commit your entire life to this way of living requires dedication.
When Ella doesn’t reply, I casually turn over my shoulder to look at her. She seems torn. It’s a simple question, or maybe it’s not. Maybe the reason is private. But that just makes me all the more curious.
“You were right,” she reveals softly. I have to strain my hearing to catch what she says.
“I am a little wicked…which is why I’m here,” she splutters out in a rushed breath. “I’m not proud of some of my choices, but I’m here to repent.”
Well, well, I was right.
Her admission leaves me all the more intrigued. Just how wicked are we talking? So far, she hasn’t backed down. She’s shown me she’s spirited, and I haven’t intimidated her in the slightest. She can hold her own.
She divulged she’s been on her own for a while, so she’s independent, and possibly a loner as she had no qualms about traveling to the other side of the world.
“How old are you?”
“I’m twenty-eight.”
This means she made her vows when she was twenty-six. Oh, what dirty secrets does she guard?
“You’re still a baby.” I’m not trying to be condescending, but compared to me, she is. “What could you possibly need to repent for?”
When she averts her eyes, it’s evident she feels as though she has a lot to atone for. “I fell…in love,” she confesses, taking my breath away. “When I shouldn’t have.”
“Why not?” I ask, totally under her spell.
“Because he was a very, very bad man. And loving him kick-started a chain reaction.”
I don’t bother giving her a clichéd line about not being able to help who you fall in love with. You may not be able to help your feelings, but when acting on them, you’re in control of your actions. And it seems regardless of Ella’s knowledge, it didn’t make a difference.
Now I understand why I was so drawn to her and she to me. We’re both sinners. This won’t end well.
Turning around to face her, the task of making my bed long forgotten, I don’t hide the way I openly take her in. I am so desperate to take her habit off to see what’s beneath because this garment is her mask. It hides away her true self.
But I see her. And I like who I see.
“What do you want from me, Ella?”
Formalities are long gone. We were only playing nice because of where we were, but down here, in the darkness, we can almost forget the outside world exists.
“I-I don’t know,” she replies, but I cluck my tongue.
With an unhurried stride, I close the distance between Ella and me. She stands her ground, but the rapid rise and fall of her chest hints at her nerves.
“Don’t lie to me,” I caution lightly.
Her tongue quickly darts out and sweeps across her lips. “I’m scared of what I want.”
“Why?” I continue walking toward her.
“Because I shouldn’t want it. I can’t.”
Her admission does nothing to stop me. “If you tell me to stop, I will.”
The closer I get to her, the deeper I fall. To know this, whatever this is, is reciprocated, animates me and some of the monsters inside me ebb away.
“And that’s the problem…I don’t think that I can,” she confesses, tears in her eyes.
The crucifix around her neck catches the dim lighting, but it’s not enough to deter me. I know this is wrong, but I don’t care. I tower over her, but in her presence, I am dwarfed by the power she has over me.
Cupping her cheek tenderly, I watch in awe as she leans into my touch, ashamed. This shouldn’t be a moment of regret, it should be celebrated, but who Ella is, and who I am, our union will always be colored in shades of gray.
“Alek…” she whispers, laying the softest of kisses on my palm. She may as well have kissed every inch of my flesh because it feels the same. I’m animated with a fire, and I want to burn us both alive.
“Tell me to stop, Sister.” I use her title with intent because once we cross this line, there will be no going back.
She peers up at me under those long lashes, slaying me. “It’s Ella.”
God save her soul.
Just as I lower my mouth to hers, I get my wish.
“Alek? Are you down here?” Renata’s voice seems to be the voice of reason Ella needs. She jerks out of my hold, placing her trembling hand over her mouth.
“Ella—” I say with regret.
But she shakes her head. The moment is ruined.
When Renata bounces down the last step, she stops, appearing to strain her eyesight to adjust to the dimness. When she sees Ella and me, she cocks her head with interest.
Ella turns her attention to Renata. She does the same. She looks back and forth between us, before something falls over her. I know what that is.
“Ella, it’s not—”
But she doesn’t let me finish.
“Very well, if you have everything you need, I best be off. Good day, Aleksei.”
“Ella, wait.” I grip her elbow, but she recoils, angered.
“Good day,” she repeats, eyeing me heatedly.
“We’re not done here,” I warn, looking down at her doggedly.
“Oh, we are so done.” She doesn’t allow me to argue because she’s racing past Renata and up the stairs before I have a chance to chase after her.
“блять!” I curse, fists clenched by my side.
Renata sheepishly walks toward me, unsure of what just happened. But I know exactly what happened. Ella saw Renata, jumping to conclusions. I have no idea what she knows about my situation, but it’s apparent she wasn’t aware I had a plus one staying with me.
“Sorry, did I interrupt?” she asks, ruefully. “I knocked.”
“No, it’s fine. Are you settled in?” Renata isn’t to blame for any of this. My half-brother is.
“Yes. The sisters are really nice. Are you really staying down here?” She doesn’t hide her horror at my lodgings.
“It’s just temporary,” I reply, turning around to finish making my bed.
“Thank you,” Renata says after a few moments of silence, surprising me. “I realize I’ve been nothing but a brat. If it wasn’t for you, I don’t know where I’d be. I know I’m only here ’cause you need me, but regardless, you could have been cruel, like your brother, but you’re not.”
I don’t want her gratitude, but I nod, nonetheless.
“To show my appreciation, I wanted to wash your SUV. Can I have the keys?”
“You don’t have to do that,” I state, my back still turned as I tuck the blanket into the mattress.
“I want to. Just let me do this for you, okay?”
The gates are locked. There is no way she can leave the grounds. But a bothersome voice questions her motives, and she knows it.
“You’re kidding me? After everything, you still don’t trust me?”
“I don’t trust anyone. Don’t take it personally.” Regardless of my words, I dig into my pocket and toss her the keys.
She catches them, shocked. But she doesn’t make a fuss.
My cell rings, and when I see that the caller is Santo, I gesture to Renata that I need to take it. She gets the hint and leaves without a word. Once she’s out of earshot, I answer.
“Hello, Aleksei. Have I caught you at a bad time?” It appears our deal means I need to be at his beck and call.
“Not at all. To what do I owe this pleasure?”
&nb
sp; “I just need a couple of more days to get everything organized. Sorry for the delay. It’s hard to get five minutes alone in this house. The joys of being a big Italian family, I suppose.”
He’s trying to lighten the mood, but here’s hoping he changes his mind. I need the money, but is the headache worth it? Being tied to the Macrillo family isn’t a onetime only deal. I do this and succeed, and I will be linked to them forever.
But the influence Santo has over this town is why I’m doing this. I need all the allies I can get. With Santo on my side, no one will dare betray me again.
“No problem. Just let me know when you’re ready. I’m ready when you are.” I know what this means. By agreeing, I’m ultimately putting an innocent woman to death.
“That’s what I like to hear. I’ll call you when I have everything.”
“Okay.”
Before I hang up, Santo casually shares, “Oh, I spoke to a realtor friend of mine. There is a house a couple of miles from where you once lived up for sale. I will email you the link for it. It’s absolutely beautiful.”
Anywhere near my old neighborhood would mean the house is worth a large amount of money, money I don’t have. But this is all a part of Santo’s ploy to ensure I don’t back out of our deal.
“I understand your circumstances at the moment aren’t ideal, which is why my friend is willing to help you out. He only requires a small down payment; one you’ll have soon.”
He means when I find the woman and collect my payment from him.
“He will take care of the rest.”
For me to regain the position of power I was once in, I need a kingdom, a throne. I can hardly do that from the shack I now call home.
“Thank you, Santo. I won’t forget it.”
He clucks his tongue. “Don’t mention it. That’s what friends are for.”
We are far from friends, but I’d rather call him that than my enemy.
He hangs up, sending the link as promised five minutes later. I slump onto the end of my bed, scrolling through the pictures of the two-million-dollar mansion which once belonged to Denka Orlov—a world famous pianist. I wonder if someone didn’t like his rendition of Beethoven’s “Symphony No. 9.”
I didn’t know him well. He kept to himself, and as far as I knew, he was clean. But his loss is my gain as the house is what I need to reestablish myself as the boss. I just need to forget that it’s built on the blood spilled by others.
Looking at the painting of Jesus on the wall, I reach for the pillow and toss it at the painting. It clatters to the floor, no longer judging, no longer seeing what I’m prepared to do.
I wake with a start, unsure of where I am. Once I gather my bearings, though, I exhale because I’m safe.
Unable to go back to sleep, I decide to go for a run. I manage to rummage up an old pair of sneakers and some running shorts in a box of donated clothes, but I don’t bother with a T-shirt. Since it’s still dark outside, I’m quiet as I walk down the hallways and out a side door that leads to the sports field.
There are basketball courts, a tennis court, and a running track around the half-sized football field. They hold their annual events here—Easter egg hunts, Halloween hayrides, and Christmas parades. Mother Superior ensures no child misses out.
After some light stretching, I commence a jog around the field. I don’t have any music, but I don’t mind. I like the silence. I’ve always enjoyed working out. This may be modest compared to what I’m used to, but I’m still thankful to be outdoors without needing to look over my shoulder.
Irina was overjoyed to learn of what she called my extended sleepover. I promised to read to her as many times as she wanted because I want to try to help her any way I can. Maybe having a constant figure in her life will help. Thinking back to when I was a child, I remember that’s all I wanted. Stability.
I may not know Irina’s background, but I recognize a child of abuse and neglect. Sadly, I can relate.
Sweat covers my body as I continue to push myself harder and harder. I think about Santo’s offer and how I’ve decided to contact his realtor friend. I need a home. I can’t stay where I am now.
A new life is within reach. Everything is moments away from changing. I’ll finally be where I belong, where I worked so hard to be.
I know things will be vastly different, but I’m ready for anything.
Or so I thought.
Lost in my thoughts, I don’t notice I’m no longer alone until I hear the side gate open. Instantly on alert, I stop running, straining my eyes to see in the approaching dawn.
It’s a woman, but her back is turned to me, so I can’t see who it is. She places her gym bag onto the bleachers before drawing her leg up behind her into a stretch. She’s in black yoga pants and a crop top. Her long brown hair is tied in a high ponytail, the curled ends touching the mid strap of her top.
Is this a sister out of habit? I suddenly feel impious for studying her longer than I should.
She stretches her neck, limbering up for what I’m assuming is a morning run. She hasn’t seen me, and when I hear her humming softly, I realize that’s because she’s wearing earbuds. She’s lost to the music and not aware of her surroundings.
The suspense is killing me, so I jog over, desperate to get a closer look at this woman with the unbelievable ass. She has what most would call an hourglass figure. She is curvy, toned, and I find myself drawn to her in a way I suddenly recognize.
Is this the work of the Lord Himself? But when she bends down to tie her shoelace, I realize it’s the devil who’s at play. Her tight crop top just emphasizes the fullness of her breasts.
I know who this is, but now, the question is, what am I supposed to do?
We hardly parted on good terms yesterday when she stormed from my room. But I can’t sneak out of here without her seeing me because she stands near the exit. She is out of her habit, which I know for a sister is sacrilegious. She will be mortified.
But the temptation of seeing her this way wins out, so I wait for her to turn around.
She takes a drink of water from her bottle, then tightens the elastic around her hair before granting me my wish. And when she does, we both seem to share the same level of utter disbelief.
She just stares at me with those big hazel eyes, but without the habit, I can see her face without anything in the way. And what a sight that is.
I knew she was beautiful, but seeing her like this, I was not prepared for such beauty. The column of her neck is graceful, a silly thing to notice, but the only thing I’ve been able to see has been her face. Her habit has always covered everything else.
So now that I’m able to see it all, I can’t stop looking. Everything pieced together makes the most spectacular picture.
My gaze drifts down her body, my fingers desperate to follow suit. Her skin is tanned. I wonder what her heritage is. Definitely European. I begin to wonder a lot of things because I want to know everything about her. I thought I was in trouble before.
Now, I’m in shark-infested waters without a life raft.
“Oh my god, Alek,” she gasps, covering herself, but she doesn’t turn around.
I expect her to avert her eyes, yet she does the complete opposite. She focuses on my body or, more accurately, my chest. I’m shirtless and perspiring from more than just the run. I like the way her eyes come to life before me.
I allow her to study me because it’s only fair. The image of her body is forever singed into my very soul.
We are treading dangerous waters, but neither of us seems to care. This attraction continues to grow, and now that the veil has been lifted, I can’t go back. I know what she looks like beneath that habit, and I want it.
Right now.
“Come here,” I order, not mincing my words.
She backs up a step, but she’s not going anywhere.
“Don’t force me to order you to your knees.”
Her gasp echoes out here in the silence, hinting it’s only us. No one can inter
rupt us.
“Ella,” I warn, seconds away from exploding. “Come. Here…now.”
“No.”
Her refusal excites me. I want her to defy me as the punishment will sting sweeter.
“You’ve got your hands full, it seems,” she bites, referring to Renata. “She’s the girl who was tied to your bed. Naked, I presume?”
“Oh, Sister, that shade of jealousy is quite becoming on you,” I mock with a smirk.
She doesn’t appreciate my candor.
“Don’t flatter yourself. Jealousy would mean I care, and quite frankly, I don’t anymore.”
She’s lying, lying to mask her envy.
“It seems you’re prepared to break all your vows.”
“I beg your pardon?”
She is angry. Good.
“Deceit. Envy. Depravity. You don’t do things in halves.” I want her to be aware of the fact I know her better than she thinks. I recognize these sins because I’ve committed them every single day.
“For you?” she taunts, tossing my words back at me. “You really think I’d jeopardize everything for a quick…fuck? Is that it?”
Oh, her mouth is so filthy.
Shaking my head, I coolly reply, “Who said anything about it being quick?”
“An old man like you? I hardly think you’d have the stamina.”
She’s baiting me, and oh, how it’s worked.
“I don’t have daddy issues. I already have a Father I obey. He’s the only one I get on my knees for.”
That mouth. I want to punish it.
Yes, this is wrong, very wrong, and we both know what happens if we cross this line. But this isn’t a choice of what I should or shouldn’t do. This choice is the differential factor to what I should do and who I am.
I should walk away, but I won’t. I want Sister Arabella, and I intend to have her in every humanly way possible.
When she continues to stand still, challenging me with her uncouth words, I curl my finger with a smirk. “You have three seconds. That’s all I’m giving you before I come over there and make you regret disobeying me.”
Ella’s eyes widen.
“One—” I commence.
“Bite me.”
“Two—” I interrupt as her wish is moments away from coming true.