Lessons in Sin

by Pam Godwin

  “Are you finished?”

  “No.” I spat away the last shred of respect I had for this woman.

  Then and there, I made a promise to myself. She thought I was bad? She had no idea. Bad girls got kicked out of boarding school.

  I vowed to do everything in my power to get expelled.

  “If you leave me here,” I said, “I’ll tarnish our family name so completely you won’t be able to keep it out of the press.”

  Unmoved, she arched a brow at Father Magnus. “She didn’t use to be this quarrelsome. I don’t know what’s gotten into her.”

  “Not Robby Howard. Or any other guy.” I lifted my chin. “You’re the world’s biggest cockblocker.”

  “You’re walking on thin ice, young lady.”

  “Okay, Boomer. You’re the one trusting a priest to watch me instead of a team of bodyguards. Way to lose touch with reality.”

  She was technically too young to be part of the baby boomer generation. I only used the term to piss her off.

  “Wait in the hall.” A quiet command, but her voice cut like a knife.

  “You wait in the hall.” I crossed my arms, swallowing the bundle of fear in my throat.

  “I won’t tell you again.” She thrust a finger toward the door.

  I shook my head, pushing my luck. “Prove you have a grain of decency in your heart and take me home.”

  I braced for the pain that I knew her response would inflict. But it was Father Magnus who reacted. He stepped forward slowly, menacingly. I tried to hold my ground, but his powerful strides crushed the distance, forcing me to retreat.

  He crowded my space, his towering frame putting me at eye level with his chest. No part of him touched me, but I didn’t give him a chance, my spine bowing, my entire body recoiling as I fought to refill my lungs. He stayed with me, bending closer. I shuffled back, and he advanced again, and again, every step trampling my boundaries and incinerating my bravado.

  If I wanted to survive this, survive him, I couldn’t let him bully me. But my limbs flinched without conscious volition, my feet sliding in reverse, instinctively fleeing the nefarious vibes radiating from him.

  Tight cords and ridges of muscle—too much power lay beneath his unassuming clothes, ready to back up that threatening scowl.

  Was he angry? Or did he look at all his students like he wanted to break them over his knee?

  “What are you doing?” Pulse racing, I continued to retreat until my spine bounced off the doorframe. “Back off. Don’t touch me.”

  He didn’t lift a finger. No physical contact between us. But he didn’t ease up, either. His steps were deliberate and unhurried as he forced me into the hall with nothing more than his proximity.

  I couldn’t ignore how tiny and breakable I felt next to him, how physically inferior I was compared to his strength and size. But it wasn’t just his unexpected physique that had me seeking distance. It was the meanness in his eyes. The unholy promise in them.

  This wasn’t a teacher who gave a fuck about my circumstances. He was a sick, twisted bully who got off on intimidating his students.

  How many girls had he reformed? Brainwashed? Abused? How many lives had he broken?

  The backs of my legs hit the bench in the hall, toppling my balance. My bottom collided with the seat, and he dove in, bending over me with a hand splayed on the wall beside my head.

  Don’t cower. You can handle whatever he dishes out.

  “I’m going to say this only once.” He thrust his other hand, palm up, between us. “Give me your phone.”

  My insides shriveled at the sound of his voice. A terse command that tolerated no argument. A gravelly timbre that vibrated in my chest. A sculpted mouth that dragged me into the darkness.

  The corridor faded away as I stared at the brutal beauty of his face. He was close, so goddamn up in my space that I felt the heat of his breath, and oh my fuck, he smelled good. Seductively dark and woodsy, like exotic incense and something more. Something carnal and manly, unlike anything sold in a designer bottle. My nose rejoiced in the aroma, my nostrils flaring, taking deep pulls, savoring.

  Snap out of it.

  I held my breath and averted my eyes. What was happening to me? I couldn’t be in thrall to a man who meant to hurt me. Nausea swirled, stirring icy fear in my stomach.

  He didn’t need words to scare the shit out of me. His nearness alone frazzled my nerves all to hell.

  I just needed him to leave, and the quickest way to make that happen was to give him what he wanted.

  Tugging the phone from my pocket, I slapped it in his waiting hand.

  I knew that in a couple of hours I was going to find myself lying in a strange bed, scared and alone, cursing my decision to surrender my connection to the outside world. My phone was my lifeline to my brother.

  Keaton was annoyingly overprotective of me, but only because he cared. He was the one I turned to when I needed help, words of advice, or a shoulder to lean on.

  I was going to need him more than anything tonight.

  My chest ached as I watched the phone vanish in Father Magnus’s pocket. Out of my reach.

  He returned to the classroom and paused just inside, his hand resting on the doorframe. Every sinew in my body was strung tight as he glanced over his shoulder and met my gaze.

  I expected indifference, but what I saw in his expression was worse.

  His eyes glinted with triumph.

  He thought he’d won. He thought, from here on out, I would cower and cease resisting, that I would be malleable and easy to control. He thought he had my capitulation.

  As if.

  He’d never crossed swords with a Constantine.

  My destiny was of my own making, and I was willing to ruin my reputation to get the hell out of here. If he stood in my way, I would take him down with me.

  “I promise you this.” I squared my shoulders and stood, facing him head-on. “I’m going to make your life a living hell.”

  “Hell is fast approaching, little girl. But I assure you, it’s not coming for me.”

  With a cruel twist of his lips, he stepped into the classroom and shut the door in my face.

  CHAPTER 3

  TINSLEY

  Standing in the corridor, I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyelids and waited for the threat of tears to dissipate.

  Tinsley Constantine was a lot of things—and sometimes, she referred to herself in the third person—but she wasn’t a crybaby.

  Why didn’t they ever talk about my finer points on social media?

  They don’t know me.

  No one knew the real me. Not even my friends in Bishop’s Landing. They only saw what they wanted to see—what they could gain from my family’s wealth and influence. Deep down, I knew that my closest friends only hung around to get close to my brothers.

  Story of my life. My last name preceded who I was in my heart, and it wouldn’t be any different here.

  But there were advantages to being my mother’s daughter. She’d bred tenacity in my veins and steel in my bones. I’d spent my entire life watching her, learning from her. While she wasn’t a nurturing person, she didn’t take shit from anyone.

  To win this, I would have to take a page out of her book, no matter how vicious my opponent.

  Hell is coming for me.

  Not the words I expected to hear from a priest’s mouth, but to be fair, I threatened him first.

  I stepped toward the classroom, placing my hands on the door. My mother’s muffled voice drifted from within, drawing my ear to the wooden barrier.

  “I investigated you, Magnus. You’re well respected in the church and held in high esteem by your fellow teachers. But I’m more interested in your history before priesthood. I find it strange that you decided to become a late-vocation priest, considering that before the age of thirty-one, you led a rather excessive, self-indulgent life.”

  My breath cut short, my whole body going still.

  “Self-made billionaire.” H
er heels clicked through the room, punctuating her words. “New York’s most eligible bachelor—”

  A flurry of noise erupted overhead. I spun, crouching, and slapped a hand against my pounding chest. Dammit.

  Craning my neck, I scanned the rafters along the hallway. There was something there, quiet now, but whatever it was had nearly given me a heart attack.

  The ceiling crested into shadowed pockets high above the glow of the wall sconces. I strained my eyes, searching for movement.

  Nothing.

  If it was a critter, it must’ve scurried away.

  I crept back to the door and pressed my ear to the surface, catching my mother’s voice.

  “—abruptly ended. No one seems to know why you traded your expensive ties for a priest’s collar nine years ago. But I can find out. I can learn all a man’s secrets when motivated. Don’t motivate me.”

  My mind spun in the silence that followed. I imagined her arrogant expression as she stared down the impassive priest. If I did the math…

  He was forty. Older than I thought. But young enough to be her child. Just another pawn in her self-aggrandizing quest for control. With any luck, he would say something to piss her off, and this would all work itself out on its own.

  “I wonder,” he said, his voice rumbling like a distant storm, “what kind of woman threatens a man of the cloth.”

  “A smart woman. I trust no one. Not even a priest with a squeaky-clean record.”

  “If you’re suggesting—”

  “I’m not. You agreed to my conditions. Don’t let her leave the property. No males in her room, including yourself. Don’t allow her in your private quarters, no matter how innocent the reason. Don’t bend any of the rules I put forth without speaking to me first, or I’ll shut down this school and make sure you disappear for good.”

  A swallow stuck in my throat. Was she protecting me? My mother, a mama bear? I couldn’t believe it, but man, did I feel it. It warmed me to the marrow.

  Until she added, “I don’t want a scandal, Magnus. It’s that simple.”

  My stomach bottomed out, and my eyes closed, hot and achy.

  This had nothing to do with me. It was just another one of her power trips.

  “Her tuition is paid in full,” she said. “And I signed off on the terms of the endowment—”

  The clamor of sound returned to the rafters, jerking me away from the door. Just as well. I’d heard enough.

  Turning my attention upward, I tracked the cacophony of rustling, flapping movements. Something small flitted about in the darkness, flying with agitation, crashing into beams, and skidding along the apex of the ceiling.

  A bird?

  How did it get inside? Through an open door? Oh no, that meant it was trapped. Without food or water, it wouldn’t survive. Worse, it seemed injured, or disoriented, darting unsteadily in the shadows. Never landing. Never coming close enough to let me see it.

  Shit. It hit the wall.

  I inched forward, gasping as it bounced across the floor and came to a stop. What a strange-looking bird. It wobbled, using its folded wings like crutches, balancing itself, and…

  Was that fur?

  It took flight again, swooping awkwardly, almost drunkenly through the doorway at the end of the hall.

  A bat.

  What else could it be? And the poor thing was hurt. Probably starving to death.

  I hurried after it without a plan. I just didn’t want it to get stuck somewhere and die. Bursting into the dark room, I flicked on the lights and paused.

  Another classroom. Smaller desks. Lower ceilings. But the ambiance was the same, all dark woods and worn surfaces, aged with doom and gloom.

  Like Father Magnus.

  Why would a self-made billionaire become a priest?

  Money didn’t buy happiness, but the almighty dollar sure as hell kept this school running. Five-figure tuitions and million-dollar endowments, all that glorious cash pouring in from wealthy families like mine.

  So here was an elite school for rich girls whose parents sent them away to be babysat by a priest who practiced corporal punishment. Given what I’d just overheard, Father Magnus had a past. Was he a predator? Like a pedo who preyed on girls in Catholic school uniforms?

  I shuddered, scrubbing my hands over my hair. Jesus, my thoughts had taken a grisly turn.

  I was just here for the bat.

  Moving on silent feet, I zigzagged around the rows of desks. Where had the little stinker gone? There were no sounds, no movement, not a single sign of it.

  Then my gaze snagged on a life-size statue of a woman in robes. The Virgin Mary? I couldn’t see her face because it was covered by a trembling winged furball.

  “There you are.”

  Clinging by feet and forelimbs, the tiny brown bat hugged the statue’s head. I approached slowly, trying not to frighten it. A few paces away, my heart melted.

  “Awww. You’re just a pup. Look at you, with your tiny mouse ears and baby snout. You’re lost, aren’t you? Where’s your mama?” I had no idea what to do, only that I needed to do something. Except… “You wouldn’t, by chance, have rabies?”

  If I had my phone, I would look up the symptoms. Without it, all I knew was that rabies was one hundred percent fatal.

  “Just to be safe, maybe don’t bite me, okay?”

  The pup twisted its neck, fixing me with an alert, beady stare as it held on tight to the Virgin Mary’s face.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  It was already hurt. A cut sliced across its little head, probably from its dive-bomber maneuvers in the hallway. It didn’t look sick, but that didn’t mean I should touch it, which made for a tricky rescue.

  Just like the first room, bars hung on the outside of the windows. But the spaces in between were wide enough for a bat to fit through.

  Shifting two steps to the closest window, I turned the latch and pushed the casement upward. It didn’t budge. Another attempt, same result. Exerting all my strength, I shoved harder, again and again, and broke a fingernail.

  “Fuck!” I threw myself at the glass, grunting, straining, and gritting my teeth. “You ancient, stubborn piece of shit! Why won’t you fucking o—?”

  “What are you doing?”

  His sharp voice ran through me like a sword, puncturing my lungs. I lowered my arms, dropped my brow to the cool glass, and steadied my breaths.

  Then I turned to face Father Magnus. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

  “Attempting an escape.”

  “Ooh, good idea. I’ll just use my bionic arms to bend the bars out of the way. After I break all my nails trying to open the damn window.”

  He stared at me like I was an idiot. If it were possible, that scowl looked even meaner than before. Spine-chilling. Malicious. Beneath the cloud of disapproval, his eyes tapered, and his expression creased with disgust. Pure, unconcealed abhorrence. As if the mere sight of me made him want to inflict bodily harm.

  If he had any secrets, an attraction to young girls wasn’t one of them. But I wasn’t ruling out abuse. Or misogyny. From the way he continued to glare at me, he was giving off some serious homicidal vibes.

  Maybe he just hated his life and didn’t know how to be anything but a salty, miserable dick.

  With perfectly shaped lips.

  He ambled toward me, his gait slow and threatening. A thrum of unease beat in my veins as I sidestepped, blocking his line of sight to the bat.

  Too late. He’d already spotted it.

  “Don’t hurt it.” I held up my hands, warding him off. “It’s just a pup. I’m just going to let it out through the window and—”

  “You want to save it?” He pulled up short, his brows a heavy mantle of suspicion.

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Bats carry rabies. Did you touch it?”

  “Not all bats, and no. No touching. No biting. No heavy petting. We don’t have that kind of relationship. It just needs some mosquitoes in i
ts belly and a little more practice flying…” I withered beneath his flinty stare. “What?”

  “Bats are roosting in the bell tower. They’re not pets. They’re pests. Especially when they make their way into the classrooms and rain terror on the students.”

  “Does that involve screaming and tears?”

  “Yes.”

  “So what you’re saying is you have bats in the belfry, and it makes all the girls cry. That explains a lot.”

  A muscle bounced in his jaw, and he lurched into motion, rounding the desks.

  Oh fuck, I’d gone too far. My pulse quickened, and my muscles went taut. But I refused to move. He would have to go through me to get to the bat.

  When he stepped within arm’s reach, I braced for impact…only to feel the heat of his body breeze past me and the bat.

  I released a breath, turning to watch as he wriggled the latch on the window.

  “The lock sticks.” He slid the casement open with ease.

  The instant the air changed, the bat flew, darting straight toward my face.

  A hand wrapped around my throat and yanked me back against a slab of marble. Hot marble, bunched with ridges and aggression. Holy sweet Jesus, he was hard. A hot-blooded, hard-bodied, immovable beast.

  I choked on my raging heartbeat and lost all motor and brain function.

  I’m going to die.

  In a blink, he released me. My hands flew to my throat as he strolled to the window and closed it like nothing had happened.

  Nope, no need to overreact. My blood pressure flirted with the red zone, and my lungs ran on empty. But the little brown bat was doing just fine.

  Right outside the glass, it wrapped itself around one of the bars. If Father Magnus hadn’t pulled me from its trajectory, it would’ve been my face that the pup was hanging on to for dear life.

  I took a moment to calm down. Once my breathing returned to normal, I joined him at the window. He didn’t acknowledge me. His focus centered on the bat as if he were contemplating the best way to kill it.

  Come on, pup. Fly away. Spread your wings and go!

  She lifted her tiny nose and stared back at me.

  Father Magnus reached for the window.

  “Wait.” I gripped the sill. “Just…give her a second. She’s scared and still learning how to fly. Don’t take this moment from her.”