Absolution: A Mortal Sins Novel

by Keri Lake

  Philippe lies on the floor, where Ivy lay him. I kneel down and pet his lifeless body.

  Daddy? When I die, will you take care of Philippe? Isabella’s words echo inside my head, springing tears to my eyes, as I work the knot of the cord at his throat. Promise me you’ll take care of Philippe forever.

  A scream outside the window breaks my thoughts, and I approach cautiously, back pressed flat against the wall, and peer down to where a man and woman stand over the stranger’s crushed head.

  Eyes back on Ivy, I give a nod. “Hurry it up. You’re going to have to leave out the back door.”

  She gathers up all the cash and stuffs it into her purse. The mound of clothes in her suitcase smashes down as she closes it and clicks the locks in place. Together, we exit her apartment, tiptoeing past Ms. Garcia’s door, so as not to rouse the woman’s curiosity, and slip out the back entrance of the apartment. Only seconds later, sirens can be heard off in the distance.

  I shuffle Ivy into my vehicle and toss her suitcase on the backseat. As I drive the car out of the lot and round the corner, a flash of lights draws my attention to the rearview mirror, where the police have arrived on scene.

  “The computer you took from Calvin’s. What did you do with it?”

  “Smashed it with a sledgehammer and tossed it in the dumpster. Garbage day was earlier this morning.”

  “Good. And the file?” I glance away from the road only long enough to catch her hands fidgeting in her lap. She’s nervous. She should be.

  “Filed it away yesterday morning, before Mamie’s funeral. The hospital will never know it was missing. And where are you taking me?”

  “The airport.”

  “Damon, stop. Please, pull over. Just for a minute.”

  With some reluctance, I turn the car into an empty lot of a Cantonese restaurant, and flick off the lights, so as not to draw any attention from the few cars that pass.

  “Look, it’s late. I’m exhausted. I’m not flying off on a spontaneous trip, to a country I’ve never set foot in. And I don’t know many people, aside from my boss and co-worker. There’s no way in hell I’m asking either one of them to let me couch surf. I literally have no place to go. So you might as well turn around—”

  “No. Absolutely not.” I reach to turn the key again, but she grabs my wrist.

  “Please. No one knows we had anything to do with him. If the police question me, I’ll tell them I was upset about Mamie’s funeral. I sought out my priest for comfort. You’re a solid alibi. Who would believe a priest would have anything to do his murder, or suicide, or whatever they’re dreaming it might’ve been.”

  “That’ll be on the news by tonight. The men who are after you will surely see it and know exactly who was behind the murder. Only, they won’t go to the police. They’ll come right for the source.”

  “I don’t have a choice. Aside from a few nights at a hotel, there’s nowhere else I can go.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek, staring off at the red door of the restaurant.

  Somehow, everything in my life seems to come back to the church. Whenever I think I don’t need my faith the same way, the church catches my fall every time. Bringing Ivy there will undoubtedly stir curiosity with Ruiz. I can’t seem to be within inches of this woman without my body sounding off the litany of sins running through my head. But like her, I can’t think of anywhere else I could possibly take her.

  I slowly nod. “I know of a place you can stay for a while.”

  25

  IVY

  Damon parks the car in the small lot beside the rectory building and cuts the engine. His silence during the whole ride over tells me this doesn’t sit well with him. I imagine finding Philippe weighs heavy on him, as well, so perhaps it has little to do with me, but he seems to have grown wearier over the last half hour.

  “Look, if this is going to get you into trouble ...”

  “It won’t get me into trouble. The church is a sanctuary for those seeking asylum. It was mine for a long time.”

  The building stands dark and quiet as we exit the vehicle, and I follow Damon around a small paved path to a backdoor. He fumbles through keys until he finds the one for the door, and opens it onto a dark hallway inside. “Ruiz occupies the upper level,” he whispers. “To avoid any suspicion, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  “That doesn’t sound very comfortable for the longterm.”

  “It won’t be longterm.”

  On the right, we pass a workout room filled with equipment and free weights. Further down the hall, he comes to a stop in front of two bedrooms.

  “Can’t you sleep in there?”

  “Too close.”

  “Ah, yes. My sinful lust might seep through the walls, and you’ll be masturbating all night.”

  “Ivy ...” His voice holds a warning, and one glance into his sad eyes confirms that something is wrong.

  “Philippe?”

  His brows come together as he lets his gaze fall from mine. “He used to greet me every night that I’d come home. Sometimes, it felt like Isabella, when she’d come sit on my lap, while I worked.” He clears his throat and enters the room ahead of me, setting my suitcase down on the floor. “I’ll let you get settled.”

  “I’m sorry. For Philippe. He’s with Isabella now, though. Right? In eternal paradise?” I speak with caution, because I know, in spite of my Catholic upbringing, those thoughts don’t always bring me comfort. They don’t always steal away the selfish desire to have the one I love here beside me.

  He nods, though, and offers a slight smile when he looks back at me. “Yes, I’m certain of it.”

  “So … I guess I’m going to try to get some sleep. Whatever sleep I can tonight.”

  “Yes, of course. And … please don’t walk around in just a T-shirt.”

  The idea that he’d even have to say that irritates the shit out of me. “Don’t worry. I’m only a whore for assholes. Ruiz is safe.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Ignoring him, I make my way toward the bed, but at the tight grip of my arm, my body falls into attack mode. I spin around and throw my arms out to push him back, but he grips my other wrist. Wriggling to get loose is futile with this man, who hardly puts much effort into holding me still.

  “Listen to me.” It’s worse that his voice carries an eerie calm that is naturally threatening, yet commanding, at the same time. “I need you to lay low. To be invisible. Not because I think you’re a whore, and I’m sorry if I implied that. In the last few weeks, only two things have come to mean something to me, and one of them was hung by his neck tonight. I don’t want to find you that way. I won’t let it happen, hear me?”

  There’s an ardent fury in his eyes, and if I stare long enough, I swear his pupils are dilating.

  In a matter of a week, I’ve witnessed two occasions when the man has clearly lost his shit. In the strength of his grip, I can feel myself shaking with my frustration, but I nod and smile, curious as to what it means when he says he won’t watch me hang. What is the unseen plot behind his eyes?

  “Please tell me you’re not giving serious consideration to going after him.”

  “I’m not giving serious consideration, Ivy.” He releases me, taking a step back toward the door behind him. “It’s already been decided.”

  “And if he ends up killing you first?”

  “Resign yourself to the idea of hopping on a plane to France.”

  26

  DAMON

  Arm tucked beneath my head, I stare up at the ceiling. A barrage of thoughts beat inside my skull, battling against the ache of my eyelids that beg for sleep. I glance up at the clock, which reads six in the morning. Not even a minute later, the light flicks on, and I lift my head to see Ruiz scratching his lower back, as he makes his way toward the kitchen.

  Through a yawn, he squints and comes to a stop beside my makeshift couch bed. “Oh! Damon? Did you sleep all night on the couch?”

  Pushing to a sitting positi
on, I clear my throat of the urge to come clean and confess that the woman I’ve been fucking for the last week is sleeping in my bed. “I hope you don’t mind. A friend of mine is in trouble. She needed a place to stay.”

  His brows wing up. “She?”

  “Ivy.”

  Arms behind his back, he nods. “She isn’t mourning her grandmother’s death well, I take it.”

  In the thick of all my thoughts, I’d almost forgotten about Mamie’s death. “No. She feels quite alone and vulnerable. I offered that she could stay here at the rectory, temporarily, of course.”

  Lips forming a hard line, he contemplates this for far longer than I did at first. “Provided you’re comfortable sleeping on the couch, I don’t see a problem. Although, there is the other room down there.”

  “The couch is fine. Thank you for understanding. I know Ivy will appreciate it.”

  “She’s quite a woman, isn’t she? Interesting personality, that one.” He chuckles, folding his arms over his chest. “She reminds me of a girl I dated before heading off to seminary.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Feisty personality. Quiet. Beautiful.” Stroking his chin, he smiles as if at some unspoken thought in his head. “A rare flower in the desert. I was supposed to marry her, but God had other plans for me.”

  “Do you regret it?” I dare to ask him, wondering if he’d bother to answer honestly.

  “I do not regret the choices I’ve made in life, but I do regret the possibilities, at times.” He breaks from his musings, and as if the guilt I’m feeling is written all over my face, he tips his head. “Why do you ask, Damon? Do you feel regret in your decision?”

  “No. But I do ponder the possibilities from time to time, as well.”

  “Last I checked, she had gotten married, has a grown boy and girl. A happy life, it seems. I like to think my choices helped lead her to that happiness.”

  I stare down at my hands, rubbing them together as his words mingle with the indecision I’ve warred with most of the night. Perhaps Ivy and I aren’t meant to be together. Maybe the intruder who visited us, who didn’t bother to kill us in our sleep, was a divine intervention, of some sort.

  Perhaps Ivy would be better off finding her own path, without me. I give a nod and pull my knees up, resting my elbows on top of them. “Thanks.”

  “For what?”

  Shrugging, I lift my gaze to his. “For giving me perspective.”

  “Eh, for what my perspective is worth, anyway.”

  I chuckle, as he walks off into the kitchen and preps his morning coffee. The second he leaves, I lift my phone and send a text to Bishop McDonell.

  I’ve done as you asked and taken time to ponder what would make me reconsider my decision to leave the priesthood. Only one thing would make me stay.

  A transfer to the Catholic church in Calexico.

  My heart is pounding against my ribs as I stare down at the text, and before I can stop myself, I click send.

  It’s not without a heavy heart that I make this request, as Bishop McDonnel and Ruiz happen to be two reasons I didn’t drink myself to death all those years ago.

  It only takes about ten seconds for the dots to show up, indicating his reply.

  I’ll check with the San Diego Diocese and see what I can do.

  If he comes through on this, it means the possibilities with Ivy are over.

  It means I’ve chosen to become my bastard father.

  27

  IVY

  The blur of sleep sticks to my eyes, as I open them to find a figure standing in the closet across from where I lay. Pushing myself up onto my elbow, I wipe and blink away the film, focusing on Damon’s profile, as he stares up at something.

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost three.”

  “That’s strange, I could’ve sworn it was later than that when you brought me here.”

  “In the afternoon.”

  “Seriously?” I stretch out on the bed that had me drooling all night from how it smelled like Damon. “I think the last time I slept in that late, I was eighteen years old.”

  “I’m leaving, Ivy.” In spite of the resolution in his voice, he apparently hasn’t worked up the balls to look me in the eye. “I’m transferring to another church.”

  A mirthless laugh escapes me, and I kick myself back against the wall. “That’s … that’s brilliant. Some crazed asshole is coming after me, and you’ve decided to split the scene.”

  “Ruiz has agreed to let you stay here as long as you need.”

  “Damon, I have shit that will be thrown out onto the streets. Okay? You’re asking me to quit my job without notice. Quit my rent. Quit my life.” It’s hard to believe I can muster another tear, but the moment that familiar sting hits the rim of my eyes, I have to swallow back the emotion in my voice. “I don’t have much. But I’ve busted my ass for everything I own.”

  As though ignoring me, he reaches up and grabs a box from the top shelf of the closet, then strides toward the bed. “After Isabella and Val, all I had from my own life fit into this box.” A smile creeps across his otherwise somber face while he stares down at it. “And Philippe, of course. Leaving was the hardest and most necessary thing I’ve ever done. It saved my life.”

  “And so, I’m supposed to just hang out here at the rectory until what—they stop chasing me? How the hell will I know when that is?”

  “I can’t answer that.”

  “Well, answer this: Can you live with the possibility of them finding me? Can you live with the guilt of whatever it is they plan to do with me once they have me?”

  “Ivy …” his voice holds a warning, but I don’t bother to stop. Fuck him.

  “I mean, I can’t imagine any man affiliated with the cartels would be merciful to a woman he’s made a target, right? They’d probably have their fun with me for a bit first, I’d imagine.”

  “Stop. So long as you stay here, you should be safe.”

  “Should? And what happens to Ruiz, if they find out I’m here? What if he witnesses everything? Do you think they’d go easy on a priest? Or would it be amusing to have a holy man watch a woman get violated.”

  “Enough!” The venom in his eyes stings like it’s hit my skin. “What would you have me do? I’ve spent all night pondering that question, and I still don’t have a good answer.”

  “Take me with you.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Why?”

  “You’d be walking straight into the mouth of hell, itself!”

  “And I’m pretty sure that’s the last place they’d think to find me.”

  Mouth hung wide, he stares back in silence, the argument undoubtedly cocked at the back of his throat failing to break free, as if he’s contemplating the possibilities.

  “I’m going to be in a new church. You can’t stay at the rectory there.”

  “I’ve got enough cash to float me about for a month in motels.”

  “And that’s how you’d choose to spend your life savings? Holed up in a motel somewhere?”

  “Damon, I feel safe with you. If being holed up in a motel means I stay close to you, then yes. That’s exactly what I choose.”

  “And your apartment?”

  “I’ll pay one more month and go from there. Look, I can’t talk you out of going, I know that. But I’m not letting you go there alone.”

  “And if something happens to me. You won’t try to play some avenging angel and get yourself killed?”

  “Only if you promise to do everything in your power to keep something from happening to you.”

  He shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. It sucks that I’ve had to back him into this corner, but every word I’ve said is true. I have no one for me here, and having no one is dangerous. “What if there’s a better path for you, Ivy? One with marriage and children and a happy life?”

  “Seems to me, going along with you is the best way to sweeten those odds.”

  Lips pressed together, he se
ems to chew on his thoughts, before his shoulders sag in defeat. “Fine. You’ll come with me and stay in a motel outside of the city.”

  “Not too far outside, though.”

  “God help me, if anything happens to you …”

  “God will have to help himself. Can you imagine me trying to get inside the pearly gates?”

  His lip lifts to a slight, crooked smile. “No. Oddly enough, I can’t.”

  “Neither can I. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” I crawl across the bed to where he stands beside it and push up to my knees. Snaking my arms around his neck, I let him pull me in for a kiss to my forehead. “When do we leave?”

  “Week’s end. Square away what you need to before then.”

  “What’s his name?” At the unyielding look in his eyes, I glide my thumb across his lips that refuse to speak it. “If you fail to kill him, I’ll need to know who’s coming after me next. It’s hard to run from a faceless shadow.”

  There’s a moment of hesitation before his eye twitches the way it does when he’s about to give in to me. “El Cabro Blanco. The White Goat. But from what I’ve gathered of the man, if he kills me first, you won’t even see him coming.”

  28

  DAMON

  Calexico is a border city, spanning about six hundred square miles, directly across from Mexicali. If one were to drive through, they might think it nothing but another heavily-influenced Mexican town in California, but this city happens to exist in the shadow of its sister across the border, making it one big, extended multicultural family.

  There isn’t much here, no main strip, really, and the only entertainment seems to be the local theater up the road. Homes and open spaces. And fields. Lots of fields. At a glance, it doesn’t seem like the kind of town that’d house gangs, or one of the more dangerous men in the crime world, but as I’ve come to know, looks can be quite deceiving.