Page 58

“Should I tell Jason to buy a cassock so you can play naughty parishioner and priest?—”
“The next time I see you, I will hit you.”
I grin. “You really are into corporal punishment, huh?”
“I’m going to hang up if you’re not careful!”
Though my grin widens, I merely say, “I don’t know if he sleeps naked but he should. I saw beneath the cassock?—”
“Holy shit!”
“Holy something. He’s gorgeous.” Scars and all. There are many of them, though. So fucking many.
“How did he hurt himself?”
Anxiety hits me. “You want to know?”
“Of course.”
“It’s bad.”
“Oh… Private?”
“Yes. But you’re right. We have few secrets between us.”
“Aside from the massive headaches you were having and the wings you thought you had.”
“I’ll be the one hanging up if you?—”
“Fine, fine. Sorry. Okay, what happened?”
“He was whipping himself and I knocked on his door and stopped him. He was bleeding so I helped tend his wounds.”
“Crap on a corndog!”
“Yeah.” My fingers tangle in the coarse sheets. Nothing luxurious here. Just basic fabric that makes sackcloth look silky.
“The monk inThe Da Vinci Codedid that. I thought the practice had died out.”
“Self-flagellation isn’t encouraged, but how would the higher-ups stop it?”
“It’s sick.”
“Yeah.Heis, I guess. The years haven’t been kind to him. Remember I told you about how Linda’s ex dipped her hand in bleach to punish her for flirting with a partner of his at his law firm?”
“Yes.”
“The father’s back was worse than that. He went hot and heavy with the whip. There was a lot of blood.”
“God.” She clears her throat. “Didn’t it scare you?”
I choke out a laugh. “That he’d come after me with his whip? No. He’s more of a danger to himself than he is to me.”
“Oh, Jesus, you really are going to try and fix him, aren’t you?”
“You know me too well,” is my dry retort. “He needs me, Diana. As much as you did.”
“H-He’s safe?”