Page 4 of Forgive Me, Father

Three

Gabriel

A little over a week later, I’m sitting inside a luxe hotel suite, pacing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over the Toronto skyline.

My brother was able to track down the auction site in a matter of hours, and after reassuring him I didn’t need the police involved, I made an account.

And then I found it—the listing for Olivia’s virginity auction.

Her name wasn’t part of the profile, but there were several photographs of her.

Anyone who intended to bid in the auction had to pre-register and then check into his assigned room at this luxury hotel an hour before the auction was to begin.

Then, once the auction was complete, Olivia would be brought to the winning bidder’s room.

Lord, help me. I’ve been at war with myself ever since I signed up to participate in the auction. I tell myself that I’m doing this to save her, to help her. I have no intentions of…claiming her. That can’t happen. That won’t happen.

And yet…the idea is temptation and sin and everything I’ve ever wanted.

I can’t figure out if this is a test or a gift.

I haven’t spoken to Olivia since she fled the confessional last week. She was at mass on Sunday, but left before I could talk to her. She didn’t come to Bible study or to help me make lunches to take to the homeless shelter. She didn’t come to confession.

She’s avoiding me. Out of shame? The idea crushes me. She has nothing to feel ashamed of. I’m not judging what she’s doing. I understand her motivations. I just don’t want her to do it because she shouldn’t have to.

Because she should be mine , a small voice whispers in the back of my head. I scrub a hand over my face, trying to ignore it.

I wish I could just give her the money to help Alessandro. But I know she wouldn’t take it. I’d tried to offer last week during the confessional and she’d all but rejected my offer of help.

So, fine. We’ll do this her way.

I’m wearing the carpet thin in front of the window, pacing as my thoughts swirl.

As my heart pounds. As I try to convince myself I’m here for altruistic reasons.

As I remind myself that nothing is going to happen between me and Olivia.

I’m her priest, for fuck’s sake. Not to mention that I’m seventeen years older than her.

I know that she’s twenty-one. I’m thirty-eight.

I took a vow of celibacy. I can’t break it.

No matter how much Olivia makes me want to.

I remind myself that she doesn’t want me, and that it doesn’t matter what I want. I’m here for her. To help her. I’m not going to take advantage of the situation. I would never.

Assuming I win the auction. What if I don’t? What if the bidding goes too high and it’s more money than I have? I’m prepared to drain my life savings for her. But what if it’s not enough? I’ve been a priest for the past eleven years. I’m not exactly rolling in it.

I pace to the other side of the room, my pulse roaring in my ears, my hands shaking. I catch sight of myself in the mirror near the door. I’m not wearing my clerical clothes tonight. Just a dark blue T-shirt and a pair of worn jeans. No collar. No vestments.

Just me.

I stalk to the mini bar and pull out the small bottle of expensive whiskey. I don’t care how much it costs. Right now, I need a drink. I pour a generous amount into one of the prettily displayed crystal tumblers and take a sip. The whiskey cuts a warming path right down the center of my chest.

My phone buzzes from where I’d set it on the desk beside my laptop, the sound loud and harsh in the silent hotel suite. When I pick it up, my heart starts pounding even harder.

It’s time.

I sink down into the leather desk chair and flip open my laptop. I’ve already got the auction site open, and I quickly log in. I see other users start to populate the auction page, and my stomach churns. I close my eyes, my fingers hovering over the keys.

“Lord, forgive me for what I’m about to do,” I say quietly. “Guide me, be with me, and whatever happens, watch over Olivia and keep her safe.”

The page refreshes and there’s a new photo of Olivia on the page.

Her impossibly long hair is down, almost reaching her waist, and she’s smiling in front of a willow tree, the sun turning her olive skin golden.

She’s wearing a pretty blue and white sundress I’ve seen her wear to mass in the recent past. My heart clenches at the sight of her, and a single word seems to beat through my body.

Mine.

My stomach churns again. I shouldn’t be doing this, but I’m not going to back out. I can’t. Olivia needs me. She may not need me in the way that I need her, but there was no way I was going to be able to stay away. To not do everything in my power to keep her safe.

I sip my whiskey as I wait.

A countdown flashes on the screen, and then the auction begins. The numbers start climbing quickly, and I watch, my jaw clenched tightly as strangers talk about her like she’s an object. Like she’s a prize to be won, used, and discarded.

User342: I can’t wait to wreck her. She looks so innocent.

BigDick77: What’s her limit? Ass up for grabs too?

MonsterMeat69: Bet I make her cry when I tear her up.

I feel each comment like a punch to the gut, and every single one fuels my anger, morphing it into something hot and dangerous.

It’s rage burning through me, now. These so-called men, these fucking monsters, talking about her like she’s a piece of meat.

My hands shake as I type in my first bid.

I don’t care about the cost. I don’t care about the line I’m crossing.

I don’t care about my own personal motivations for being here.

I care about her. About keeping her away from these assholes.

The numbers jump again. I counter. Back and forth, the bids climb, reaching an eye watering amount of money. My heart is a war drum in my chest, my palms damp with sweat. I’m going to spend every cent I have on her.

Because Olivia’s mine. Mine to protect. Mine to save. Mine to—

NO . I shut down the thought, focusing on the screen. The bidding war rages on, and I’m all in. Whatever it takes. Whatever the cost, Olivia is worth it.

The pace of the bidding slows down, and several users drop out entirely. The increments are smaller now. A clock appears in the top right corner of the screen and begins counting down from five minutes. I bid again. It’s nearly everything I have, but I don’t care.

Three minutes left.

Two.

My heart hammers in my chest, a relentless drumbeat that pulses through my body. Another bid comes in, and I wait, watching the clock.

“Lord, if this is wrong, stop me,” I whisper, a final prayer as the last seconds count down. “But if it’s not, if this is your will, be with me now.”

With seconds remaining, I place one last bid.

The clock hits zero, and the auction closes. It’s over.

The screen refreshes.

Congratulations! You’ve won!

I stare at the gold letters that pop up on my screen.

My breath leaves me in a rush, relief flooding through me, so intense and immediate that I can’t move for several seconds.

I sag back in the chair, rubbing a hand over my face.

I did it. She’s safe. She’ll have the money she needs without having to give such a precious part of herself to a stranger.

To a man who doesn’t love and cherish her the way she deserves.

A private message pops up on my screen, confirming my room number and telling me my “prize” will be here shortly. I close my eyes, drawing in a deep breath. My prize. My angel. Olivia. Here, alone in this beautiful hotel room, with me.

I should leave. I should write her a note telling her she’s free to go, the money is hers, and leave.

But I don’t.

Because the thought of her here in this room with me has me instantly hard, my balls drawing up painfully, heat simmering in my gut.

I’m aching. My cock is straining against the confines of my jeans.

I shift in my seat, palming my erection.

This isn’t about sex , I remind myself. This is about keeping an innocent young woman safe.

It’s about protecting a member of my church.

My dick doesn’t get the message, still flying at full mast.

Because I’m still thinking about Olivia joining me in this hotel suite. That we’ll be alone with a massive king-sized bed and complete privacy.

I stand up, pacing to the window again. The city sprawls out beneath me, and I try to distract myself by studying the steel and glass architecture, the glowing lights, the flash of billboards. When that doesn’t work, I try to think of anything that might distract me from how I’m feeling right now.

Because as much as I want Olivia, I don’t have any indication that she wants me. And letting myself get worked up over what I want without any consideration for her makes me just as bad as those mouth breathers in the auction’s chat.

But it’s no use. No matter what I do, my mind is full of Olivia. Her smile. Her laugh. The way her eyes light up when she talks about something that matters to her. The way she frowns when she’s concentrating.

I’m consumed with this desperate, aching need. I’ve never felt anything like it in my life. I’ve had women in my life, before I became a priest. I didn’t enter the seminary until after university. I had girlfriends in high school. I had several in university. Never anything serious.

Never anything like what I feel for Olivia Marino.

I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. And now, technically, she’s mine for the night.

To protect , I remind myself sternly. To keep safe. Not to claim.

But even as I think the words, they don’t feel true. I’m lying to myself. Because I do want to claim her. I want to make her mine in every way possible.

I feel like I’m being ripped to shreds, the battle over what I want and what I should do tearing my soul into little pieces. I’m about to come apart at the seams. I’m a priest. I shouldn’t want anyone. And yet, I’d happily burn in hell if I had any indication Olivia wanted me, too.

I’m too obsessed with her. Too in love. The faintest green light, and I’ll charge ahead, cock first. I won’t be able to stop myself. I know I won’t.

A soft knock at the door has me turning from the window, my heart fierce and wild in my chest. She’s here.

I toss back the rest of my whiskey.

God help me.