Page 21 of Vicious Behaviors

Rookie mistake.

It was just the rash decision my mother was looking for to take full advantage of. She pounced the second I stepped through the door, roping me into Mass with the family.

Unable to deny her anything, I showered, slipped into my Sunday best, and found myself tagging along to church like some repentant sheep.

The devil, relishing in my discomfort, remains silent as Father Alejandro recites passages from the good book.

I didn’t always feel like a fraud in church. Back when I was young and clueless to the wrongs of the world, Sunday Mass had a certain magical quality. It made me feel connected to something bigger. It gave me hope that maybe I could make adifference, that some higher power was out there, guiding me down the right path.

I used to love coming here. It made me feel safe. At peace. However, that feeling has long since vanished. Once the devil took root in my soul, this place became just another reminder of how far I’d fallen.

How could I possibly be a force for good when darkness lives inside me? Even if Father McDonagh hadn’t explicitly said evil was corrupting me, I still would’ve felt out of place.

Taking a life—any life—changes a person. That’s a lesson I learned far too young. A lesson I’m still paying for.

I’m the last person who should be here. Absolution isn’t mine to have. My soul is too far gone to even ask for it.

“Mar? Are you okay?” Stella whispers beside me, slipping her hand into mine and giving it a gentle squeeze.

I continue to stare straight ahead, unable to give her an answer. I don’t lie to Stella. Not Stella. I might hide who I am from everyone else, but never her. I tried to once, and it nearly broke us.

“That’s what I thought,” she mutters, lips tightening into a thin line. “Mammàshouldn’t have bullied you into coming. You do know you’re allowed to say no to her, right?” The corner of my lips raises slightly, since that is such a Stella thing to say.

Stella and my mother have always butted heads. Two strong personalities, constantly crashing into each other like waves on a cliff. However, I’ve never been good at saying no to Mom. Mostly because when I do, I just end up worrying her, and she already spends enough sleepless nights worrying about me as it is.

“It’s okay,” I say and offer a shy smile, enough to relax Stella’s tense shoulders.

“Liar,” she teases, giving me a wink before shifting her gaze back to Father Alejandro. She then glances at Enzo at the end of the pew and rolls her eyes when she catches him ogling hisboyfriend at the altar. “This is so messed up. If half these people knew what Alejandro and Enzo got up to behind closed doors, they’d be scarred for life.”

“Stella,” our father, Giovanni, whispers cautiously over his shoulder in front of us.

However, Stella just shrugs it off. “What? It’s true. Most of these rosary-poundingbacchettoniwould shit a brick if they knew their shiny new priest couldn’t keep it in his cassock for even a month once Enzo got his sights on him.”

“Stella, stop,” Annamaria says gently, keeping her voice low. “Alejandro’s family now.”

“Is he?” Stella arches a brow. “Because as far as I can tell, he’s still playing both sides. You’re either a priest or you’re one of us. You can’t have it both ways.”

“Maybe he’s just trying to figure things out. It can’t be easy for him, you know?” Annamaria explains, always the empath to someone else’s suffering and struggle. “Turning your back on your vocation is no small thing. Give him time.”

“Anna’s right,” I chime in softly. “We need to be patient.”

Stella snorts. “Have you met me, Mar? Patience isn’t exactly my forte.”

“Don’t we know it.” Annamaria giggles, quickly covering her mouth with her hand before drawing attention to herself. The melodic sound makes me smile for real this time.

“Laugh all you want,” Stella frowns, “but you know I’m right. Every second Alejandro struggles with his conscience is a second closer to him cracking and running his mouth to the cops.”

“He won’t do that,” Annamaria defends just as quickly, her worried eyes locking with mine. “He won’t, Mar.”

My spine stiffens, forcing me to look away from her pleading gaze.

“Pray you’re right. Because if he does…” Stella says, letting the unfinished threat dangle in the air like a loaded weapon.

“You… wouldn’t,” Annamaria whispers, her frightened voice barely audible.

“Wouldn’t I?” Stella fires back, calm and lethal. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my family, Anna. And until Alejandro is truly a part of it, then he’s shit out of luck.”

Annamaria blanches at the quiet finality in Stella’s voice.