Chapter 7

Caine

Fifteen years ago

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” Looking up at the cross in the tiny, dimly lit room, I inhaled, sucking deep until the red ember tip burned through to the end of the rolling paper, heating my thumb and forefinger.

“You can’t ask forgiveness for shit when you’re in the middle of sinning again. You’re supposed to be repentful, dickwad.”

“Show some respect with your language. We’re in a church, for Christ’s sake.”

Liam laughed from the other side of the dark booth. “Yeah, right. You just smoked a fatty in a confessional, and it’s my language that’s disrespectful.”

He had a point. And since my half-baked brain was transitioning nicely into full-on mellow mode, I ditched out the tiny remnant of my smoke on the floor and slipped it into my pocket while it was still warm.

“I’m outta here,” Liam said.

“We’re supposed to work until noon.”

“Screw that shit. Tell Father Frank I went home to spank one out if he looks for me.” The sliding wooden window we’d been talking through, the one that separated the two sides of the confessional and covered the confidentiality screen, slammed shut. The door followed right behind as Liam took off.

There was still a half hour until I could go sign out with Father Frank, so I settled in, leaning my back against the cushioned red fabric, hoping to catch a few z’s. The chair was pretty damn comfortable on the priest’s side, must have been because they got stuck listening to other people’s bullshit for hours every Saturday afternoon. I had no idea how these guys spent their entire lives in this place. Just being here for the last few Saturdays had been enough to freak me out.

Three weeks ago, my mother caught Liam and me ditching school again. It was our senior year, my mom was normally pretty cool, and parents expected a few cuts. That wasn’t what sent God-fearing Grace West off the deep end. It wasn’t even finding a half-naked and fully-stoned Emily Willis on her knees about to give me a blowjob in the yard that had freaked Mom out. Nope. What had gotten me involuntarily signed up for a month of cleaning St. Killian’s on Saturday mornings was my music. Both of my parents hated that I had no intention of going to college or becoming part of the upstanding, family-owned investment firm that bore the West name.

So, I was sentenced to community service for wanting to play my drums and sing. After Father Frank’s long talk with my mother, he also took every chance to remind Liam and me that playing music was no way for a man to make a living. Thank God, I only had one more week left here.

I’d just started to zone out with my eyes shut when the confessional door squeaked open. I had assumed it was Liam again.

“Sin again so soon, loser?” I said.

It sure as hell wasn’t Liam who responded. The voice was tiny and shook with nerves as she spoke. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”

Shit.

A little girl was on the other side and had assumed I was a priest. From the sound of her voice, I figured she couldn’t have been older than ten or eleven. What the hell could she have to confess?

I probably should have opened the door and walked out before she started to let me in on her darkest secrets. No, not probably. I definitely should have walked out. But…maybe it was the good weed. Maybe it was the sound of her shaky little voice that had me curious. Maybe I was just fucked up in the head. But instead of literally opening the door, I opened a figurative one instead. One that I had no idea would change my life forever when I opened my mouth.

“Go on,” I told her. “Tell me your sins.”