Cruel Shame (Knights of Templar Academy #3) - Sofia Daniel Page 0,56
the way my feet crunched over the tiny stones with every step. After rounding the corner, I rested my back against the wall and sighed. What I wouldn’t do right now for a few puffs of Heavenly Kush.
A laugh snorted from deep within my belly at the sight of Sammy getting the shit kicked out of him by Kendrick, and Billy Hancock holding the kennel door because he was as weak as shit.
Tipping my head to the overcast sky, I exhaled a long stream of condensation, letting it scatter into the cold breeze. There was no way Lady Liddell would let me live after the archbishop’s admission.
If my life was a Disney movie, I’d be Esmerelda, Elizabeth would be that horny priest, and her mother would be Quasimodo. I tilted my head to the side. That wasn’t right. Quasimodo was good. Maybe I could make a mashup where Maleficent bleached her hair and sided with Frollo to attack Esmerelda.
A door around the corner slammed shut, and two sets of heavy footsteps trampled on the frost-covered gravel.
“Your Grace,” said a whining voice that raked down my nerves like rodents’ claws. “You and I know I didn’t father that child.”
A breath caught in the back of my throat. Father Neapolitan and the archbishop, talking about me?
“Thomas,” the archbishop replied in a weary voice. “All signs point to you fathering the young woman. You as much as admitted to me that you and Miss Burgh—”
“That was consensual,” Father Neapolitan
“Then congratulations,” the older man drawled. “It’s a girl.”
“But…” Father spluttered. “She’s as much of a whore as her mother.”
The archbishop chuckled. “Sour grapes?”
“Of course, not.” I imagined right now a red flush crawling over Father Neapolitan’s face. “One cannot associate oneself with such a wanton creature. It was only months ago that the police dragged her out of bed naked with the Deloraine boys.”
My nostrils flared, and I clenched my teeth. Whatever happened to thou shalt not bear false witness? Probably the thing he did with thou shalt not covet—he shoved right up his ass, deciding he was above the commandments he preached every week.
“Perhaps it’s time to reach out to the young woman and offer her guidance,” the archbishop said, without correcting him that I hadn’t participated in a spit roast with the twins. “She hasn’t had the best of parental role models.”
The scent of tobacco reached my nostrils. It was that deep, aromatic mix of cedar and spice that reminded me of the cigars Billy Hancock smoked whenever he wanted to impress company. I crept around the flowerbed to find the archbishop in a black overcoat, smoking a cigarillo. Father Neapolitan wrapped an arm around his middle, sucking on a regular cigarette. He turned his gaze in my direction, and our eyes met.
A bolt of alarm shot through my gut, and I jogged around the building, not quite ready for a confrontation with that rapist and his friend without backup. My surroundings disappeared into a blur white streaks and clomping footsteps, with the cold wind slicing over my skin.
By the time I reached the double doors and staggered up the stairs, only the pounding of my heart filled my ears. I glanced down the driveway to find it empty.
“Shit, that was close,” I muttered.
A bell rang through the academy’s wood-paneled reception area, indicating that it was ten o’clock—the time Mr. Burgh was supposed to meet the Board of Governors. Wishing my grandfather good luck and hoping he’d brought a solicitor, I jogged through the hallway toward the fire exit and pulled a pack of tissues from my blazer.
Two butts lay on the frosty ground. One cigarette and one cigarillo. After wrapping them both in their individual tissues, I slipped them into my pocket and made my way back to class. Maxwell would probably find them useful, and I needed Father Neapolitan’s DNA for reasons of my own.
As I headed back through the hallway, toward the main entrance, Orlando snuck up from behind and snaked an arm around my waist.
“Are you stalking me?” I asked with a smirk.
“I knew you had a free period and wanted to find out how it went.” He steered me through the crowds of students dashing toward their next class and toward the end of the building farthest away from the boardroom.
Out of paranoia, I glanced over my shoulder. There was little chance of me running into Father Neapolitan or any of the school governors when they were so eager to meet with Mr. Burgh, but that I