The Sinners of Saint Amos - Logan Fox Page 0,118

infirmary, where a grim-faced Timothy was filling up an orange prescription bottle for him.

When I’d tried to catch up to Cass in the hallway, he’d shoved me out of the way without saying a word. I know when I’m not wanted. I didn’t try and go to him again. I was hoping he’d have cooled off by now. Guess I was wrong.

I’ve been getting a lot of shit wrong lately.

“Does Reuben know?” Apollo asks quietly.

“No.”

“I’ll have to tell him.”

“Obviously.”

Apollo lets out a sigh. “He’s gonna be pissed.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Yeah, of course. But what’s done is done, right? Can’t change anything. No reason to start yelling and shit.”

I go over to refill my glass.

“Don’t you have class?” Apollo asks.

I set the bottle down again. “Yeah. Fuck.”

“Smoke a blunt,” Apollo says, coming up behind me. He lays a hand on my shoulder and squeezes my muscle. “It’ll help more than the whiskey. Want me to roll—?”

“Don’t you have shit to do?” I snap. “Reuben, the data, breakfast? Sounds like a busy fucking morning.”

Apollo withdraws his hand. The sigh he lets out as he leaves takes me back.

Fuck, it takes me back.

I’m losing my shit again, and he knows it. Cass probably knew it before anyone, but he loves playing with fire just as much as the rest of us.

But no one, no one likes to get burnt.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Trinity

Instead of going to morning prayer, I hide out in a restroom stall staring at the freshly painted door. From the faint marks shining beneath the white paint, it looks like someone had gone to town on the thing with a Sharpie. Wish I knew what they’d written.

My appetite hasn’t been back since I puked last night so I don’t bother going to the cafeteria when the breakfast bell rings. Instead, I head back to my room and try and get in an hour’s sleep.

The next bell rings me from a death-like sleep I don’t remember falling into.

Time for class.

Thankfully, I only have Calculus and Sociology before lunch. It gives me half the day to work up the courage to find a way to excuse myself from Psych with Brother Rutherford.

Despite my nap, exhaustion weighs down my limbs and fogs my mind.

I had an affair with your father.

I. Can’t. Even.

I thought I’d wanted answers from Gabriel, but I changed my mind.

Now that the shock’s worn off, all I’m left with is a weird mix of disgust and anger. Not disgust over the fact they’re two guys, but because Dad cheated on my mom. And with our fucking priest, of all people.

But that’s not what’s eating me alive.

If Gabriel is capable of having an affair, then what else is he capable of? And since he’s openly admitted that he has sex with men…

I cover my face with my hands and rock forward on my bed. Class starts in a few minutes, and I’m still dressed in last night’s clothes.

I came to Saint Amos to be with the man I thought of as a friend.

But I was wrong. There’s nothing here for me. No friends. No support.

Come the weekend, when all the other students transfer over to Sisters of Mercy for spring break…

I’ll be going with them.

When I enter the dining hall at lunch, finally peckish for the first time today, I immediately regret my decision when I spot my tray with its pink post-it note.

TRIN

There’s a heart over the I again. Thankfully, the actual food inside looks like everyone else’s. If anything had been cut into the shape of a heart, I’d have bolted.

Jasper tries to get my attention, but I ignore him and head for the back of the room. When I walk past the kitchen doors, I spot Apollo through the window.

I ignore him too, even when he beckons me with a flick of his hand.

The Brotherhood has what it wants. I’m sure Gabriel’s computer was stuffed full of all sorts of incriminating evidence. It’s time they realized I’m not useful anymore and left me alone.

Apollo doesn’t leave the kitchen or try and attract my attention again. I sit and eat my sandwich, pretending not to notice the way the boys around me stare as if expecting me to start doing somersaults.

Then Sister Miriam comes up to me, stopping right beside my bench during her usual rounds.

I pause mid-chew and look up at her as my mouthful of cheese-and-tomato sandwich dissolves on my tongue.

My stomach flips over when she hands me a folded note. “What’s this?”

“It’s a note, Miss Malone.” Miriam’s voice could have fixed