The Sinners of Saint Amos - Logan Fox Page 0,46

happened.

Everything.

He said I’m safe here, and look what’s happened? I’ve been bullied and falsely accused without a say in the matter.

Would he honestly let that happen?

A few minutes later, I’m standing in front of Father Gabriel’s door. It takes every ounce of courage I have to knock. I’m still not convinced I can tell him everything, but I’m craving his comfort. I need someone to hold me and tell me everything’s going to be okay.

Like a toddler with a boo-boo. Real mature, Trinity.

My knock sounds too loud in this broad, empty hallway.

But obviously, it isn’t loud enough because there’s no response.

I try again.

My hand goes over the doorknob. Locked.

Ha. So much for him trusting his things are safe. I guess that only applies to orphans like me who don’t have anything valuable to steal.

I step back, bristling with a sudden anger.

I’m about to give the door the finger when movement catches my eye.

Reuben walks down the hallway. I stiffen, and like the idiot I am, I don’t even think of fleeing.

“He’s not here,” Reuben says.

“Yeah, I figured.”

“He’ll be back tomorrow.”

“You his PA or something?”

There’s not a hint of what he might be thinking in those black eyes. “Or something,” he says. “You should be in your room.” His eyes dart down to the clothes bundled up in my arm. “What are you doing up here?”

I’m not big on lies. My mother had a good nose for them, and she’d catch me out every time. It was easier to tell her the truth. But lies come easier when you’re dealing with strangers. The past few weeks have been a learning curve for me.

I’m fine.

No, I don’t need to speak to a counselor.

Yes, I’ve said my prayers.

I’m still the furthest thing from a conman, but I’m pretty sure I sound convincing when I say, “Father Gabriel said I could use his bathroom so I don’t have to share with the boys.” I cross my arms, lifting my chin as I mentally dare Reuben to see through my lie. “But he forgot to leave me his key. Do you have one?”

The faintest smile touches Reuben’s generous mouth. “I wish I did.”

“Well, then, it’s pointless us standing here, isn’t it?” I put on my iciest expression and swing around to leave.

A hand closes around my shoulder and turns me back. I wince as my skirt shifts against my sensitive backside. But I smooth away the pained look before Reuben can notice.

“You should be careful around him,” Reuben says.

“Father Gabriel?” I laugh. “You know he’s a bishop, right?”

“Not anymore.” Reuben dips his head, and the dim lighting in the hallway casts pools of shadows in his eye sockets. “And even if he still was, titles don’t mean anything around here.”

“I’m sure the provost thinks different.” I snatch my shoulder away from his fingers and take a quick step back.

He doesn’t try and touch me again, but his eyes fall to my chest instead.

Ugh. Why are men so disgusting? They see anything with boobs, and they can’t seem to think straight.

I whirl around and hurry down the hall as fast as my sore ass allows. Just before I take the stairs, I glance back over my shoulder.

The hallway is empty.

Reuben is gone.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Trinity

My footsteps echo hollowly as I head for the closest shower stall. I stopped to use the restroom on the way here, and everywhere I went it was like walking through a frozen world.

There’s a strange hush in Saint Amos this late at night. As if the building itself is sleeping too.

Or waiting.

There’s a chance Reuben might still be stalking the halls. Heaven knows what he was doing on Father Gabriel’s floor to begin with. Maybe him and Cassius work in shifts. But I’m pretty sure he has better things to do than stalk me.

I force a smile.

It doesn’t help.

I shiver, and look over my shoulder.

A quick shower, and then back in bed. There’s no way Sister Miriam will let me take another day off—I’m going to need all the restorative sleep I can get. I wish I had more of whatever it was Zachary gave me to smoke. It worked tons better than the salve.

It was weed, wasn’t it? Because I’m pretty sure you smoke crack through a glass pipe or something.

I turn on the shower.

Icy water splashes down, making me squeal in surprise and snatch away my hand.

The water becomes lukewarm, then hot.

Yes!

I pull my dress over my head with a wince, and toss it on the floor. My dry clothes are