Page 87 of Hotter 'N Hell

I had battled coming to a Mass service all morning and decided if I didn’t come check on him, I was going to go crazy. Something was wrong. I refused to believe he would just ghost me. That wasn’t like Jude. He might not love me, but he did have strong feelings for me. It wasn’t just sex. Although, last week, there had been a lot of sex.

I chewed my bottom lip, ready for this service to end so I could go talk to him. Seeing him up front had at least eased my niggling fear that we had been caught. But that wasn’t the case, or they wouldn’t have allowed him up there. I didn’t know all the rules, but I did know they had rigid ones, and a priest caught fucking would be a big deal.

He’d glanced over me once, and since then, he kept his gaze anywhere but this direction. My throat got tighter every second that ticked by. I had kept reading his text, trying to decide if there was a hidden message in it. But what could be hidden in that? Not one damn thing.

When the prayer ended, my grip on my purse tightened, and I watched as people began to file out. Many lining up to speakto Jude, who was making his way to be stationed at the exit. It was so ceremonial and proper. His gaze didn’t cut this way as he passed. I would have thought I was invisible again if I hadn’t seen his shoulders visibly tense.

What had I done? Did I make a mistake? Wouldn’t he have confronted me if I had? His text hadn’t been a goodbye text. It had been a very oddcan’t see you this weekendtext.

I held myself back, wanting to be near the end so I could ask him if he was okay. Get him to look at me. I needed some reassurance. Because right now, I was teetering on panic. My anxiety slowly taking over. He wouldn’t want to end things. Would he?

What if he did? How would I survive it? He’d told me he wouldn’t hurt me. I had believed him. Was he feeling guilty about what we were doing?

I pressed a fist to my stomach, focusing on my breathing. I would not have a complete breakdown in this line. I was overreacting. That was all.

I listened, completely tuned in to his deep drawl. His words were that of a priest, yet his voice was not fitting it at all. But then I had heard that voice say dirty things. I’d heard him as he got off. I knew the man no one else did.

A couple stopped, and the woman gushed, then nodded her head to the older lady in front of me and then me since I was last. It looked like they were waiting.

No, no, no. Leave, clingy people. I need him alone. Not with you standing there.

Frustration mounted as the older lady in front of me left, and finally, Jude’s gaze met mine. I saw it then. Something was very wrong.

Why were these people still standing there?

Go away!

“It was good to see you in service today, Miss Rice,” hesaid, then turned to look at the couple waiting on him. “Carp, Hannah, this is Miss Saylor Rice. She’s been volunteering at the free clothes closet, and she’s helping to set up a food pantry.”

The lady he had called Hannah beamed at me. “That is just wonderful. I love seeing young people with a servant’s heart. It seems you have beauty inside and out.”

That was sweet. Thanks. Now, you can go.

“I was hoping I could speak with you about that,” I said when it was clear he was dismissing me.

His gaze hardened. “I am terribly sorry. There isn’t an availability for that on my schedule today. Sister Mena, however, would be an excellent one to discuss any questions you have.”

I felt sick. My skin was clammy. I blinked. He gave me a generic smile that did not meet his eyes as he nodded his head, as if I should leave now.

“I’m sorry,” Hannah said behind me.

Turning as I tried to process this, I looked at her.

She gave me an apologetic smile. “We’re in town, visiting with Father Jude. We’ve got his time monopolized all day.”

I nodded, and I didn’t know if I smiled or grimaced. My face felt numb. I couldn’t look at him. I began walking. My feet taking me farther away.

That had been obvious. He had not wanted to talk to me. He was shutting me out.

I stared out at the parking lot, not sure where I had parked my car.

What had I done? I tried to remember our last time together. It had been in the rectory. He’d sent me a text to meet him in there Friday. We ripped each other’s clothes off, and then he bent me over the table and took me. Spilling inside me, telling me how perfect I was. He kissed me and said he’d see me that night.

Then, the text had come exactly one hour later.

It didn’t make sense.

“Is everything okay?”