Lessons in Sin by Pam Godwin

CHAPTER 2

TINSLEY

Iscrambled to my feet and brushed off my pants while inching closer to my mother. I wanted to grab her and beg her not to leave me here with this priest. But something told me I shouldn’t show fear or weakness in his presence.

His gaze fed upon the trembling in my hands. The twitch of his lips said he liked it. He enjoyed my distress. God, I hoped I was wrong. Maybe his frosty greeting was nothing more than a scare tactic to keep new students in line.

“Caroline Constantine.” My mother extended a manicured hand, her voice silky smooth. “You spoke to my assistant and agreed to my requirements for Tinsley’s instruction.”

“I’m aware.” He grasped her fingers.

She smiled, tightening her grip. He gave no reaction, and the handshake lingered long after the two-second rule.

Celibate or not, no man could resist my mother. She was a portrait of gilded beauty. With her golden hair and glowing skin, she could be mistaken for my older sister, and she knew it. Her confidence was one of her greatest weapons, and God help the poor souls who fell into her trap.

She slowly withdrew her hand, maintaining eye contact. “You have a reputation, Father Falke.”

“Magnus.”

“Father Magnus.” She cocked her head, wearing a pleasant expression. “I’ve chosen your school for my youngest because you have a history of success in reforming troubled girls and transforming them into respectable young ladies.”

“Wait. What?” My stomach clenched. “This is a boarding school, not a reform school.” A buzzing sound thrashed in my ears. “Right?”

She continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “I understand that you will personally take over Tinsley’s education and discipline.”

“Yes.” His detached tone chilled me.

“Are you serious?” My mouth hung open. “I’m not troubled, and I sure as hell don’t need special treatment. What is this? What are you not telling me?”

She tossed me an irritated glance. “Father Magnus offers a unique training program for girls like you.”

“Girls like me? You mean girls who exist only as pawns for their parents in business negotiations?”

“I don’t have time for this.”

“Oh, right, so you’re referring to the girls whose mothers are too busy, too important to deal with insignificant tasks like parenting.” Rancor burned in my throat. “You’re a monster.”

“If I were a monster, I would sit back and watch you ruin your life.”

“Instead, you’ll happily ruin it for me.” Disgusted, I looked away, forcing my attention to Father Magnus. “What’s the arrangement that was made for me?”

“Most students come in as freshmen.” Rich, deep, and startlingly seductive, his voice curled into my belly, tightening it. “Since you’re a senior, your situation is different. Tomorrow, you’ll take a series of aptitude tests. Once I know your academic skill level, I’ll determine your class schedule. You may have some classes with your peers. But in the courses where you’re struggling—”

“I’m not struggling. My grades are stellar.”

“The elite curriculum at Sion Academy is leagues ahead of other private schools. I’ll work with you one-on-one to bring you up to speed on your lessons and religious training, as well as correcting your behavior.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my behavior.”

His hand lowered to his side, drawing my attention to the motion of his thumb rubbing against his forefinger. God only knew what that subtle gesture meant, but it made me wonder if he were fighting the impulse to reach out and strangle me.

Did he think I was disrespectful? Mouthy? Slutty? Ignorant? What had he been told about me? And how much of it was true?

“What do you mean by correcting my behavior?” I stood taller, trying to appear as unflappable as he was.

“It can mean many things.”

Vague.Never a good sign.

Hollywood liked to portray Catholic school priests as tyrannical and heartless. But that couldn’t be accurate. Godly people were supposed to be compassionate.

Except I didn’t detect an ounce of compassion in his stony eyes. Instead, they promised insufferable rules and swift punishment.

A creeping sense of dread settled over me. “What are the punishments here?”

“For minor misdeeds, you’ll pray the rosary. Other penances may include an early curfew, manual labor, or social isolation.” His low, velvety baritone was a taunt in my ears. “In extreme cases, corporal punishment is employed.”

“That’s…” My mouth dried. “You mean abuse?”

“Physical pain and psychological humiliation.”

“Oh my God.” I wasn’t aware of my feet moving backward until I bumped into my mother. “You hit your students? Like…with a paddle? A yardstick?”

“Strap and cane.”

“What?” I froze, certain I hadn’t heard him correctly.

“It’s not a common practice at Sion Academy, but sometimes, a heavy hand is required.”

“Are you hearing this?” I spun toward my mother.

“Do as you’re told,” she said in a bored tone, “and your schooling will be painless.”

“Beating students is illegal!”

“There are no federal or state laws against corporal punishment in private schools.” She smiled, and that hurt more than anything.

“If I come home with bruises, you won’t care, will you? Unless someone notices them in public?”

“When I see you again, I expect you to have grown out of this childish behavior and be long past physical punishment.”

“What do you mean? I’ll see you in a week. Parents visit on the weekends and—”

“Out of the question. If I receive a satisfactory report from Father Magnus in a few months, I’ll allow you a visit home during the holidays.”

“Why are you doing this?” My voice bled cold fury. “Because I broke your rules? Fine. Send me to another school. Uprooting my life is punishment enough. But to turn me over to a stranger who admittedly beats his students? You must truly despise me.”

“Are you finished?”

“No.” I spat away the last shred of respect I had for this woman.

Then and there, I made a promise to myself. She thought I was bad? She had no idea. Bad girls got kicked out of boarding school.

I vowed to do everything in my power to get expelled.

“If you leave me here,” I said, “I’ll tarnish our family name so completely you won’t be able to keep it out of the press.”

Unmoved, she arched a brow at Father Magnus. “She didn’t use to be this quarrelsome. I don’t know what’s gotten into her.”

“Not Robby Howard. Or any other guy.” I lifted my chin. “You’re the world’s biggest cockblocker.”

“You’re walking on thin ice, young lady.”

“Okay, Boomer. You’re the one trusting a priest to watch me instead of a team of bodyguards. Way to lose touch with reality.”

She was technically too young to be part of the baby boomer generation. I only used the term to piss her off.

“Wait in the hall.” A quiet command, but her voice cut like a knife.

“You wait in the hall.” I crossed my arms, swallowing the bundle of fear in my throat.

“I won’t tell you again.” She thrust a finger toward the door.

I shook my head, pushing my luck. “Prove you have a grain of decency in your heart and take me home.”

I braced for the pain that I knew her response would inflict. But it was Father Magnus who reacted. He stepped forward slowly, menacingly. I tried to hold my ground, but his powerful strides crushed the distance, forcing me to retreat.

He crowded my space, his towering frame putting me at eye level with his chest. No part of him touched me, but I didn’t give him a chance, my spine bowing, my entire body recoiling as I fought to refill my lungs. He stayed with me, bending closer. I shuffled back, and he advanced again, and again, every step trampling my boundaries and incinerating my bravado.

If I wanted to survive this, survive him, I couldn’t let him bully me. But my limbs flinched without conscious volition, my feet sliding in reverse, instinctively fleeing the nefarious vibes radiating from him.

Tight cords and ridges of muscle—too much power lay beneath his unassuming clothes, ready to back up that threatening scowl.

Was he angry? Or did he look at all his students like he wanted to break them over his knee?

“What are you doing?” Pulse racing, I continued to retreat until my spine bounced off the doorframe. “Back off. Don’t touch me.”

He didn’t lift a finger. No physical contact between us. But he didn’t ease up, either. His steps were deliberate and unhurried as he forced me into the hall with nothing more than his proximity.

I couldn’t ignore how tiny and breakable I felt next to him, how physically inferior I was compared to his strength and size. But it wasn’t just his unexpected physique that had me seeking distance. It was the meanness in his eyes. The unholy promise in them.

This wasn’t a teacher who gave a fuck about my circumstances. He was a sick, twisted bully who got off on intimidating his students.

How many girls had he reformed? Brainwashed? Abused? How many lives had he broken?

The backs of my legs hit the bench in the hall, toppling my balance. My bottom collided with the seat, and he dove in, bending over me with a hand splayed on the wall beside my head.

Don’t cower. You can handle whatever he dishes out.

“I’m going to say this only once.” He thrust his other hand, palm up, between us. “Give me your phone.”

My insides shriveled at the sound of his voice. A terse command that tolerated no argument. A gravelly timbre that vibrated in my chest. A sculpted mouth that dragged me into the darkness.

The corridor faded away as I stared at the brutal beauty of his face. He was close, so goddamn up in my space that I felt the heat of his breath, and oh my fuck, he smelled good. Seductively dark and woodsy, like exotic incense and something more. Something carnal and manly, unlike anything sold in a designer bottle. My nose rejoiced in the aroma, my nostrils flaring, taking deep pulls, savoring.

Snap out of it.

I held my breath and averted my eyes. What was happening to me? I couldn’t be in thrall to a man who meant to hurt me. Nausea swirled, stirring icy fear in my stomach.

He didn’t need words to scare the shit out of me. His nearness alone frazzled my nerves all to hell.

I just needed him to leave, and the quickest way to make that happen was to give him what he wanted.

Tugging the phone from my pocket, I slapped it in his waiting hand.

I knew that in a couple of hours I was going to find myself lying in a strange bed, scared and alone, cursing my decision to surrender my connection to the outside world. My phone was my lifeline to my brother.

Keaton was annoyingly overprotective of me, but only because he cared. He was the one I turned to when I needed help, words of advice, or a shoulder to lean on.

I was going to need him more than anything tonight.

My chest ached as I watched the phone vanish in Father Magnus’s pocket. Out of my reach.

He returned to the classroom and paused just inside, his hand resting on the doorframe. Every sinew in my body was strung tight as he glanced over his shoulder and met my gaze.

I expected indifference, but what I saw in his expression was worse.

His eyes glinted with triumph.

He thought he’d won. He thought, from here on out, I would cower and cease resisting, that I would be malleable and easy to control. He thought he had my capitulation.

As if.

He’d never crossed swords with a Constantine.

My destiny was of my own making, and I was willing to ruin my reputation to get the hell out of here. If he stood in my way, I would take him down with me.

“I promise you this.” I squared my shoulders and stood, facing him head-on. “I’m going to make your life a living hell.”

“Hell is fast approaching, little girl. But I assure you, it’s not coming for me.”

With a cruel twist of his lips, he stepped into the classroom and shut the door in my face.