Billionaire’s Sins by L. Steele

19

Ava

"Nobody’s asking you to give up your faith, only your vocation." I tip up my chin. I wish I could be selfless enough to tell him that it doesn’t matter, that I don’t expect him to turn his back on his life’s work, his ideals, his love and devotion for the One Above; but I’m only a woman. A flawed—and now morally corrupt woman, since I’d seduced a priest. OMG, I had, hadn’t I? Add that to the list of my sins, as well—along with being selfish enough to want him for myself. Is it right to wish that he’d belong only to me? That he’d turn away from the One who’s occupied his life and his thoughts for so long and give all his attention solely to me? Is it right to want to take him away from his flock, his people, the ones he’d, no doubt, helped heal along their life’s journeys, as well?

Is it right for me to be this selfish, to want him for myself? Will he allow me to be this self-centered? Does it even matter what I want, when clearly, he’s already made up his mind?

"Tell me, Edward," I insist, "why can’t you, for once, think only of yourself?"

"Because I can’t." He drags his fingers through his hair. "After the incident, I was on a journey of self-destruction. From the age of twelve when I was kidnapped to nearly nineteen, I hung out with the rest of the Seven, and yet in many ways, I wasn’t one of them. They liked to get drunk and take part in fights they organized, first on our school grounds, and later, in a deserted parking lot outside London. They were good at it though… Me? I was into a different kind of self-destruction."

He glances at me, then away, and begins to pace.

"What…what kind?" I sit back down on the bed, watch him as he walks to the window, glances out, then grips the edge of the windowsill. "Drugs, sex, getting into fights where none of the Seven were around to back me up," his voice tapers off.

"So, you were trying to hurt yourself?"

He turns to glance at me over his shoulder. "I did a damn good job of it, too. By rights, I should have ended up dead, or worse," he grimaces, "if it weren’t for Baron."

"Baron?" I scowl. "The missing one of the Seven?"

"Oh, he isn’t missing. He chooses to stay away."

"Why is that?"

"It’s the only way he could cope with what had become of him, of us, I suppose." He raises his shoulders. "Who knows what went on in that mind of his? If the rest of us were trying to hurt ourselves, Baron took it a step further."

"What do you mean?"

"While I was dabbling with ways to cause myself pain so I could forget what had happened to me, Baron was… Let’s just say, his appetite for self-destruction was more vicious than mine."

"How’s that?"

He turns to face me. "He took risks with his life. Not only was he a brilliant hacker, but he was also into extreme sports. He loved adventure sports, training for the kinds of expeditions from which coming back alive is not certain. He kept pushing himself, challenging himself at every turn, and that was only the tip of what he told us."

"And you know this, how?"

"While I was imploding inside, Baron was challenging himself, pushing himself to see how far he could go before he could die, if that makes sense." He widens his stance. "In some ways, it made him the most clear-headed of all of us Seven. Which is why he’s the one who found me one night in a drug den, shot out of my skull, OD’d, and perhaps a breath away from dying."

"So, he found you and saved you that day?"

"That’s one way of putting it." He chuckles. "He gave me holy hell when I regained consciousness in the hospital. It's Baron who checked me into a retreat. A very expensive sober living place, paid for by my family’s money, of course."

"Of course," I say dryly. What little I know about the Seven points to the behavior that they make sure they always get their money’s worth out of deals. Still, it was fair, I suppose. Baron came to his friend's’ rescue and took the very important step of having him checked into a treatment facility. Then, in a strike of poetic justice, he made sure Edward paid for it out of his own pocket. Well, why not? It’s one way of ensuring he felt the consequences of his actions, right?

"Like I said, I owe my life to him."

"And you’re telling this to me, why?"

He raises his chin and fixes me with that stern glare that has my panties going damp at once. Hell, why is it that he can turn me on by just looking at me?

One side of his lips twists as if he’s aware of exactly what I’m thinking, then he rotates his shoulders and cracks his neck. The sound shudders across the space, sinks into my blood, coils down into the space between my legs, which is already empty and wet and throbbing and— I turn away from him. "What is it you are trying to say, Ed?" I ask again.

"That when I was at my lowest, in the drug-filled haze, and fighting between life and death in the hospital, I had a vision."

"The proverbial light at the end of the long tunnel?" I say, only half-joking.

"Yes," he replies, all amusement wiped from his face. "I know I was dead when he found me. I know I stayed in that dead space for an hour before they revived me at the hospital. When I opened my eyes, I knew what I had to do."

"To become a priest," I say dully.

He nods. "Whatever I felt in that time… And it felt like I had journeyed to the depths of time. I felt like I had been gone much longer, you know… And it wasn’t anything I saw or felt or heard… It was just a realization that I woke up with. A sense of peace, of contentment, even; something I’d never felt in the years since the incident, maybe even earlier. It was that complete rightness of it that led me to joining the seminary."

"So, you felt a divine calling and you made your choice?"

"You’re not listening," he snaps. "It was not a choice. It was an awareness. I woke up one day and it was simply there, and I never questioned it."

"Not even now?" I take a step toward him. "When this—realization between us too is just there. It’s not what you or I asked for. It’s simply a connection, a state of being, something I don’t even question—" He raises his hand, but I continue, "And neither do you. I know it; don’t deny it."

"It is there," He narrows his gaze on me. "I can’t deny it. But I also cannot embrace it."

"No, no, no." I shake my head. My heart begins to thud. A hole opens up in my stomach, grows bigger, begins to swallow me. This can’t be happening, it can’t. "No." I hear myself say the word aloud as if trying to deny what I sense is coming. What I know he’s going to do and which I hate with every fiber in my body, and yet, I am powerless to stop, damn him.

"Listen to me." He takes a step forward and I skitter back.

"Don’t say it, don’t," I beg him. "Don’t do it."

"I have to."

"Please, give us a chance."

"You don’t know what you are asking."

"Oh, believe me, I do." I dig my heels into the floor, lock my fingers together, "I know exactly what I am asking of you, and if you deny it, I know it’s going to make you hate yourself for life."

"Not more than I already do." His lips twist. "I am so sorry, Ava, but this is how it has to be."

"It doesn’t. You can change it. You have the power to do it."

"The only one with the power is Him." He jerks his chin upward. "I am but His servant, His to command."

"I am yours to command," I choke out the words. "Doesn’t that mean anything to you?"

He winces. "It does. It means far too much, and that’s the problem." He peers into my face, "Don’t you see that?"

"The only thing I see is a coward who can’t face the truth, who can’t see what’s right there in front of him, who refuses to acknowledge the reality of his situation."

"Which is?"

"That you don’t belong to Him anymore. You may deny it all you want, but you’re mine now Edward, and nothing can change that."

"Except me." He draws himself up to his full height. "I deny it, I deny you. I don’t want you. I choose Him over you."

"No." I shake my head.

"Yes." He says it with a tone of finality. "Yes."

"Don’t do it."

"It’s done." He folds his arms across his chest.

"This is it then?"

"It would seem that way."

My chin wobbles, my hands and legs shake, and a hot sensation stabs at my chest. My knees tremble and I fold my fingers at my sides. "So, this is goodbye?"

His features shutter and his lips firm. He watches me with that detached expression on his face that I hate so much. The one which indicates that I have already lost him. So why am I still standing here?

Turning, I head for the door.

"Ava"

My heart stutters and hope blooms in my chest.

I turn to find him holding out my handbag, "Don’t forget this."

I swallow down the emotion that surges up my throat, march toward him, snatch up my bag. "I hate the day I set eyes on you. I hate that He brought you into my life" I say in a low tone. "One day...one day you are going to realize that the choice you made here was all wrong, but by then, it’s going to be too late."

Turning, I walk out.