Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry.”
He nodded. “I took some time off. My parents pushed me to go back to college. I needed something to focus on. They wanted me to study finance and work in the family business. We settled on a degree in music because I couldn’t imagine not having it be a big part of my life. Later realized I was good at teaching musical composition, so kept going until I finished my doctorate.” He lifted the beer bottle and tilted it to me before bringing it to his lips. “And here I am.”
“And here you are.” I smiled. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”
The moment was interrupted when Al yelled from the bar. “You’re all closed out, Rachel.”
I turned and waved. “Thanks, Al.”
“You’re done for the night?” Caine asked.
“Yep. Do you want me to get you another beer?”
“No, thanks. I should get going.”
I was disappointed, even after a long day of teaching and working a full shift on my feet.
After I said goodnight to Al, Caine walked me to my car. He opened the door so I could get in and held on to the top.
“By the way, Professor Clarence was the topic of my faculty meeting today.”
We’d never spoken about it, and I wasn’t sure if he knew I’d been his teaching assistant last year.
“He was such a good person. I worked for him last year.”
“I heard that. Your name was mentioned, actually, along with another student’s. You both had him as faculty advisor for your thesis.”
I nodded. “He helped me pick my topic. It was a subject near to his heart.”
“You haven’t found a faculty member to replace him as your advisor yet?”
“No. Not yet. I need to get on that.”
“I’ll take you on, if you want.”
The surprises kept coming tonight. “You will?”
“Think about it.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
Caine shut my door and waited for me to start the car. As I pulled away from the curb, I waved one last time and thought to myself, I have a new advisor.
Caine
Fifteen years ago
What the fuck am I thinking?
I sat waiting in the quiet confessional, not even stoned this week. It was almost one o’clock, and Liam was long gone—like I should’ve been. We’d finished our last day of volunteering an hour ago and yet…here I was, waiting for a little girl who had enough trouble at home and sure as shit didn’t need my ass pretending to be a priest to add to her problems.
But I couldn’t not show up.
I had no idea why I’d told the little girl to come back this week to begin with.
Actually, that’s a crock of shit. The reason had played over and over in my mind every night before I went to bed. I couldn’t get her little voice out of my head.
Sometimes he falls asleep on the couch with a cigarette in his hand, and I think about not putting it out and letting the house go on fire. That was her confession.
I wasn’t even positive if thinking about letting someone hurt himself was a sin. But I wasn’t going to let this poor little girl feel guilty over wanting someone who I suspected wasn’t a good guy to get hurt. Fuck that shit.
I also needed to know what the asshole was doing to make an innocent little girl have those types of thoughts. She should’ve been thinking about ponies and unicorns, not her house catching on fire. My mind automatically thought the worst.
I was just about to give up—and light up on the way home to clear my head of the shit running through it—when the door creaked open on the other side.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” she whispered.
“Didn’t we talk about this last week? You aren’t sinning by thinking bad thoughts. You’d have to act on them to sin.”
Of course, that wasn’t true necessarily—the Catholic Church had some screwy rules—but it was the only thing I could do to take some of the weight off her shoulders right now.
“Alright.”
I knew from last week that she was skittish on sharing. I’d need to gain her trust if she was going to let me in on whatever was going on at home. So, I started her talking about the first thing I could think of.
“How was school this week? Do you like your teacher?”
“It was okay. I don’t mind my teacher so much, but Tommy, who sits next to me, is gross. He always has his hand down his pants.”
Somehow I managed not to laugh. Don’t we all. “You should keep away from him. He sounds like trouble.”
“He always smiles at me.”
“Yeah. He’s no good. What grade are you in?”
“Fourth.”
I’d guessed right. She had to be about ten.
“Did you tell your mother about him?”
She was quiet for a long time before responding. “My mother died last year.”
Shit. I’d been afraid there was no woman in the picture, for some reason. “I’m very sorry to hear that.” I paused then added, “She’s in Heaven now. It’s a nice place.”