Chapter Two

*~°*~°*~°*

Elizabeth

*~°*~°*~°*

Resting my hand against his chest, a feeling of relief washed over me when I discovered he was still breathing.

That counts for something, doesn't it?

When I made a move to undress him, I started feeling fidgety and nervous all over, and I know why.

I've never been this close to a man before. Never ever.

I'm twenty-three and still a virgin. And I'm bound to remain one till I take my last breath. So this feeling should be totally normal. Right?

"Lord, please help me," I muttered to myself before reaching out to undress him. Each button I opened revealed a perfectly sculptured chest and I had to force my eyes back to his face.

This man was incredibly good looking. That was one fact that I couldn't deny, no matter how many voices in my head screamed that I should.

I peeled off his blood-soaked shirt completely and really took my time to look at him. Swallowing, my eyes roamed all over him in fascination. His chest and biceps are all covered in tattoos. The man is literally ink and muscle. All of him. Not an ounce of fat anywhere.

Heat flushes across my cheeks when I realize what I'm doing, and I have to drag my eyes away from him and on the first aid kit.

No distractions, Liz.

"Mister bleeding man," I started off, half to him and half to myself as I bring out all the items I would be needing for this inexperienced surgery. "I've never done this before, okay? Mother Roselyn is usually the one in charge of this kind of stuff, then she appoints someone to work with her." I started cleaning him up to make things easier and smooth for me. "I've never been chosen before, because the last time I was close to a bleeding person, I ended up lying in the sick bed right next to the bleeding victim. Mother Roselyn was furious with me, she called me dramatic because I fainted at the sight of blood."

I looked at him when I was done cleaning to check for signs that he might be listening, but there wasn't. I'm only talking to myself.

Regardless, I spoke up again, "But I promise... I promise to do a better job on you."

Wrapping my hair into a bun, with my hands still shaking all the way, I managed to stitch and bandage him up in places where necessary. My eyes strayed to the clock hanging above my closet and I realized that I've been doing this for over an hour.

Nevertheless, I did it. The stitches might not be so perfect but I really did it. I saved someone's life today.

I'm almost at the verge of crying out joyful tears when I remember I'm stained in blood too. So slowly, I lift myself off from him and step away from the bed.

His chest is rising and falling and that was all the hope that I needed. A lock of hair escaped, resting over his eyebrow and the urge to tuck them back grew with each passing second that I stood there. Shaking myself off from whatever trance I was in, I dropped the first aid kit back in the closet and made my way to the bathroom.

I needed to wash off every sign that I was close to a man... so close to him that I took his shirt off, that I imagined things.

Now I've got so many things to say during confession period.

After I took one good look at him to make sure he's perfectly okay, I hurriedly entered the bathroom and shut the door behind me, locking it like there was any way the unconscious man could break in.

Slowly, I took off my clothes, dropping them into the laundry basket before stepping into the shower.

As each droplet of water trickled down my skin, I start scrubbing, washing every trace of blood on my skin, and every attempt to shut down thoughts about him failed miserably.

Because, I had a thousand questions.

How did he get wounded?

Who shot him?

Was he running from someone... or was he the one behind the chase?

Why did he end up in the cathedral?

If he wakes up, would he remember my face?

Goosebumps rise on my skin as the last thought settles on me and I realize that I don't know if I want him to remember me.

What if he wakes up and gets everything all juggled up?

What if he ends up thinking I'm behind whatever happened to him since I was the only one up at that hour?

No.

No.

No.

Could such a thing happen?

I've heard stories where the good guys end up being framed for something they didn't do. What if I end up in that situation?

I reach up and wipe the tear rolling down my cheeks.

I'm not a murderer, but who would believe me? Not when there's proof of blood on the altar, proof of an unconscious man in my bedroom.

I'm scared. I've never been this scared before even when Mama hits me.

I'm really scared and I have no idea what would happen when he eventually wakes up.

"Lord, I just wanted to help an injured man. Please, let this not come back to bite me," I pleaded to the Almighty, hoping he was listening... hoping I wasn't alone in this.

It took me a total of thirty minutes to be done in the shower and dressed in a plain white nightwear that stopped just right after my knee-the kind of nightwear Mother Roeslyn expected us all to wear. Taking a deep breath again-something I've done quite a lot since today, I reached for the door handle, pulled and let myself out of the bathroom.

I released the breath I didn't realize I had been holding when I see him splayed on my bed, eyes closed and no signs of blood anywhere on my sheets.

I don't know but some part of me expected him to be gone by the time I was out. Seeing him still lying down on my bed unconscious made my nerves calm down a little bit.

I'm not going to lie, I feel so tired and sleepy altogether but I can't lie on the same bed with him.

That would be me going against everything Mother Roselyn taught us, everything a nun was supposed to stand for. So instead of lying on the bed, I walked towards my reading table and sat on the chair-waiting.

Waiting for sleep to take over so when I wake up, I'ld realize that all these is only a dream.

But as I tried to shut my eyes, I caught on to something on the bed, something I didn't notice before when I sat so close to him earlier.

With curiousity poking at me, I walked towards him and then I got a better view. My chest tightened when I saw it...

A gun.

There was a gun underneath him, almost like it slipped out when he slumped on the bed, and I was too blind to notice it.

My heart raced faster than normal as my gaze remained fixed on the weapon in my room.

What sort of man was this?

Who did I just let into my room?

An assassin? A murderer?

"Oh, God..." I slapped a hand over my mouth, suppressing whatever sound trying to crawl its way out of my throat.

What if... what if he killed someone and was only paying for his sins?

What if I saved the wrong person?

I'm still pondering over the numerous thoughts making their way to my head when I hear a loud thud at the door.

My heart skipped a beat.

The knock came again after a few seconds.

"Elizabeth! Open up, now!"

Oh, my. It's Mother Roselyn.

Chapter Three

*~•*•~*•~*

Elizabeth

*~•*•~*~•*

When I finally opened the door, Mother Roselyn stood at the other end, fuming with rage.

"Mother-" I didn't even finish because she cut me off mid-speech.

"Where have you been? I've been calling you for a while now, and don't tell me you didn't hear me screaming your name like I've lost my mind."

I couldn't tell her the truth. She wouldn't believe me. Worse still, the mister was undressed and on my bed. There were so many theories that can be cooked up and I'm very sure none of them would end up in my favour.

"Elizabeth!" she yelled out, trying to look into my room but I blocked her view. She can't look inside not while he's still on my bed.

"Yes, Ma," I answered too quickly, my attention diverted. I hoped she didn't notice that I was shaking.

"Didn't you hear my question? Or have you suddenly gone deaf?"

"I did... I was sleeping. I didn't hear when you called earlier, I'm sorry."

She looked at me like I was another mystery she was trying to uncover.

"You've become way too sneaky these days," she uttered, refusing to leave.

"I'm not... I've been in my room the whole time," I said, choosing my words wisely. Mother Roselyn was always prune to getting angry easily. One word, one slip up and she would be yelling over the place, and threatening me with exorcisms.

"I can never know with you... you know," she murmured. "Is Leah here with you?"

Leah was one of the children who I had grown attached with since my stay at the convent. Sometimes I fed them, sometimes they came to my room to hear bedtime stories, they also sneaked into my room at night when they got too scared of the rain and most of the time, I'm the one who braids Leah's hair so it's expected that when any of the children who am fond of, especially Leah gets missing, my room is always the first prime suspect.

"No, she's not. I slept early today," I lied smoothly.

Another confession to make.

"Your eyes does not look like you've been sleeping at all," she fired back, hinting that she did not believe me at all.

"My eyes?" I repeated, rubbing at them to dissuade whatever doubting thoughts she was having. "You're mistaken ma. I've been asleep for hours now. Remember that's why I didn't hear you earlier."

She gave me a once over look, trying to look inside my room at some point, but I still didn't let her.

Oh, dear Lord, wasn't she going to leave soon?

Apparently not.

"Come with me then. We'll go find her together."

I almost heaved a sigh of relief when she said that, but I didn't because if I did, she'll get the hint that I'm hiding something. And she would probe further, and I know fully well that the outcome wouldn't be good at all.

"Okay," I responded, stepping out of the room and shutting the door behind me.

Her eyes darted from me to my door. I know she wants to say something else, particularly about why I'm being so uptight about my room, but I was glad that she didn't.

We took the stairs, heading downstairs. We both froze when someone screamed loudly,

"MOTHER ROSELYN! OH MY, MOTHER ROSELYN!"

The voice was persistent, like how someone who saw a ghost would scream. Panic clawed at my chest.

I didn't know why, but I was panicking real good.

Mother Roselyn stilled for a bit, trying to detect where the voice was coming from. She only stayed still for a few seconds before she began running down the stairs faster than someone her age should, and I followed suit.

When we got to the exit leading us outside, Sister Maria stood there. Tears rolled down her cheeks, she looked extremely terrified.

"Mother... I think... you should come see this," she managed to utter, the words coming up as gibberish.

"What's going on?" Mother Roselyn asked, following Maria as she led us to whatever had terrified her that much. Maria took us out of the convent, heading towards the cathedral.

It was at that moment my heart began to thump loudly against my chest.

What if she saw the pool of blood? Was that what terrified her?

Would they conduct a search party to check who the blood belonged too?

But to my utmost surprise she wasn't leading us into the cathedral. No, not at all. Instead, she was taking us to the far end of the cathedral, specifically to one of the exit doors, the one I didn't follow when I helped the bleeding man out.

After what seemed like a minute of following Maria, she finally stopped.

Mother Roselyn was the first to scream. Her loud cry erupting into the darkness. I stood there, horrified... frozen for a while until I joined in the screaming.

I couldn't help myself, because on the floor was Father Philip lying in his own pool of blood... out cold and dead.

Holy Mary!

Was that a slash on his neck? I looked closely and it was. There was also an outpour of blood gushing out from his throat.

Oh my God. I placed one hand to my chest and the other over my mouth.

I couldn't breathe... I needed air.

I need air.

Someone killed Father Philips. Right here in the cathedral.

And I think I know who that is.

Oh, Father Lord, I've done something really, really bad. I saved someone I shouldn't have.

"What happened?" Mother Roselyn asked, visibly shaking. "How did he... how did you..."

"You asked that I look for Leah, and that was what I was doing until I stepped outside and I saw someone lying on the floor." Her voice cracked, and she gripped her dress, trying to put herself together. "At first, I thought I wasn't seeing properly because no one is supposed to be out at this hour, but my curiousity had the best of me. And when I came close, I realized..."

She didn't finish, didn't have to because we knew what words would come next.

I hadn't said anything since we got to the spot and I hoped they wouldn't notice.

"What do we do?" Maria asked, her gaze refusing to leave the body.

"We'll have to tell the other priests, we can't handle this ourselves. Come on." Mother Roselyn answered, already turning to leave.

I managed to say the words out, "And me?"

"Go back to the convent and look for Leah." she said, not sparing me another glance.

I nodded too quickly, running back. Not once did I turn back, because I was too engulfed in fear.

One thought stayed on my mind as I ran all the way back to my room -the killer was still in my room.

And I was an accomplice... an accomplice to murder.

Chapter 4

••~••°••~••

Luciano

••~••°••~••

Where the fuck am I?

Certainly not my fucking bed!

My head feels so heavy and it takes everything in me not to yank it off. One moment I'm sending a knife through that fucking priest's throat and the other moment... I'm crawling into the church.

If someone told me I would be anywhere near the altar, I would have called them a fool.

Now look who just crawled into the temple...

I'm still struggling to remember what happened after that, everything just pops up in my head vaguely, leaving more gaps and questions.

Well, for starters, I remember getting shot. Not by the priest by the way. The man was such a weakling that killing him could count as the easiest one I've ever done. So no, he wasn't the one. It was someone else entirely, and before I could draw my attention to whoever it was, they fled like fucking cowards.

Which means I was right earlier. I was being followed. And that's a puzzle I'm willing to solve later.

The real deal is-how did I get here? I'm stitched up alright, but that does not answer the question of what am doing in a room this small, a closet that wouldn't even fit my entire body, a candle, a reading table... Is that the crucifix?

A rosary?

And what else is that?...

Fucking Christ! I just ended up in my worst nightmare.

I run a hand through my hair, frustrated and utterly aware of the pain at my sides. Whoever did the stitching was a complete amateur.

Then, I remember...

There was a woman-strawberry blonde hair, hazel eye colour, and yes... she was wearing... a nun's habit?

I took one good look around my surroundings again, then it dawned on me where I really was.

Shit!

Looking to the side of the bed, something twisted rumbled through my chest when I saw the gun I had with me earlier today. At least she didn't take this from me.

If she brought me here, then where the hell was she? Did she leave the room for me or what?

I'm still checking the room out when I hear footsteps approaching. Survival instincts kicked in and I clutched my gun tightly, ready to pull the trigger at which ever intruder walked in through that door.

Managing to get up, because this is not the first time I've been grazed by a bullet, I walked towards the door, staying by the side, waiting.

The door handle turned, and I lifted my gun, pointing. Whoever was at the other end was surely taking their time to get in, and I've never been a man of patience.

So this is surely getting on my nerves for sure.

For the first time in my life, I waited... waited for the door to open. It did and an unsuspecting woman in a white night dress slipped in, shutting the door behind her.

I didn't wait for her.

She didn't see me, because I stood at the other side of the door, so technically I'm standing behind her. I notice her eyes widen when she looked at the bed. A knowing grin creeped up my face and I knew she was looking for me.

Enough of the cat and mouse game.

She took a step forward, and I pulled her towards me, maneuvering our position in such a way that I had her pinned against the wall, and my bare chest pressing against her.

When she noticed who I was, realized that I was now awake, she tried to scream but I was fast... faster than she could ever be.

I raised my hand to her mouth, suppressing whatever noise that would have filled my ears if I didn't.

"Do not make a sound," I warned her, raising the gun to the side of her head, pressing the barrel against her head. She gasped, eyes widening in fear-shock too perhaps, a tear rolling down her cheek but I caught it quickly, wiping it off.

She was terrified. Good.

You would be impressed by what people do when they let fear take over them.

"I'll take my hands off your lips, but first you have to promise me one thing," I started by saying, studying her face for any form of foul play. She was clean.

Just an ordinary nun.

She nodded too quickly, another tear rolling down her cheek.

Fuck! Why won't she stop crying?

I hate being close to women when they're shedding tears. It's not something that has ever gone down well with me.

Now I'm here, up close with one that looks like she might collapse in my hands.

"You won't make a sound, okay? You'll be quiet... be obedient and do whatever I ask you to do. And if you don't... I'll kill you." I use my hand to dramatize the killing part, to make the threat more effective. "Then I'll kill the rest of the women here. And you'll go to hell with their blood on your hands. Is that what you want, angel?"

She shook her head as quickly as before.

"Good girl."

Then I slowly take my hand off her mouth, leaving my gun pressed to her head, waiting for the slightest noise so I can fulfill my threat to her. But just as I had expected, she didn't make a noise.

Her eyes were fixed on mine, but the terror in them was unmistakable.

With our eyes fixated on each other, I take my time to study her closely. My earlier descriptions of her were correct.

Strawberry blonde hair.

Hazel eyes.

Pink lush lips that were made to do something else other than recite holy prayers.

I quickly push that thought aside.

She's a fucking nun... a terrified one for that matter.

We're so close to each other that her breasts are all up in my business. Even with the plain ugly nightdress, I know too well that she's got big round tits. Don't ask me how I know. I just do. Because they're pressing into my chest.

And with every little inhale and exhale she does, her chest rises and her tits jiggle a bit.

Reluctantly, I drag my eyes back to her face. She's beautiful... not the the type you say to women just to compliment them. No.

I really mean this one.

She's fucking pretty... too pretty to be tied up inside here. I'm guessing that's why they hid her in a convent, because she's definitely not safe out there.

So they hid her...

Especially from men like me.

I didn't expect nuns to be this pretty. I usually imagined them to have ugly wrinkled faces that no man would dare to look at them, making it easier for them to stick to their vows in peace.

But this one?

This one was everything my imagination didn't think about.

She let out a little whimper, halting my dirty thoughts about her.

"A-are you going to kill me?" she asked in a little angelic voice that leads the blood in my veins all the way to my cock.

I'm tempted... I'm fucking tempted to grind against her, but I force myself to pay attention.

"Did you stitch me up?" I asked, which was definitely not what I wanted to do.

But this is life, and in life we don't really get what we want always.

She nodded before answering, "Yes... I'm sorry."

Sorry?

Sorry for what exactly?

I nearly slap a hand against my face to contain my frustration and confusion.

"You brought me up here?"

"Yes."

"Then no, angel. I'm not going to kill you."

She heaved a sigh of relief, but her eyes and body told me she was still terrified. Reluctantly, I pulled myself off from her. I might not be a saint or into church affairs, but I know what happens when a man is found alone with a nun.

Honestly, I don't care who sees us. I'll just shoot their heads off the moment it happens.

The only reason I move away from her is because I'm badly injured and if the one who shot at me makes his way here, I wouldn't be able to defend us both.

"Turn around. Eyes on the wall," I ordered, and she obeyed immediately, not asking questions.

She was really scared for sure.

And when she turned, I nearly groaned out loud.

Her ass... Shit! Fuck! They're to die for.

Big, Round, and Curvy.

They're definitely not supposed to be in that ugly dress.

My eyes trail from her ass upwards, while I took steps away from her.

My body protesting with each step that I took. And when I got to the window, I stopped, taking one more good look at her.

Then it struck me immediately-this is defintely not the last time I'll see her, because she just triggered my interest.

So she can cling to her vows all she wants, I'll break them one by one.

With that thought in mind, I jumped through the window.