Lust Is the Thorn

by Jen McLaughlin

  I understood that more than she’d ever know. There were so many things I wished I could go back and change. The drugs. The sex. The way Mikey had died, and my role in it. The boy I’d been, before I became the man I was now. I would change that boy in two seconds flat, given the chance. I would change me. Make me better.

  Maybe it was time to tell her the truth. If that didn’t make her stay away from me, hate me, then nothing would.

  “Stop looking so worried.” She tugged her wet shirt down more with her good hand. It did nothing to assuage the need I felt for her. It was a big, gaping, festering wound inside me. “I’m fine. You’re fine. You didn’t break any rules. It’s all good, priest.”

  I swallowed hard, trying my best not to focus on the fact that my body was begging for release, and grabbed a towel. I gently draped it over her, more to cover her than anything else. Her nipples were still hard, and it was killing me. “But that shouldn’t have happened, for more reasons than one.”

  She eyed my clerical collar. “I know the obvious, but what’s the other reason?”

  “Mikey. There’s something you should know—”

  She rolled her eyes. “In case you didn’t notice, he’s dead. He’s no longer here to kick your ass for touching me, and more than likely? He wouldn’t have given a damn, anyway. He accepted the fact that I was a girl, and that boys liked me, a hell of a lot easier than you did.”

  Okay, she had a point there. A small one. “But I need to tell you—”

  “No.” She held up her good hand. “Just shut up. Like I told you, I don’t do regrets. You shouldn’t, either. But I respect your desire to hold firm to your beliefs, and the second we walk out of this room, we can pretend this never happened. I’m sure we can both agree not to mention this small event again, and we’re adult enough to make that happen. To forget you ever watched me like that—because that’s all that happened. It’s not like we had sex, or any naked body parts touched. You just watched.”

  I swallowed. “You could forget it happened?” I adjusted my pants and rebuttoned them. “That easily?”

  “It’s not as if it’s something that memorable.” She gave me a quick, appraising glance. “It was just me touching myself. I do it in the bath all the time.”

  I did not need to know that. “Right,” I said, my voice thick with unanswered need. “Of course you do.”

  She tugged the towel closed, all bright blue eyes, wet brown hair, and piercings. “Are we cool?”

  “Yeah. We’re cool.”

  “Good.” She stepped over the side of the dirty white tub and headed for the door. “I’m going to find my bag, grab some clothes, and get dressed. Thanks for the, uh, bath.”

  Despite her words and her devil-may-care attitude, I sensed she was putting on an act. That what happened between us wasn’t something she could just sweep under the rug. It certainly wasn’t for me. “Yeah, I’m going to finish up in here.”

  Her focus drifted down to my still rock-hard erection. “Need any help?”

  “Rose.”

  “Right. Sorry. Inappropriate.” She blushed and cleared her throat. “I’ll go now and leave you to…well, you know. Clean up.”

  The door shut behind her and I sagged against the wall. My clothes were wet and cold, but it didn’t cool me off. Nothing would. Trembling, I dried off my hands and reached for my phone. Swiping my finger across the screen, I frowned down at it. The missed call had been from Father John. I hit the callback button and lifted the phone to my ear. He picked up on the second ring.

  “Father? It’s me, Thorn.”

  “Ah, yes.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry if I interrupted anything, but I was just calling to let you know there’s a wine cellar in the basement. Feel free to help yourselves to whatever you’d like. I don’t touch the stuff when I’m home.”

  “Thank you.” I glared at myself in the mirror. I was…haggard. Harder. Different. Like the boy I used to be. The one who didn’t give a damn about anyone but himself. “That’s very kind of you, Father.”

  “How’s Rose?” he asked slowly.

  “Good. Great. Awesome. She’s getting changed now.”

  “I see.” He paused. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Of course. I just—” I dragged a hand through my hair, still glowering at myself in the mirror. There was no point in hiding it. I would have to tell him eventually. “I had a moment of weakness, is all.”

  “Ah.” A squeaking sound came through the phone. I could picture Father John leaning back in his chair as clearly as if I were sitting there in front of him. “You and Rose have a lot of history together. Correct?”

  I rubbed my jaw. “Yes. A lot.”

  “Well, it’s only natural that such things would occur. That’s why we encourage seminarians to stay close to campus. When you take two people who care about each other and put them together, old feelings are bound to get stirred up.”

  “I…yeah. I guess so.”

  “You know where I am if you need to confess, or guidance of any sort.” He hesitated. “Did the two of you…?”

  “No. But it was close.” I dropped back against the wall. “I’m sorry, Father.”

  “Don’t apologize to me.” He let out a breath, and the chair squeaked again. “You haven’t taken your vows yet, even though you could. I think we both know what’s holding you back.”

  I swallowed hard. “Yeah. You might be right.”

  “Take some time to think things over. Figure out what you want. Rushing into something, one way or the other, will do no good for you, or the church, or your Rose. If this isn’t something you’re one hundred percent committed to, it’s not the life for you, and that’s okay. Plenty of candidates change their minds before taking any vows. It’s better now than later, as we always say. At least you graduated with a degree you can use.”

  “But I know what I want.” I gritted my teeth. I’d made promises I wouldn’t break, and I couldn’t stop now. My path was carved out for me, and had been since I’d killed my best friend with my careless selfishness. “I’ve worked for it for years. I’ve planned on—”

  “The funny thing about plans? Sometimes they’re simply detours to get us where we need to be. Where God wants us to be.” He let out a small laugh. “I’d know that better than most.”

  I blinked. “Did you have a hard time committing, too?”

  “No. But you see, son, I’ve never been in love. Not the type of love that bonds a man and a woman together.” He sighed. “That’s not something I even remotely understand. Love is another type of holy blessing, one not to be taken lightly.”

  I stiffened. “I don’t love her. Romantically, I mean. She’s just…I just…we’re close. That’s all.”

  “Call it what you’d like, I’m not here to judge you. And if you don’t love her, your path should be pretty clear.”

  “It is. I know what I want.”

  “Great. I’m glad to hear it. But still…use this opportunity to be sure. You don’t want to have regrets for the rest of your life. That’s no way to start your life with God.”

  “I know. That’s why I tried to tell her the truth about that night.”

  Father John whistled through his teeth. “Tried?”

  “Yeah. She cut me off and told me to shut up.” I rubbed my forehead. “But I need to tell her. I think that’s what’s holding me back. My need for her to know, and my desire for her forgiveness.”

  “Son…” Father sighed. “I hope she will give it. Keep in mind, when you tell her you were the one behind the wheel that night, and not her brother…she might hate you. Even if it’s just for a little bit. But anger is natural….She might come around, in time. She might understand.”

  No, she wouldn’t. And that was okay. I didn’t deserve forgiveness. If she hated me like I hated myself, maybe I could move on. Maybe after being honest with her, even without her forgiveness, I could accept the next step in my life: saving the lives of others like me, finding the lost souls that called for help.
“I know. But it needs to be done.”

  “The truth is always freeing, even if it hurts at first.” He cleared his throat. “Oh, and about that position you inquired about? I contacted the office manager and should hear back soon. I’ll let you know once I do.”

  “Thank you, Father.”

  “Anytime, son.” I heard a muffled sound, and him speaking to someone. Within seconds, he was back on the line. “I have to go. But like I said, I’m here for you if you need absolution, or an advisor, or just someone to talk to afterward.”

  I nodded once. “Thanks.”

  We hung up, and I stripped my clothes off and turned the shower on. As I stood under the water, letting the liquid wash away all traces of Rose and what we’d done, the night I’d decided to become a priest replayed in my mind. The alcohol we drank. The drugs we smoked, before Mikey passed out. The hot-wired car. The screeching tires.

  The blood…

  There had been so much blood.

  Mikey had died in my arms, and that night, I swore to change my life. To do better. To never hurt another person like I hurt him. No matter what happened, I couldn’t waver from my course. I couldn’t give in to my needs and be selfish. I’d been that guy before, and I’d killed my best friend. I wouldn’t ruin his little sister, too, and do his memory even more of an injustice. I wouldn’t drag her down into hell with me.

  That was a trip for me, and me alone.

  Chapter 6

  Rose

  “Are you for real?” my friend screeched into the phone.

  I flinched and laughed lightly. “Yeah, I’m really at a fancy lake house—no, scratch that. Fancy lake mansion.” I rolled onto my back on the bed, staring up at the painted ceiling. It was light blue. “That’s where my friend took me.”

  “The priest?”

  I sighed. “The almost-priest.”

  “Right.” Grace laughed. “Same thing.”

  But it wasn’t. If Thorn were an actual priest, what we’d done in the bath would never have happened, thank you very much. Even I had to draw the line somewhere. “Could I ask you a favor?”

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  “You still have a storage unit, right?” I played with a piece of my hair. “For when you get out of Kitty Kat’s?”

  “Yeah.” Grace laughed lightly, but there was a hard edge to it. “As if that’s ever going to happen.”

  “It will,” I said, my tone even. “You’ll be out soon.”

  “Not everyone can be beaten up and swept away by a priest, Rose.”

  I stiffened. “You make it sound like a good thing.”

  “It’s not. But at the same time…” Grace sighed again. “It got you out, and into a fancy lake house, didn’t it?”

  I swallowed and glanced at the opulent room that surrounded me. “Has he been back? That guy?”

  “Yeah. He’s been spotted hanging around outside, since he knows he’ll be busted if he comes inside, and we’ve called the cops on him, but he always slinks away like the snake he is. We think he’s looking for you.”

  I sat up, my heart lurching. “He doesn’t know my name or anything, right?”

  “Of course not.” Grace clucked her tongue. “We’d never tell him that, and you know it.”

  “Right,” I said weakly. Even though I didn’t want to be scared of that asshole…I was. And I didn’t like that. “Thanks.”

  “So what’s your favor?”

  I pushed my hair out of my face. It had taken me fifteen minutes to get all the knots out. “I’m sure they’re going to give my room away, since I’m gone, so I was wondering—”

  “They already gave it away. It was gone within ten hours, and the new girl’s a major bitch.” She snorted daintily. “But don’t worry, I got you. Your stuff is in my storage unit. Manny helped me transport it early this morning.”

  I closed my eyes in relief. I didn’t have much, but what I had, I didn’t want to lose. “Thanks, Grace. I really appreciate that. I can pay half the bill for this month.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You just focus on getting better.”

  “Thanks, Grace.” I smiled. “But I insist on paying half. It’s the least I can do.”

  “You have money?”

  I flinched. “I will.”

  “Fine, then if you insist, pay me back later. After you have it.” A rustling sound hit the phone as Grace said something to someone else, then pulled the phone back. “Look, I have to go. But stay safe, and watch out for that asshole.”

  “I will.” I bit my lip. “You be careful, too.”

  “Always.”

  The call ended, and I stared down at the phone. I couldn’t help but worry that what had happened to me could just as easily happen to them. If only I could wrap all the girls in my arms and drag them away. Bring them here.

  To safety.

  But I couldn’t, because life doesn’t work that way.

  Sighing, I tossed my phone on the bed and tiptoed down the stairs, dressed in the unsexiest clothing I owned, and pressed a hand to my chest. I ached to open up that pack of smokes I had snuck into my bag and take just one puff. After that orgasm, and the way Thorn had acted afterward…God, I needed it. So badly. What we’d done had been exhilarating. After that man assaulted me last night and tried to force himself on me, I’d felt so powerless. Being with Thorn had given me back my sense of control.

  I was me again. It had been exactly what I needed….

  Even if he regretted it.

  That’s something I will never understand. Regretting something. What is the point? What good does it do? My life wasn’t all that great. If you had to rate it on a scale of one to ten, with one being the best and ten being the worst, it would be a hundred. Easily. But I didn’t sit around and cry over the cards I was dealt.

  Life was life, and it was hard, and most of the time, it sucked.

  So why bother bemoaning the fact that I had been given a father who gave me my first beating before I could run away? Crying and wishing for a better life wouldn’t turn back time and give me a dad who taught me how to ride a bike instead of how to hide in a closet. It wouldn’t make my life be bright and happy, or give me a big house like this to live in. It wouldn’t change a damn thing.

  I was me, and this was the life I was given.

  End of story.

  I tugged on my sweatshirt self-consciously as I approached the kitchen. It had been a bitch getting my aching splinted arm through the sleeve without Thorn’s help, but I’d managed to do it. The last thing I would be doing after that little incident in the bathroom would be asking him to help me put on my shirt, thank you very much.

  He clearly didn’t want to want me, so I’d do my best to pretend he never watched me come with so much hunger in his eyes he could have eaten me up whole in one bite. I would keep my hands to myself, and go back to being the girl who assumed he didn’t want her. To help on that front, I opted for a pair of gray sweats and a hoodie, trying my best to not remind him of what we’d just done in the bath.

  Covering up as much skin as possible.

  I rounded the corner, taking in my surroundings. I’d been walking for one minute, and I still wasn’t in the kitchen yet. This house was huge. Bigger than anything I’d ever seen before. My apartment with Keith had been about the size of the bathroom where I almost ruined Thorn.

  I lived there for a month before leaving that guy behind.

  Here, lush decorations hung on all the walls, precisely placed at three-foot intervals, and the comforter on my bed was made of the softest cotton I’d ever touched. It was like butter. And the water had stayed hot during the whole bath. This place was heaven. A dream. I mean, sure, I had no idea what I was going to do after this, or where I was going to go, and I had a sprained wrist and no home, so my choices were kind of limited. There weren’t a whole lot of jobs I could do with one good arm, and my dancing career was clearly over, since I had no desire to go back to it. Waitressing with a bum arm was out of the question for now, so…yeah.<
br />
  I might end up on the streets again.

  But for now, I had this. I had Thorn. And I wasn’t going to waste the short time I had in this paradise worrying about what came next.

  It wasn’t my style.

  Smiling, I stopped in front of a glass vase that had to be straight out of the Ming Dynasty. I reached out a finger and touched it, tracing a line of red that swirled through it. It was soft. Smooth. Cold. Beautiful. Something a girl like me never should have been near. And yet, here I was. Touching it.

  It’s weird how life works like that.

  This week, I was touching an expensive vase and living in a mansion, but next week, I would more than likely be sleeping under newspaper or cardboard boxes. But whatever. The freezing streets were still better than going back to my parents’ house—if they’d even let me come back.

  Which they probably wouldn’t.

  All I ever was to them was a punching bag, or a way to score welfare and food stamps. Once I wasn’t a minor anymore, I lost my usefulness. They told me to start paying rent or get out. Seeing as how I had been punched the night before—on my eighteenth birthday—for no reason other than existing…

  I’d gotten out.

  And I’d never looked back.

  There was no Prince Charming in my story who would ride in, sweep me into his arms, and take me away to a happy, bright life. One with four walls, a bed, and a warm dinner every night, where no one told me I was worthless. That wasn’t my life. That wasn’t me. I wasn’t a preppy little Cinderella girl, and no one would be rescuing me. I was just…me. Rose Gallagher. I would be all right.

  I always was.

  Fighters like me didn’t go down easily.

  Hugging myself with my one good arm, I went around the corner of the foyer, which finally led into the kitchen. Plates were laid on the countertop, so I knew Thorn was in there, probably making lunch, like he’d planned on doing earlier. Before we…well, before I’d orgasmed in front of him.

  And, God, what an orgasm it had been.