Sinful Purity (Sinful Series)

by K. A. Standen

  I tried to find my words so that I could explain to Caleb. “Z…Z…Zack,” I sobbed. I took a couple more deep breaths and then tried again. “He hates the church.”

  “Liz, he just doesn’t understand it.” Caleb rubbed my shoulder as he tried to lift me from the soggy corner to the bed.

  “Father talked to me tonight.”

  “What? Is that what started all this?”

  “Yes. He said that if he met Zack, then maybe he could forgive me.”

  “What did Zack say?”

  “I think you heard what Zack said.” I rolled my eyes as I blotted tears from my cheeks.

  “Liz, Zack isn’t the first to loathe St. Matthew’s. I know that they have a lot of prestigious advocates, but they have equally as many enemies.”

  “What?” I gasped.

  “That’s why my family is always fighting. St. Matthew’s divides us,” Caleb confided.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t fully understand, either. All I know is that my dad hated his dad’s devotion to St. Matthew’s. If you think I’m rebellious, you should have seen my dad when he was younger. He’d complain that my grandfather was a different person around St. Matthew’s—moodier, more judgmental. With his ‘holier than thou attitude,’ my dad would say. So when he was old enough, he married my mom and took off. When I was younger we lived in Washington state, far from St. Matthew’s reach. But when I got older, my dad and grandfather made some sort of a deal and we moved back. Ever since, my dad and I are replaying the roles he and his dad set up. I think my dad’s all moody and unreasonable. He thinks I am acting out my youth, waiting for me to ‘take responsibility like a Price.’ I hate it. It’s all a little too weird for me. Frankly, when we’re away from here for any length of time, like on vacation or something, we all get along great. When we come home and start going back to St. Matthew’s, it’s like World War III at our house.”

  “I don’t understand. Why don’t you and your family just leave or move?” I asked, like the solution was so simple.

  “It’s my grandfather and his hold on my dad. It’s St. Matthew’s hold on him. The loyalty clause plays into it. I don’t know it all. It’s complicated.” Caleb hung his head in defeat.

  “The loyalty clause can span generations?” I asked with amazement and fear.

  “It seems that way.”

  When Zack never returned, Caleb drove me back to my dorm. The next day Zack skipped his classes with me. Caleb said he hadn’t seen him, either. I was lost in a downward-spiraling depression. I needed to talk to Zack but he was nowhere to be found.

  Wednesday he wasn’t in class again. I didn’t know how long this would go on. I walked to St. Matthew’s for evening Mass and confession. I knew that Monsignor would ask me about Zack’s decision. I didn’t know what to tell him. As I walked, I contemplated. I decided I would deal with it when the moment arose and not before. After all, Zack could change his mind, although I knew it wouldn’t be likely.

  When it was time for confession, I stepped into the confessional and there sat Monsignor Brennigan. He did not get up and leave; instead he heard my confession all the way through, and at the end he gave me absolution. I kissed his ring respectfully and took my seat in the pew next to Sister Christine. She looked as disapproving as ever, but her face hinted at something more. After the last few sleepless nights without Zack, the murkiness returned to my mind, leaving me in a haze.

  After Mass I exited through St. Matthew’s massive front doors. Waiting for me were Lucy and Caleb.

  “We thought ya could use a ride home.” Lucy’s voice was upbeat. I knew Caleb had told her about what happened with Zack.

  “Thanks, you guys. I appreciate it.” I hugged them both before climbing into the back seat.

  I was quiet the whole way home, lost in my fog. Lucy did most of the talking, like always. Caleb listened intently, like a doting boyfriend. I sat motionless, trying to forget the void where my heart used to be. We pulled up to St. Augustine and they let me out. It seemed like it was date night for them, so they were going out. I walked slowly and sullenly up to my room and put myself to bed alone again.

  Thursday night when I got back to my room after another night of holy chores, I plopped down on my bed, unwilling to budge. The desperation and loneliness of my broken heart took over, squelching my will to go on. Then the tears came, followed by the relentless sobbing. I fell over and smashed my face into the pillow, trying to muffle the sounds of my unearthly sorrow. Next thing I knew, the phone was ringing. At first I didn’t want to answer. I didn’t have the energy or desire to talk to anyone. I just wanted to be left alone to die a slow, painful, emotional death. Then I thought, What if it’s Zack? I leaped to my feet and picked up the receiver.

  “Hello?” My voice was horse and raspy from crying.

  “Liz? Are you okay? You sound like hell.” Kelly’s voice rang in my ears.

  “Yeah, I’m fine, Kell,” I answered with a sniff. My nose was stuffy from crying.

  “Don’t tell me. Is it guy trouble?”

  “Yeah, something like that,” I admitted rubbing the leftover tears from my eyes.

  “Well, isn’t it always. Men are only good for two things, trouble and trouble.” Kelly’s laugh echoed.

  “What?” I asked, confused. “That sounds like one thing.”

  “No, silly. There’s the good trouble and the bad trouble, both of which are men’s specialties. Personally, I prefer the good kind of trouble.” She let out a wicked giggle.

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “What would you know about trouble, my dear innocent Lizzie?” Kelly snickered.

  “More than I should, I guess.” Sadness filled my voice again as I fought to choke back the pain and tears. “Can we talk about this later, Kell? Now is not the best time for me.”

  “Yeah, sure. Just call me whenever, okay, Liz?” Kelly sounded disappointed, but I knew she understood.

  “All right. Bye, Kell.” I hung up the phone. A moment later my knees buckled and I slid down the wall onto the floor, my tear-soaked hands cupping my face. I sat there like that for most of the night. This was one heartbreak I was not going to shake off easily.

  It was Friday before I saw Zack again. He finally showed up to class. I approached him slowly, cautiously. I feared the power he had over me. I knew he could crush me emotionally with one word.

  “Zack, can we talk later?” I asked, faint hope clinging to each word.

  “Is it about him?” Zack snapped.

  “Please, Zack, not here. Come over tonight, okay?”

  Zack nodded but then took a seat up front with some of his old friends. He’d left me sitting by myself on purpose and I knew it. He was trying to hurt me and was doing a damn good job of it.

  It was almost eight by the time Zack knocked on my door. I had started to give up hope of him showing up. I thought he had changed his mind, that he was still too angry to see me. I took a deep breath, put the best smile I could muster on my face, and opened the door.

  “Hi, Zack,” I said weakly.

  “Hello, Liz.” His voice was cold but not altogether unkind.

  “Look, Zack. I really need to talk to you.”

  “Is it about your church?”

  “Not all of it.”

  “Then I don’t want to hear any of it, Liz,” he snapped.

  “Zack, he only wants to meet you,” I pleaded.

  “Your precious Father Brennigan wants to meet me?” he asked snidely. I hated when he acted like this.

  “Yes. Maybe if he meets you, he’ll approve of us. It would make it so much better for me. Please, Zack. I’ve given up a lot to be completely with you.” I wanted to remind him of my sacrifice.

  “When? When does he want to meet?” Zack asked, giving in. His voice was softer now, kinder.

  “Sunday after Mass. It is really an honor, Zack. He wants us to attend Sunday Mass. You know, with the elites.”

  “Are you sure he doesn’t think you’
re dating a Price?” Zack asked, snide again. I didn’t say anything. I just gave him a disapproving “knock it off” look. “Fine, Liz. I’ll go. For you. But you have to promise to be objective. Even with him.”

  “I promise. I love you, Zack.” I jumped up and grabbed him around the neck. Standing on my tiptoes, I gave him a kiss.

  “I love you too. What else did you want to talk to me about?” His voice was sweet and soft now, like my Zack.

  “It can wait,” I replied, kissing him all over as we fell into bed.

  Track season had started up again, so Zack had to leave early Saturday morning for an out-of-town meet. He promised he’d meet me Sunday for church.

  Sunday morning I waited outside MIQ’s gates until he arrived. I had never been part of the media circus before and it made me nervous. I felt out of place. The Prices arrived and Caleb waited for Zack with me. When Zack walked up, the three of us walked into Mass. Zack and I followed Caleb to his family’s pew. I was so relieved that we were able to sit with the Prices. They made me feel more at ease, less of an outcast.

  I watched Zack all through Mass. He sat respectfully, following along with the Mass. He stood when we stood. He knelt when we knelt. He looked so patient, so respectful. Only I knew that he was secretly bored out of his mind. You could see it hidden at the back of his eyes, boredom. No one else would have noticed except for maybe Caleb, and that was only because he knew him so well.

  After Mass Zack and I waited by the rectory door for Monsignor Brennigan.

  “Come in, come in. You must be Zack,” Monsignor began, opening the door for us. “Please sit down.” He offered us a seat in his sitting room.

  Zack and I sat close together on the old peach Victorian velvet sofa. The sofa was tiny to begin with, and with Zack’s size it appeared more like dollhouse furniture than the real thing. Monsignor Brennigan sat across the small, scrolled-wood coffee table from us in his large green leather reading chair. No matter how many times I had seen that vomit-green chair, I was still shocked by its ugliness. It was awful, a true eyesore. Monsignor began to speak, diverting my attention away from the hideous chair.

  “Well, Zack, Liz tells me that you two are very serious.” Apparently the inquisition had begun.

  “Yes, sir. We are,” Zack confirmed in a clear, manly voice.

  “And how do your parents feel about this?”

  “They haven’t met Liz. I have told them about her, though.”

  My heart fluttered at the thought of Zack telling his family about me. I smiled at him lovingly as I squeezed his hand.

  “May I ask why they haven’t met her?” The inquiries were becoming more pointed.

  “I’m from a small town in Maine. My family owns a logging mill out there. It would be quite a trip, sir.” Zack was so eloquent and well mannered, I wondered if Caleb had prepped him.

  “Ah, I see.” Father looked like he was taking mental notes, but why? “Are you or your family religious, Zack?

  The dreaded question. Did he have to ask it so soon? Why couldn’t he wait until he got to know Zack a little more? I feared for the course of the conversation.

  “No, sir. Not in the strict religious sense. You could say we are spiritual. We believe in God. But no, we do not belong to a church,” Zack replied calmly.

  “I appreciate your honesty, son. How about your grades? Any activities?”

  I sighed with relief. Finally we were to the easy questions.

  “Well, sir, my grades are better now that I’m with Liz. As for sports, I’m on a track scholarship.”

  “All right. And Caleb Price is your roommate?”

  “Yes, sir, he is.”

  “Here it is, Zack. I think you are a nice boy. However, Elizabeth here is very dear to us at St. Matthew’s. It seems that she has strayed since she has been with you. It’s a truly unfortunate situation.”

  “Sir, if I may,” Zack interrupted. “Liz has not strayed. She remains as faithful to her church as the day I met her. She has only followed her heart, as I have mine.”

  I had never heard Zack so well spoken, almost poetic. How could Monsignor condemn us now?

  “I am a man,” Monsignor said. “I understand that young hearts want what young hearts want. I only hope that you treat Liz with the care, consideration, and respect God intends.”

  Monsignor Brennigan stood from his chair and held out his hand, presenting his ring to Zack. Zack and I stood also. I nudged Zack’s leg with my hand to shoo him over.

  “What?” he whispered.

  “Kiss his ring,” I instructed, quietly hoping that Monsignor would not hear.

  “I’m not kissing his ring.” Zack’s voice was suddenly too loud for a whisper.

  “Shh, Zack. He’s old-fashioned. Do it for me,” I begged, watching Father Brennigan stand motionless with his hand still outstretched.

  “He’s waiting.” I nudged him again.

  Zack slowly made his way across the room. He bent his tall body down and pressed his lips to Brennigan’s ring. Suddenly he jumped back. “It shocked me!” he exclaimed, rubbing his lips.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, Monsignor.” I turned to Zack. “It’s probably static electricity from the dry air, the weather.” Even I didn’t fully buy this excuse, but all I knew was that this had to end well.

  “Yes, the weather,” Monsignor Brennigan chuckled. “You may go now, Mary Elizabeth. I do hope that you visit again soon, Zack.”

  “Thank you, Monsignor.” I nodded as I grabbed Zack’s arm and hauled him outside to freedom.

  “I am so glad that is over,” I sighed.

  “Yeah, me too.” Zack said, still rubbing his lip. “That was weird.”

  “Yeah, meetings like that always are. But I think we passed.” I smiled and squeezed his arm.

  We climbed into the truck and I scooted over next to him. I rested my hand on his thigh the way I had done so many times before. It was different now, less covert. I could hold my head high again. We had received Monsignor’s blessing. It was a short but quiet ride back to my dorm. I was blissfully lost in thought, secure in the knowledge that everything would be better now. Zack dropped me off and headed over to track practice. We’d meet up later.

  Right before ten that night I headed over to Zack’s dorm. I hadn’t heard from him after practice and I wanted to make sure he was all right. Thinking back to the ride home from church this morning, I realized that he’d been very quiet. Nearly motionless, except for his driving.

  When I reached Zack and Caleb’s room, I knocked. Zack came and opened the door. He didn’t look well.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I think I’m just tired. I took off early from practice to get some sleep.”

  “Oh, do you want me to go?” I asked, hoping not.

  “No, you’re fine.” He lay back down on the bed.

  “Oh, good.” I let out a sigh. “Because I still need to talk to you. Now that everything is all over with Monsignor, I thought this would be a good time…I’ve kinda been waiting for the right time to tell you…”

  “What is it, Liz?” Zack asked, sitting up.

  “I think I’m pregnant, Zack,” I said breathlessly. Actually saying the words was so much harder than I thought.

  “Oh. Well, that’s news,” Zack muttered. I could tell he was stunned.

  “Are you okay with it?” I asked hesitantly.

  “Yeah, I guess so.” He gave me a weak smile.

  I quickly undressed for bed and went to lie next to Zack. I had just cuddled up to him when he spoke.

  “Liz, I’ve been thinking. What we’ve done is wrong.”

  The words stung my ears. “Wrong?” I asked, desperate for understanding.

  “Yeah, wrong. You know, sinful.”

  “What? Now you’re talking about sin? After all the grief you’ve given me? Isn’t it a little too late for that?” I snapped, more than a little ticked off at his insensitivity.

  “I just think that you should sleep at your own
dorm, at least for now.”

  “Thanks a lot, Zack. Way to be supportive!” I threw my jeans and t-shirt back on.

  As I thrust myself out the door I ran into Caleb. “Liz!” He sounded shocked by my sudden appearance. “What’s wrong?”

  “Ask your chaste roommate.” I huffed off.

  I cried all the way back to my dorm. I cried up the stairs. I cried as I unlocked my door. I cried for several hours more after I had flung myself across my bed. How could he do this to me, after everything we’d just gone through? After what I had just told him? Zack didn’t seem like himself. I tried to make excuses. Maybe it wasn’t a good time. Maybe he was still asleep. That one didn’t fly even in my head. The truth was maybe I didn’t know Zack at all. Maybe he was the gigantic jerk I used to think he was. My heart sank. I was all alone again, this time much worse off than ever.

  The next day I was still avoiding Zack as much as he was avoiding me. I went back to St. Matthew’s and threw myself into my work. Not that cleaning Monsignor Brennigan’s office was that much of a mental task. But it kept me busy, and that was all I could hope for. Thankfully Monsignor was gone at some meeting, so I didn’t have to face him in my emotionally unstable state.

  When I was cleaning his office, I did find something interesting. I couldn’t believe I had never noticed it before now. It was a diploma from St. Joseph’s College in Standish, Maine. Monsignor Brennigan had gone to college in Maine. Why hadn’t he mentioned it yesterday when Zack told him he was from Maine? Instead he just gave that “ah, I see” look and sighed. The more I discovered about Monsignor Brennigan, the odder I thought he was, like he was hiding something. Maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he was just interested in Zack yesterday. He could have been so determined to keep the upper hand that he didn’t want Zack to think he was buddy-buddy with him. Otherwise Brennigan’s interrogation would have lost its edge. Anyway, it wasn’t like I had just discovered he was a Nazi. Maybe Monsignor just assumed I already knew he’d graduated from a college in Maine. I did clean his office every week. I really didn’t know how I’d missed it. Except I had never known anyone from Maine until Zack. It wasn’t like millions of people went to college in Maine, so I wouldn’t be looking for the connection. Still, the whole thing struck me as odd. Most of it I just chalked up to my emotional upheaval. Everything seemed like a mystery to me now, especially Zack’s behavior.