Sinful Purity (Sinful Series)

by K. A. Standen

  “And they believed that?” I asked in disbelief.

  “Yeah, they did.”

  “Won’t they ask your dad or Congressman Reynolds?”

  “Don’t worry, Liz. I told my dad that you needed to get away. That the orphanage keeps you on a short leash and you needed a break. He totally understood. Remember our whole family feud thing? This fell right in to it. Perfectly, I might add.”

  “What about Congressman Reynolds?”

  “Oh, he’s back in DC for a couple of months for session. He won’t be talking to anyone at St. Matthew’s for a while,” Caleb assured.

  “Wow. That’s actually a damn good plan, Caleb,” Zack complimented, trying to smooth things over.

  “Yeah, it is. Thanks, Caleb,” I gushed, leaning over and rubbing his cheek with the back of my hand gratefully.

  Caleb smiled, pleased with his recognition and the renewed admiration for his loyalty. “So did you guys have a good time?” he asked, making friendly conversation now that everything was forgiven.

  “We had a wonderful time!” I exclaimed. “Zack’s family is great, really great.”

  Zack and I told Caleb all about our week-long getaway. I told him about Zack’s funny and unique brothers and Mr. Bartlett’s agonizingly bad cooking. Zack proudly recounted my recycling scheme and how his family adored me. I told Caleb all about the adorable town and nice people. We left the mushy stuff just for us.

  Then I remembered what I had uncovered in the library. I wanted to tell Caleb so badly. After taking a second thought, I decided not to say anything tonight, not after the whole airport stalker thing. Besides, Zack was already anti–St. Matthew’s. I didn’t want to add more fuel to the fire.

  Caleb dropped Zack and me off at my dorm. We headed up and went straight to bed. There wasn’t even any “funny stuff,” as Mr. Bartlett called it. I was exhausted and I could tell that Zack’s mind was still back at the airport.

  The next morning Zack, Caleb, Lucy, and I were reunited through our regular school-day routine. Falling back in to the swing of things was easier than I had expected. By the time the school day was over, it practically felt like I had never left. Caleb drove me over to St. Matthew’s for my Monday night shift while Zack caught up on track practice.

  Walking into St. Matthew’s, I was terrified that my secret escape had been discovered despite Caleb’s airtight alibi. To my surprise, no one at the church or at MIQ even glanced twice. A few of the sisters welcomed me back. Monsignor’s secretary asked how my trip to DC was. But that was it—no ambush, no intervention, no solitary confinement. By the time I left that night, I was certain that the secret of my clandestine holiday was safe, undiscovered. Getting into Caleb’s car, I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “How did it go?” Caleb asked anxiously.

  “Great, actually. No one thought twice,” I said, pleased.

  “I told you.” Caleb smirked self-approvingly.

  “Don’t forget to pat yourself on the back,” I teased.

  He laughed. “I won’t.”

  The week progressed nicely. I enjoyed being back and my classes were relatively interesting. I adored having time alone with Zack. Now that I knew so much more about him and his family, I felt privileged. I understood him so much better now, which only made me love him and enjoy his company even more.

  Wednesday night I headed back to St. Matthew’s for evening Mass and confession. To my surprise, when I stepped inside the confessional and knelt down, it was not Monsignor Brennigan’s face I saw. Instead it was the familiar soft, pale face of Father Michael, the priest who had heard my confession during all those months of exile. My heart sank. Had my secret been exposed? Was I once again an outcast, an abomination to the church?

  I finished my confession haphazardly and took my seat next to Sister Christine. It wasn’t until Mass began that my fears were pacified. Father Michael spoke from the altar. “Forgive the intrusion. I will be conducting Mass this evening in Monsignor Brennigan’s absence.”

  I leaned over and whispered to Sister Christine, “Where is Monsignor?”

  “He is away on official church business,” she replied, not releasing one meager detail.

  I sat through Mass only half listening to the young and inexperienced Father Michael. His homily was rough, unpolished, and did not hold my attention at all. My thoughts were lost in questions of Monsignor’s whereabouts. My trip to Maine had opened my eyes in so many ways. And in as many ways, it had confused my thoughts and created doubt in the depths of my soul. I sat there in the tranquility and reverence of St. Matthew’s, feeling more like an inquisitive visitor than a devout parishioner, part of the inner fold.

  I didn’t know what had changed. I still loved my church. I still held my religious beliefs dear to my heart as part of who I was. But somehow there was a distance now, a more objective outlook. I didn’t understand the feeling, although I felt that this was a more honest, more whole picture than I had ever seen before.

  Thursday after classes I headed over to Zack’s track practice to surprise him. He adored when I watched him excel at what he loved. He always had enjoyed attention and he considered me his own cheering section. When I wasn’t busy, I was always more than happy to oblige.

  When I got to the track, I couldn’t find Zack at first. Then I saw him, in the far right corner of the field up against the chain link fence. He was talking to a shorter, older man. It was hard to make him out in the distance. Then I saw Zack punch the fence and spin around angrily. He was running back to the main part of the track when he saw me. He ran up the stairs to the bleachers. I could see his temper flaring. His face was hard, with pinched eyes and clenched jaw. His lips were tightly pursed together. I had never seen him look so menacing. Zack ran up to me and grabbed me by the arm, yanking me to my feet.

  “Let’s go!” he barked.

  “Zack, you’re hurting me. Let go!” I demanded in pain.

  Zack never loosened his grip. He just continued to drag me behind him. I fought to break free from his crushing grip. “Zack, let go! What’s wrong with you?”

  “He’s a lunatic! You’re not going back. Ever!”

  “Who? What are you talking about?”

  Zack didn’t say a word. He just continued to drag me until we reached Fischer Hall. By the time he let go, I was just relieved that he didn’t want to haul me all the way across campus to my dorm. We walked quietly up to his room. Caleb wasn’t there. Zack and I went inside.

  “Now, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” I demanded, furious at him for his manhandling.

  “Give me a minute.” Zack bent over, grabbing his knees breathing hard like he did after a race. I sat down on the bed, waiting to be appeased. Then he spoke. “Liz, I don’t care what you say. You are not going back to St. Matthew’s or that wretched orphanage. I forbid it. We’ll find you a scholarship some other way. At the end of the year it’s not going to matter anyway. We’ll head back to Maine and never come back.”

  “What do you mean you forbid it?” I fumed at his chauvinistic behavior.

  “Liz, listen to me. He’s behind this, all of it. I know it.”

  “I don’t understand. Who? The guy you were arguing with?” I asked, remembering the stranger at the track.

  “Brennigan!” Zack yelled. “It was Brennigan!”

  My head reeled. “What?”

  “He searched me out, Liz. He came all this way to tell me to stay away from you.”

  “What? Tell me exactly what he said.” I wanted to believe Zack, but his behavior was erratic. And I just couldn’t wrap my head around what he was saying.

  “Listen, Brennigan came to the track, looking for me. He said that he knew everything. That he had ways. He told me I shouldn’t have taken you away. Something about corrupting your mortal soul and our union being your damnation. He sounded crazy. Hell, he looked crazy.”

  “Zack, that’s insane.”

  “I know it’s insane, Liz. He told me that you were his.”

/>   “His what?”

  “I don’t know, but then he threatened us. Well, me. I’m not sure. He said we’d be sorry, that I’d be sorry. That I’d regret my deception.” He sounded shaken.

  “Zack, that’s crazy. He’s a man of God. He wouldn’t threaten you.”

  “Liz, I’m telling you the truth. He didn’t look like a man of God when I talked to him. He looked deranged,” Zack insisted.

  We sat together a while, both in our own little worlds. I knew that Zack was really upset. He didn’t get upset often and this had really shaken him. Maybe there was truth behind what he said. But it was a little far-fetched. I mean, what was a priest going to do to us, banish us from Mass and church bake sales? It all sounded ridiculous.

  I decided not to push the matter any farther. I called Sister Christine and told her I wasn’t feeling well. Zack and I went off to the cafeteria to get some dinner and then back to my room. Zack was distant, stressed. I didn’t know how to make it better. All I could do was reassure him that we had the weekend together to work it all out. I was sure that we’d have it figured out by Sunday.

  Friday night after class, Zack surprised me with a night out. I could tell that the week had taken a toll on him, so I was more than willing to accompany him anywhere he wanted to go. When we climbed in his truck, I was pretty sure we were heading down to the Tripping Donkey to meet up with Caleb and Lucy. I desperately wanted time alone with Zack, but I figured that a night out with friends would be fine too. Maybe if we were lucky, Taylor’s band would be playing. A few minutes into the drive, I watched out the window as the Tripping Donkey passed. Zack never slowed down.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, intrigued.

  “I thought I’d take you to our place,” Zack replied, smiling.

  I smiled back at the thought of the little retro diner on First Street. I was so very happy that we were going to have a chance to be alone, just Zack and I, together at “our place.” I could feel my body vibrate with excitement. This was exactly what I’d wanted.

  Zack pulled up and parallel parked across the street from the diner. Ever the gentleman, he came around and opened my door for me, gently lifting me down from the oversized truck. He took my hand as we walked across the street. Just as we stepped off the curb, a black Town Car sped past, practically taking our toes off.

  “Hey, watch out!” Zack hollered. “What an idiot.” He turned to me. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Zack and I continued our perilous journey across the street. By the time we walked through the diner entrance, our laughing and upbeat mood had returned. We didn’t give our close call a second thought. We grabbed a booth near the back and took the menus from their holder on the table. The clumsy waitress we had watched on our last visit came over to take our order. In the few weeks since we’d been there, her skating skills had improved dramatically. She glided up to us gracefully.

  “What can I get you two?” she asked confidently.

  “Two cheeseburgers and two chocolate shakes,” Zack responded.

  “Great. It’ll be just a couple of minutes.” She skated away.

  Zack and I returned to chatting. Then a friendly, familiar voice interrupted our conversation.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Miss Lizzie.”

  It was Brett. His voice was as strong and seductive as ever, matching his devastating and enduring good looks and debonair moxie. I hadn’t seen him in so long. My memories of his ruggedly rebellious masculine features and mischievous smile didn’t do him justice.

  “You sure don’t look like Mary Ann anymore,” he commented, looking me up and down as if I were on sale.

  While it was true that my physical appearance had changed, matured, it was all the new experiences and my passionate love for Zack that had made the most difference. My stature was more erect, my posture more confident, drawing more attention to me than before. My internal happiness and vitality beckoned for everyone to notice me. My thick, dark hair had grown long and luxurious. Like it was when I was child, when I first arrived on the steps of Mary Immaculate Queen, before my vivacity and beauty had been systematically drilled out of me. My rich, creamy skin was once again luminous with life. Even my crystal-blue eyes held more sparkle away from my iron cage.

  I smirked. “Everyone likes to be Ginger once in a while.”

  “Liz, are you going to introduce me to your friend?” Zack interrupted jealously, disturbing my wild trip down memory lane.

  “Absolutely,” I replied, embarrassed by my mental indiscretions. “Zack, this is Brett. He’s an old friend,” I added casually as I introduced my past to my present. “I grew up with his sister. You know, Kelly.”

  “Oh, you’re Kelly’s brother. It’s nice to meet you,” Zack responded genteelly. I knew he was secretly a little relieved.

  “Did you want to join us, Brett?” I offered.

  “No, that’s okay. Maybe another time. I was just going.” Brett excused himself.

  “Wait,” I called. “What are you doing in town?”

  “I’m only here for a week or so. I had some things to take care of. Then I’ll be flying back to California.”

  Some things to take care of.

  “Is everything okay? Is Kelly okay?” I asked, worried.

  “Yeah, Liz. Absolutely. I just had some estate matters to tie up with our attorney. No big deal.”

  “Oh, okay. Good.” I breathed in relief.

  “Anyway, I think my order’s up. I’m just picking up something to go.”

  “Oh, well, it was nice seeing you. Tell Kelly I said hi, all right?”

  “Yeah, no problem,” Brett said nonchalantly as he turned and walked up to the takeout window.

  A minute later our waitress arrived with our food. She was apparently less proficient than I’d previously given her credit for. She stumbled directly in front of our table, spilling a chocolate shake all down the front of Zack’s shirt. He tried to blot it up with the two napkins she had left us at the table, but it was no use. His lap was full of chocolate ice cream and whipped cream.

  “I’ll go get you some more napkins,” I said hastily.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m going to go clean up in the restroom.” Zack slid out of the booth, shaking off the dripping chocolate sludge all over the ground.

  Our table, booth, and the adjacent floor looked like a toxic spill, with the mutant’s footprints leaving a trail from the slop to the refuge of the lavatory. I ran up to the front to grab some more napkins and possibly a towel. Brett was still at the takeout counter.

  “Excuse me,” I said politely, squeezing by him to the napkin dispenser.

  “Hey, Liz.” Brett grabbed my attention.

  “Sorry, there was a spill,” I laughed, looking over at the syrupy calamity.

  “I’ve got something for you.” He held up his fingers and revealed a little folded piece of paper.

  My hands were full with what seemed like a couple hundred wadded-up paper towels. Before I could say anything, Brett grabbed me around the waist, turning my body to face him. He slid the origami-like note deep into my front pocket. My mind was thrown back to the last time he had done the same exact thing, the day he left.

  “Liz, please call me. If you ever need anything, call. Okay?” His words were firm yet tender at the same time.

  Astonished, I couldn’t say anything. I just nodded.

  “Goodbye, Liz. It was good to see you,” Brett said as he walked out the door and out of my life again.

  I hurried back to the sticky mess of the booth and frantically began trying to clean up the mess. Our waitress was apparently too embarrassed to help, since she was nowhere to be found. Zack came back from the restroom and insisted that we sit in a different booth. One that was at least dry was his stipulation.

  After a syrupy and chaotic meal, the manager did come to our table and apologize. Zack was calm now and pleased that we had gotten a free meal out of the deal. I’m sure he hadn’t planned on st
aying in his sugar-covered, crusty clothes much longer anyway. We got up to leave, hand in hand, and began to walk out the door.

  “Oh, Zack, I forgot my purse back at the table. I have to go get it. I’ll be right back,” I told him.

  “That’s okay. I’m going to go get the truck. I’ll meet you out front.”

  I ran back inside the diner to the booth. There was my purse sitting right where I’d left it. I grabbed it. Before I had a chance to turn around, I heard the squealing of tires and brakes locking up. The deafening commotion was followed by a long chorus of screams. I spun around to see the mayhem. A large crowd of people had gathered in the street around something that looked like a body lying on the pavement.

  Oh my God. I didn’t see Zack anywhere. I ran to the front of the diner just as the crowd parted.

  “Noooo!” I screamed frantically, seeing the bloodied face of my love.

  I shoved my way through the crowd, falling to the ground next to Zack. He was unconscious. “Someone call nine-one-one!” I shrieked, and then the tears came. Hysterical screams and sobs melted together in a wailing cry. “Oh my God! No! Oh God! No!”

  When the police and paramedics arrived, they had to pull me off him. My face was stained with tears. My clothes were red with his blood. Everything around me was an incomprehensible blur. I watched as they loaded Zack into the ambulance. I tried to climb in with him, but a police officer grabbed me from behind and pulled me back down. “I’m sorry, ma’am, family only.”

  “I’m his fiancée,” I insisted.

  “You can see him at the hospital. I’m sorry.” I collapsed to the ground, wailing wildly. “Is there someone I can call for you?” the policeman offered.

  I composed myself just long enough to give him Caleb’s number. Then I broke down completely. My sanity and bodily control left with the ambulance that held Zack’s wounded body. The policeman sat me on the curb. “Please wait here, ma’am. Your ride is on his way.”

  I sat there dazed, rocking back and forth, futilely trying to comfort myself. Somewhere in the chaos of my brain, I could hear voices. They sounded distant, like they were inside a room behind a closed door or perhaps down a tunnel. The officer was taking witness statements from the crowd.