Free The Drazen World: LUST (Kindle Worlds Novella) by Lola Darling Page B

says Henry on the message. “It’s for your own good. Hate me now if you need to, but one day, you’ll thank me.”
    That’s it. I listen to it twice more, as a growing cloud of foreboding builds around me. But there’s nothing else. No other clues to what he means. What exactly he did.
    I check his Facebook page, his other social media sites, but he’s just posting the same crap as ever. Photos of his dinner at some seaside bar tonight, and then a couple snaps of him at a club dancing with a hot Latino guy. No indication anywhere that he’s done anything to himself, so at least I can relax on that front. I’d hate to be the cause of yet another person’s deadly self-harm. I’ve got enough of that on my conscience.
    But I still don’t understand what he means. I finally manage to fall asleep, phone curled in my fist, three hours later, and it feels like the same kind of sleep I’d had the night Gabby died. A fitful sleep, full of dread, anxiously awaiting the storm I know is coming.

Chapter Nine
    The other shoe drops first thing the next morning. I wake up to the sound of my doorbell ringing frantically, pounding through my skull. I fling myself out of bed and grab the nearest clothes—jeans and a T-shirt that I yank over my head. I don’t know who the hell would be here this early—a quick glance at my clock reveals that it’s only 6AM. Way before my wake-up call.
    I stagger to the doorway, bleary-eyed, my hair a mess, sticking straight up in every direction over my head. But the moment I open the door, I forget about what I look like. Because Paul, standing there in a wrinkled black shirt with red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes, looks a hundred times worse.
    “Oh my God, what happened?” I catch his elbow, lead him inside, even as a spasm of pain crosses his face.
    He shakes himself free of my grip, though he does follow me inside and lets me shut the door behind us.
    “What’s wrong?” I reach for him, but he backs away again, bumps into a side table and winces. I’ve never seen him like this, and it’s terrifying me. He looks like somebody died. Or like he wants to die. “Paul, talk to me.”
    Tears, actual tears, shine along the edges of his eyes. He refuses to let them fall, but I can still see them hanging there, sparkling in the early morning sunlight. Last night, those bright green eyes were full of love and light and hope , for the first time in maybe years. I can’t bear to see them now, crushed of that same dreamy expression.
    “What happened?”
    His throat bobs as he swallows, pulling himself together. “This morning I was summoned to the bishop’s office.”
    Oh God . Before he even says another word, my tired, early-morning brain has begun to connect the dots.
    Henry.
    “Someone called him. Anonymously. Told him that they’d seen me having . . .” He stammers on the word. “Intercourse with a man. He demanded an explanation, and I . . . After last night, I couldn’t lie, Darren, it was written all over my face the moment he said it.”
    I shut my eyes, the world spiraling around me. Just when we’d finally gotten there, finally reached what we wanted. “What did he say?”
    “He grilled me. Asked me a lot of questions. Of course, it was consensual, and we’re both adults, but, you know, the church has been dealing with so much bad press lately, and yet another priest breaking his vows is the last thing they need right now.”
    My stomach sinks all the way down to the floor. And then passes through it to sink even lower. “What does that mean? They aren’t kicking you out, are they? I’ll go to the bishop, I’ll explain, say it was me who seduced you, that it wasn’t your fault. I know how much this means to you, Paul, I know you need this.”
    But he’s already shaking his head, and from the desperation in his eyes, I suddenly realize that it’s not that. It’s, somehow, even worse.
    “They’re transferring me,” he finally says, his voice the smallest he can make it.