Free Payable On Death: A Jax Rhodes Novel, Book One (The Jax Rhodes Series 1) by Rachel Rawlings Page A

menus. I collected both menus from the table before Dane had a chance to open his and politely handed them back to Sal.
    "We'll have the Strangolapretti and il vino della casa."
    "What did you just order?"
    "Pasta and house wine."
    "There's a pasta called strangled priest?"
    "It's Tuscan. Nino still makes it for me even though it’s not on the regular menu." Dane seemed slightly put off by the name so I didn't mention that was what made me want to try it in the first place. "You speak Italian? I only know enough to order off the menu."
    "Italian and Latin, actually."
    "Latin, huh? Impressive."
    Sal returned to the table with a tray holding bread, seasoned oil, and the wine. He set two glasses on the table, pouring for both of us before setting the bottle down, followed by the small basket of warm bread and oil between us. Once we sampled and approved the wine, he left to check on our meal.
    Dane grabbed a piece of bread, breaking off a chunk and dipping it in the oil before placing it in his mouth. I reached for my wine, taking a sip as I watched him repeat the process. When he opened his mouth the second time, I was taken back to the moment he knelt over Joan and placed the wafer in his mouth. He'd done something, performed some sort of ritual, and I planned to find out exactly what.
    "Hey, where'd you go?" Dane waved a hand in my face to get my attention.
    "What?" I hadn't realized how long I'd disappeared into my thoughts.
    "I was asking about Joan, you wanted to talk about the stuff she said. Not the most romantic dinner conversation but it seems important to you, so I'm all ears. Fire away, let's figure it out together."
    "What did you do to Joan at the shelter?" I found it interesting his thoughts had drifted to the same place as mine.
    "I prayed for her." Dane took a sip of wine and I could tell he wished it was something stronger.
    "That's it. You prayed for her."
    "Yes, something like a last rites."
    "Is this some weird Opus Dei shit?"
    "What?" Dane clearly didn't get the reference.
    "You know Dan Brown, Angels and Demons ? Never mind, forget it. So you just carry around oils and what, the holy Eucharist in your coat pockets?" I didn't bother to hide my disbelief. He was holding back—that much was obvious.
    "Look, I'm not a priest or anything. I spent a lot of time in the church growing up, which came in handy when I took Joan's case. The woman was a religious fanatic. I prayed with her for over an hour before I could get her to go to the psych ward. When she took off, I figured it couldn't hurt taking some oil and water in case I needed to bless her or something to get her to go back."
    "You can't bless people. I didn't spend a lot of time in the church but even I know that."
    "According to who? The Church?" Dane held back a laugh. "Besides, she didn't know that."
    "That's cruel." My heart broke for Joan's tormented soul. I hoped she found peace, found her God, and he'd forgiven her for taking her life.
    "Cruel? Try merciful, Jax." Dane played with his fork, spinning it around by the tines on the white table cloth. "The woman was out of her mind. I gave her a little peace and convinced her to come with me to a safe place where she couldn't hurt herself. I have no reservations about doing it again. That doesn't make me cruel or a bad guy."
    "What if she wasn’t? What if she wasn't crazy?" Dane was right, he hadn't done anything to hurt Joan, not really, not if she wasn't aware of the ruse. I plunged ahead before he made arguments about Joan's diagnosis. "Look, my life is full of demons. Riddled with them, in fact. Five years ago, I… five years ago...." I stumbled on the words, my tongue suddenly tied and unable to say I'd sold my soul.
    "Jax, we all have our demons. You're human—I'd be more worried if you didn't. You can't let what some mentally disturbed woman said to you mess with your head."
    "I'm not speaking metaphorically." I paused as Sal approached with our dinner, not wanting the waiter to overhear