The Saint
Page 88
She turned her back on him.
“I thought it was only Kingsley Edge you were spreading for,” her father shouted after her. “But now I know it’s the priest, too.”
Eleanor’s heart stopped. She slowly turned around.
“What are you talking about?” She kept her voice neutral, trying not to betray her fear.
“I found a business card in your coat. Edge Enterprises. There’s only one reason a man like Kingsley Edge would give you the time of day, and that reason’s between your legs.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“I’m right, though,” he said. “I tried to figure out how a nobody like you would even meet Edge. Not much reason for him to hang out in Nowhere, Connecticut, right? I asked around and found out he’s got this brother-in-law who stops by the house sometimes. A priest. A priest from Wakefield f**king Connecticut.”
“Dad, look,” Eleanor began, “it’s not what you think. I’m not sleeping with—”
“Save it. I have all the proof I need. Want to see? Pictures in my car. Nice one of you and your priest in a black BMW. Where were you two going anyway? Romantic weekend away together?” Her father laughed as if he’d made the most hilarious joke.
“It was a funeral. He wanted me to hang out with his sister, who’s my age. He was worried about her, and he thought she would talk to me since he wouldn’t talk to him.”
“You think the bishop will buy that excuse when I tell him one of his priests is f**king my underage daughter? Can’t wait to tell your mother what’s going on with you two.”
“What do you want?” Eleanor knew her father didn’t give a damn who she f**ked, what she did.
“I want you to come with me right now.”
“Why?”
“We’re going to go to my place and have a talk. I’m leaving town and I think you should come with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“You aren’t? Then I guess I’ll have to send all these pictures of you and Edge, you and your priest, to the police and your mother and your principal and the bishop. The newspapers, too. ‘Priest seduces teenage girl and shares her with his criminal brother-in-law’ would make a great headline.”
“Show me the pictures,” she said.
“They’re in the car.”
He walked over to an old beat-up Honda and opened the passenger door. He waited.
The last thing she wanted to do was get in that car. No, the last thing she wanted to happen was Søren getting in trouble because of her. She walked to the car and sat in the passenger seat. Her father slammed the door so hard she flinched. He got in the driver’s side and turned the engine on.
“Show me the pics,” she demanded.
“They’re at my place.”
“You said they were in the car.”
Her father started the engine and swung into the street. He turned the next corner as if trying to get her away as fast as possible from Kingsley’s house.
“You should thank me,” her father said as he sped down a side street. “You don’t want to get mixed up with Edge. I’ve heard stories about that French f**ker. Well, I suppose you know. You’re f**king him.”
“I’m not f**king him. We’re friends.”
“Friends? Is he your babysitter, too? That why he picked you up from school?”
“You’re sick. Spying on your own kid.” Eleanor shook with terror and fury. She’d been right. Someone had been in the church eavesdropping on her and Søren.
“Watching my own kid. Not spying. And it’s a good thing I did, too. I go away for a year and you end up spreading for some sick piece-of-shit molester priest.”
“My priest is the best man alive,” she said. Before her eyes her entire world ended—Søren’s name in the newspapers, transfer, defrocking, excommunication, and it was all her fault. “He’s been a better father to me than you ever were. You got me into trouble. He’s the one who got me out.”
“Yeah, and we both know how you’re paying him back.”
“Pull over. I’m getting out.”
“No, you’re not, little girl. You’re getting out of town with me.”
“I said, pull over,” she shouted, reaching for the wheel.
He slammed his elbow into her stomach so hard it knocked the air out of her lungs. She coughed hard and reached for the wheel again. Her father pushed back and Eleanor twisted around, scrambling out of his grasp.
“Sit down, you little bitch,” he ordered. He reached for her neck and Eleanor took a deep breath. She closed her eyes, kicked out and smashed in her father’s face with her boots. Blood erupted from his nose and the car swerved wildly in the street.
Eleanor threw open the car door and ran for it. She ran as hard and as fast as she could until she found a taxi and flagged it down. She gave the driver Kingsley’s address and begged him to hurry. A few minutes later she threw some bills at the driver and raced up the stairs and burst through the door of the town house and found Kingsley standing in the foyer loading a clip into a gun.
“Elle, what the f**k happened to you?” He looked both relieved and furious.
“My dad … He got out of prison. He made me get in his car. What are you doing with that gun?”
“Killing your father.” He shoved the gun into some kind of holster under his coat. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her to him. Starting at her thighs, he ran his hands all over her.
“I thought it was only Kingsley Edge you were spreading for,” her father shouted after her. “But now I know it’s the priest, too.”
Eleanor’s heart stopped. She slowly turned around.
“What are you talking about?” She kept her voice neutral, trying not to betray her fear.
“I found a business card in your coat. Edge Enterprises. There’s only one reason a man like Kingsley Edge would give you the time of day, and that reason’s between your legs.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“I’m right, though,” he said. “I tried to figure out how a nobody like you would even meet Edge. Not much reason for him to hang out in Nowhere, Connecticut, right? I asked around and found out he’s got this brother-in-law who stops by the house sometimes. A priest. A priest from Wakefield f**king Connecticut.”
“Dad, look,” Eleanor began, “it’s not what you think. I’m not sleeping with—”
“Save it. I have all the proof I need. Want to see? Pictures in my car. Nice one of you and your priest in a black BMW. Where were you two going anyway? Romantic weekend away together?” Her father laughed as if he’d made the most hilarious joke.
“It was a funeral. He wanted me to hang out with his sister, who’s my age. He was worried about her, and he thought she would talk to me since he wouldn’t talk to him.”
“You think the bishop will buy that excuse when I tell him one of his priests is f**king my underage daughter? Can’t wait to tell your mother what’s going on with you two.”
“What do you want?” Eleanor knew her father didn’t give a damn who she f**ked, what she did.
“I want you to come with me right now.”
“Why?”
“We’re going to go to my place and have a talk. I’m leaving town and I think you should come with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“You aren’t? Then I guess I’ll have to send all these pictures of you and Edge, you and your priest, to the police and your mother and your principal and the bishop. The newspapers, too. ‘Priest seduces teenage girl and shares her with his criminal brother-in-law’ would make a great headline.”
“Show me the pictures,” she said.
“They’re in the car.”
He walked over to an old beat-up Honda and opened the passenger door. He waited.
The last thing she wanted to do was get in that car. No, the last thing she wanted to happen was Søren getting in trouble because of her. She walked to the car and sat in the passenger seat. Her father slammed the door so hard she flinched. He got in the driver’s side and turned the engine on.
“Show me the pics,” she demanded.
“They’re at my place.”
“You said they were in the car.”
Her father started the engine and swung into the street. He turned the next corner as if trying to get her away as fast as possible from Kingsley’s house.
“You should thank me,” her father said as he sped down a side street. “You don’t want to get mixed up with Edge. I’ve heard stories about that French f**ker. Well, I suppose you know. You’re f**king him.”
“I’m not f**king him. We’re friends.”
“Friends? Is he your babysitter, too? That why he picked you up from school?”
“You’re sick. Spying on your own kid.” Eleanor shook with terror and fury. She’d been right. Someone had been in the church eavesdropping on her and Søren.
“Watching my own kid. Not spying. And it’s a good thing I did, too. I go away for a year and you end up spreading for some sick piece-of-shit molester priest.”
“My priest is the best man alive,” she said. Before her eyes her entire world ended—Søren’s name in the newspapers, transfer, defrocking, excommunication, and it was all her fault. “He’s been a better father to me than you ever were. You got me into trouble. He’s the one who got me out.”
“Yeah, and we both know how you’re paying him back.”
“Pull over. I’m getting out.”
“No, you’re not, little girl. You’re getting out of town with me.”
“I said, pull over,” she shouted, reaching for the wheel.
He slammed his elbow into her stomach so hard it knocked the air out of her lungs. She coughed hard and reached for the wheel again. Her father pushed back and Eleanor twisted around, scrambling out of his grasp.
“Sit down, you little bitch,” he ordered. He reached for her neck and Eleanor took a deep breath. She closed her eyes, kicked out and smashed in her father’s face with her boots. Blood erupted from his nose and the car swerved wildly in the street.
Eleanor threw open the car door and ran for it. She ran as hard and as fast as she could until she found a taxi and flagged it down. She gave the driver Kingsley’s address and begged him to hurry. A few minutes later she threw some bills at the driver and raced up the stairs and burst through the door of the town house and found Kingsley standing in the foyer loading a clip into a gun.
“Elle, what the f**k happened to you?” He looked both relieved and furious.
“My dad … He got out of prison. He made me get in his car. What are you doing with that gun?”
“Killing your father.” He shoved the gun into some kind of holster under his coat. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her to him. Starting at her thighs, he ran his hands all over her.
