“We’re closing in five minutes.” Pushing the stone doorstop away with his foot, he pivoted, pale blue eyes scanning the study room one last time, as he pulled the wooden doors closed, and reached into his robe for the skeleton key, turning it in the lock before spinning back to the pews, and the lone worshipper in the front row.
Gripping the pew backs on either side of the aisle, he paused for a beat, toes flexing painfully in his leather shoe, and slowly started the weary limp back to the altar with a shake of his head.
“Know what’s wrong with the world today? No goddamn respect for the sacrosanct, that’s what.” His voice a low rumble, he reached across a pew for a casually flung psalm book, smoothing the wrinkled pages with the flat of his hand, and let it drop with a thud, into the pew’s book rack.
His gaze lifting to the unmoving parishioner, he grunted, narrowing his eyes, and limped up alongside the man.
“You’re welcome to come back tomorrow, son. Doors open for mass at eight…”
“I won’t be coming back tomorrow, father. And neither will you.”
Startled gaze sweeping over the man as he rose to his feet, a smirk on his face, he stood his ground, and reached discreetly behind his back to the candle holder, wrapping his fingers around the heavy brass base.
“I told Johnny to keep you boys out of my…”
Eyes flying wide at the sparking yellow flash of a gun muzzle, he froze, disbelief at searing pain coursing through him, and put a hand to his abdomen, his lips curving in a pained grimace.
“You SHOT me, you… son of a fetid whore! ”
His world spinning into black as laughter sounded in his ears, he threw himself forward, bringing the candlestick down with a crack as he connected with bare tile, his muffled “Oomph”, lost in the thrum of running footsteps, echoing through the oratory.“
Gasping. “Angel of God, my guardian dear…”
