CH 12

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Headlights splashed across the dark church as Patrick parked the Trans Am out front. He gripped the steering wheel, sending an ache winding up his forearms. His knuckles whitened and throat squeezed, tears welling. Patrick gulped air, chest heaving, as he stared at the church building, the structure blurred and distorted through his fear and pain and confusion.

Patrick didn't fully understand this sudden onslaught of emotion but felt himself breaking beneath it. What was happening? What was wrong with him?

Derek—it's Derek's fault.

He hadn't simply walked away from the man—he'd fled.

Chased by Derek's questions and inquiries.

Patrick trembled and clutched the wheel tighter, shaking apart inside. This wasn't right. Derek shouldn't have this hold on him—they only just met yesterday!

He shouldn't have this hold on you—period.

Tears ran free, spilling down his face, and sobs clogged his chest.

Am I having a nervous breakdown?

He didn't know, he'd never had one before, but imagined it must feel like this... like the world came crashing down as you slowly lost your mind. Panic pricked his chest and, for a moment, he thought he might pass out. Or die.

A sense of claustrophobia grabbed him, and he gasped, throwing open the driver's door. He stumbled from the car, sucking his lungs full of the cool evening air, struggling to breathe.

Sobs erupted as he fell to his knees on the sidewalk before the church, then broke down crying. He crawled to the grass and dropped on his back, staring up at the night sky as tears poured down his temples into his ears.

"Why... why have you forsaken me?" he cried to the heavens. "Whatever I did wrong... I'm sorry... please don't leave me." He curled his arm over his eyes, crying harder.

Derek is what's wrong—get rid of him.

The sudden insistent thought squeezed his chest with pain, his heart stabbed through with shards of anguish. Confusion pulled him under, drowned him. He didn't understand this reaction and it terrified him.

Get rid of him and everything will be okay again.

Patrick lowered his arm. The stars blurred above him. He usually gained a sense of peace while gazing at the night sky. Not tonight. He felt God staring back, disappointed with him for being so easily led astray—by a porn star of all things.

"I'm sorry," he whispered brokenly. "I-I'll fix it. I will. I'll get rid of him and... and never see him again." He sat forward and wiped his eyes. His hands shook as he took out his phone, opened the contacts, and brought up Derek's name. When he started to delete it, he faltered, his eyes locked on Derek's name and number.

Do it!

His chin trembled and shame spilled through him at his reluctance to erase the man from his phone... his life. Quiet sobs tumbled forth as he completed the task and deleted the contact.

Derek still had his number... but not for long.

Tomorrow morning, he would change his number and sever all links to the porn star.

He would be right with God once again, his life back on track. All would be well.

Sinking onto the grass, Patrick gazed numbly at the stars above... and awaited the spiritual relief that, at the moment, was nowhere to be found.

Fallen Angels: Fallen Book 1 (a Boys of Porn novella)Where stories live. Discover now