A Gangster's Gospel

Chapter 14: Cardinal Sin: Wrath

Trigger Warning: Violence, Homophobia

It was quiet when Jeremiah entered his home.

His mother's Highlander was parked in the driveway and his father's car was missing so the smaller man assumed his mom was probably upstairs asleep. It was past six in the evening so it made sense.

Jeremiah didn't linger too much in the shared living spaces before going to his room.

Upon entering his room Jeremiah released a deep sigh. He glanced around the small bedroom.

Earlier he had asked Thaddaeus if he was happy, but as he looked around his shoebox of a bedroom he thought to himself, was he happy?

After what happened with his father three years ago, he moved from his large bedroom on the third floor to the guest room on the first floor that barely fit all that he had before. There were clothes, shoes, random trinkets and little nick-nacks that he left behind in his old bedroom because they wouldn't fit in the small room he chose to confine himself in.

Jeremiah rarely went up to his old bedroom because the memories of three years ago and the trauma it left behind were too much for him to bear.

The last time he went up to his old bedroom was probably a year after the event. After graduating highschool and losing his athletic scholarships Jeremaiah decided to take a year off of school entirely to work and volunteer.

Even though he had saved quite a bit from working he knew living alone and attending college would be difficult and he'd run through his savings within a matter of months. Even though he had managed to get a few grants that aided in lowering his tuition fees Beaurock Community College was still expensive and working with nothing more than a highschool diploma was much harder than he expected.

Jeremiah dropped his clothes on the floor and kicked off his shoes before he fell face first onto his bed. He missed Thaddaeus and it hadn't even been an hour since the man dropped him off at home.

The smaller man sniffed the shirt Thaddaeus had given him to wear earlier and the soft lavender scent of the man's detergent calmed him down. Now that he was away from Thaddaeus he realized the taller man's home didn't smell like smoked cherries. It made him wonder if Thaddaeus was an active smoker or just an occasional one.

Wherever they met at St. Clementia and when they met at the library the gangster smelt like he had smoked before, but the night before Jeremiah didn't smell anything, including the blood the man had mentioned.

He liked the smell of smoked cherries that Thaddaeus emitted. It was oddly comforting.

The soft click of his bedroom door opening alerted Jeremiah that someone had entered his room. Expecting to see his mother, Jeremiah quickly sat up only for his blood to run cold when his father entered his room.

Instinctively, Jeremiah put distance between him and his sperm donor by moving to the other side of his bed. It wasn't ideal since he was further from his bedroom door but it was better than being within arms reach of the man.

Pastor Keating stared at Jeremiah with obvious displeasure. The man sized Jeremiah up from head to toe before glancing at the floor and picking up the St. Clementia garment that was basically a pile of rags from the floor.

"Where were you last night?" Pastor Keating asked, dropping the torn fabric on the floor, wiping his hands on his pants like he touched a piece of trash. He didn't get any closer to Jeremiah.

Jeremiah flinched, his voice caught in his throat as he quickly tried to come up with a valid excuse but nothing came to mind, "Out." he simply replied.