*TEMPTED*

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*TEMPTED*

*Chapter 4: “

The old mill was silent.

The kind of silence that pressed against your ears and made you hear your own heartbeat too loud. The kind that made you think if you screamed, no one would come.

Britt stood in the doorway, heart pounding, staring at the silhouette in the shadows. The man in the black coat hadn’t moved. He’d been waiting.

“You came,” he said.

His voice was low, rough from disuse or cigarettes or both. It scraped against her skin.

“Obviously,” Britt replied, voice steadier than she felt. She shoved her hands into her jacket pockets so he wouldn’t see them shake. “You said come alone. So here I am. What do you want?”

He stepped forward, and the moonlight caught his face for half a second. Not much older than her dad. Maybe 40. Eyes hard. Jaw set like he’d been clenching it for ten years.

“Closure,” he said. “Justice.”

“For what my dad did?” Britt shot back. The words came out sharper than she meant them to. Defensive. “I was twelve! I didn’t know half of it!”

“You knew enough to stay quiet,” he said. “You knew enough to enjoy the money.”

The accusation landed like a slap. Britt’s stomach dropped. Because he was right. She’d known. Not everything. She hadn’t known the exact numbers, the names of the people her dad had screwed over. But she’d known something was wrong. She’d seen the late-night arguments between her parents. She’d seen the way her mom’s face went pale when the phone rang. She’d seen the new car, the vacations, the way they suddenly stopped worrying about money.

And she’d said nothing.

She’d told herself she was a kid. That it wasn’t her problem. That if she said something, her family would fall apart.

“You have two choices, Brittany,” he said. His voice didn’t waver. “You go to the police tonight. Tell them everything you know. Or I tell everyone. Oliver. Amy. The whole town.”

Britt swallowed hard. The lump in her throat felt like glass. “If I go to the police… it’s over?”

“Maybe,” he said. “I’ll be watching.”

He disappeared into the darkness before she could answer. One second he was there, the next he was gone, swallowed by the shadows of the mill like he’d never existed.

Britt stood there for a long time. The wind moved through the broken windows and made the old wood creak. She thought about running. About going home, pretending this never happened, deleting the number from her phone.

But she couldn’t.

Because if she didn’t go to the police, he would. And if he told Oliver…

She couldn’t let Oliver find out like that. Not from some stranger in the dark. Not like that.

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*3:00 AM. St. Marlow Police Station.*

The station smelled like stale coffee and disinfectant. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, making everything look washed out and unreal.

Britt sat in the waiting room, hands clenched in her lap. Her knuckles were white. She hadn’t told anyone. She couldn’t. Not her mom. Not Amy. Not Oliver.

A police officer came out and looked at her over his glasses. “Can I help you, miss?”

Britt stood up. Her legs felt numb.

“My name is Brittany Harper,” she said. Her voice cracked on her own name. She cleared her throat. “I need to report a crime.”

It took two hours.

She told them everything. About her dad. About the fraud. About the shell companies and the fake invoices and the money that disappeared into offshore accounts. About what she knew, what she didn’t. About the conversations she’d overheard when she was supposed to be asleep. About the way her dad had laughed about it once, thinking she was too young to understand.

She told them about the man in the black coat. About the ultimatum.

The officer typed slowly, nodding occasionally. He didn’t look surprised. St. Marlow was small, but it wasn’t innocent.

When she finished, he closed the laptop. “Thank you, Ms. Harper. We’ll take it from here.”

“Am I… am I in trouble?” Britt asked. Her voice was small.

“You came forward on your own,” he said. “That matters. But we’ll need to talk again.”

When she walked out, the sun was rising. The sky was pale pink and gold over the rooftops of St. Marlow. She felt empty. Hollowed out. Like someone had reached inside her and taken everything out.

And free.

God, she felt free.

She didn’t go home right away. She sat on the curb outside the station and watched the town wake up. The bakery opened. The bus rolled through. A dog barked somewhere down the street.

Normal life.

She wondered how long it would stay normal.

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*Thursday morning. 11:00 AM.*

Britt was in the kitchen, eating cereal dry because she was too lazy to get milk, when her mom walked in.

“You look tired,” her mom said.

“Thanks. You look like you raised a problem child.”

Her mom smiled. “I did. And I’m proud of you.”

Britt blinked. “That was… unexpectedly nice.”

“I have my moments,” her mom said. “Look, whatever’s going on at school, you don’t have to handle it alone. Okay?”

Britt nodded. She didn’t say anything.

She couldn’t.

Because at midnight, she’d met him at the mill.

Because at 3 AM, she’d gone to the police.

And she couldn’t tell her mom.

She spent the morning moving through the house like a ghost. Shower. Change clothes. Pretend.

Her phone sat face-down on the counter. It hadn’t buzzed since she left the station. That didn’t make her feel better. It made her feel like he was waiting.

Her mom watched her from the doorway. “You’re quiet.”

“I’m thinking,” Britt said.

“About?”

Britt forced a small smile. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

Her mom didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push. She just nodded and went back to the laundry.

Britt finished her cereal dry and rinsed the bowl.

She had the rest of the day to get through before she could breathe again.

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*Tuesday night, two days earlier.*

Britt’s parents had gone to church for confession. They’d tried to persuade Britt to come too, but she’d refused. She wasn’t ready. Maybe she never would be.

They’d left without her, and she’d sat in the wait room sighing as the minutes dragged by. The church was quiet. Too quiet. It made her skin crawl.

“I can’t take this anymore, I’m so bored,” she said out loud. Her voice echoed in the empty hallway.

She got up and stormed to the back of the church, hoping to see something interesting.

And she did.

She saw Oliver crouched down by the side entrance, feeding something and saying soft coo words like: “aw, you’re adorable. I wonder who abandons a kitten as cute as you?”.

The sight was so incongruous it stopped her in her tracks. Oliver, the future priest, cooing over a stray kitten like it was the most important thing in the world.

Britt sneaked up behind him, leaned down close to his ear, her breath fanning his neck. It sent tingles down his spine and made him feel funny. She could feel it in the way his shoulders tensed.

Startled, Oliver drops the cat food and turned around sharply. Britt was staring down at him while he remained frozen in spot as she smirked down at him, their lips almost touching.

She suddenly straightened up as if nothing had happened and went to pick the kitten up.

“You’re so cute, aw,” britt said as she caressed the kitten, the kitten purred satisfiedly.

Embarrassed, as pink coloured his cheeks as he stood up and tried to appear tough.

“Wh- what are you doing here?” he stuttered while trying to put on a brave look.

“I won’t tell you,” she said. “Besides, this is a church, people come here whenever they want to Oliver.” She took two daring steps towards him. He moved back quickly and that caused britt to smirk.

“Are you afraid of me, Oliver?” She said, taking another daring step towards him still holding the kitten. “Afraid I’m going to make you sin? Afraid I’m going to eat you alive, little priest?” Britt added with a sinister smile.

Oliver forced himself to stay put, rooted on the spot, unable to move as if she had him under a spell or something.

She moved closer and leaned in, whispered into his ear.

“I’m going to make you sin, little priest.”

The words were barely a breath. But they hit him like a punch.

With these words, Britt carefully placed the kitten on the ground and walked away with a smirk plastered on her face.

“Bye, little priest,” she said, walking away leaving Oliver standing there unmoving.

He couldn’t help but feel a little excitement when she said those words. It scared him. It thrilled him. It made him feel dirty and alive all at once.

His hands gripped the rosary around his neck as he began reciting the Lord’s prayer and begging for God’s mercy.

Oliver leaves, pets the cat one last time and then leaves with his flushed face.

Britt lingered in the doorway for a second, watching him go.

She felt powerful. And guilty. And hungry for more.

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[end of chapter four]

TO BE CONTINUED.