15, end of August

It was three days before her departure back to New York, and for some reason, Tabitha wasn't ready to head back. So far, most of her time here in Seahill was wonderful. The people, the landscape, just about everything. Except for one person, that priest. From the beginning, he rubbed her off the wrong way. It was to the point that he implied that she was going to put herself out there like a slut. Well, maybe not that far, but he could've if he wanted to.

She was going to miss spending time with her grandmother, who made quite an exceptional company, but they did agree to start talking over the phone a bit more often. A mutual bond was created in a matter of months.

Before leaving, she wanted to head somewhere nice, relaxing before she headed back. There was a small beach within walking distance. She decided to go and maybe take pictures. Her grandmother couldn't go with her. Sonya's strength wasn't enough to make the short trip. She allowed her granddaughter to go by herself, asking that she be back before sundown. Complying, she kissed her grandmother's cheek before taking a book and camera in her small bag and headed off.

Within an hour, she had reached, taking her time to admire the nature around her. In New York, everything is hidden behind industrial buildings and acid rain. She wore a long midi dress, covered with a floral pattern that covered her up to her ankles. It was midday when she arrived on the sand. The day was a bit windy. She took her time walking along the coast, mesmerized by the water creeping up onto the shore.

The sun shone, but it wasn't too hot of a day. The sky was set to rain, but she brushed the thought off.

She spent hours on the beach, taking several pictures, and sat on some rocks watching the ocean. She also started to read her book, a Thomas Hardy classic, Tess of d' Urbervilles. It was a classic tale that she believed tests society and their treatment towards women who are met with barricades frequently in life. Tess was thrown into a cycle she couldn't control, yet somehow was forced to take the repercussions of it. Alec was a despicable character, thinking his status and money could aid for his ill desires for Tess.

As she was reading, Tabitha felt droplets of water fall on her. When she looked up, she saw the rain starting to pour. Within minutes, it started to rain hard. She quickly ran for cover. She found a small cave-like structure to go under for the time being. Unfortunately, she didn't know what time it was, no doubt her grandmother may start worrying for her.

She started shivering from the wet clothes clinging onto her, and her hair thick with water holding it down. Tabitha pondered on how she was going to get herself out of this one, but little did she know someone was coming to her aid.

She saw dark shoes at the edge of the shelter and slowly crawled over to see who it was. Looking up, she saw the face of the person whom she wanted to see the least, Stephen Foley. He was wearing a thick sweater, a long scarf around his neck; who wore a scarf in the middle of August? She allowed questions to fleet feeling some relief wash over her seeing him with an umbrella.

"H-How did you know I was here?" She knew she needed to get out of the rain. The cold was getting to her.

"I didn't. I by chance saw someone running here and decided to check it out." He outstretched his hand for her to take. She was going to take it but pulled back, was it right to go with him?

After a moment of hesitance, Tabitha took his hand, using it to help get her out. They both were now under the umbrella, Stephen holding her close, quickly running to his car. Reaching inside the small vehicle, he started to drive, but not in a direction she recognized. Looking out the window, she asked him in a low voice, "Where are we going?"

Finally turning to her, he watched her small figure shivering. "My house." She turned to him, a confused look on his face, "Can't you take me back to my grandmothers?"

"There's going to be a thunderstorm, and being so close to the ocean isn't the best. My place is the closest. I'll call your grandmother when we reach my house." There was nothing she could say to him, or something that she wanted to say but chose not to. He took glances at her, feeling pity for her having to be in this situation. He looked straight, searching for her home.

Reaching there, she took notice of how big it was, compared to the other houses in the area. Was she surprised? Not really. In New York, it was known that the Catholic Church would always keep their men in well-off places. This care was thanks to the parishioner's money. Stephen got out first, taking hold of the large umbrella, heading to her side, opening the door. She came out, holding her belongings close to her.

They headed inside, greeted with some warmth the air outside lost. Putting the umbrella down, Stephen took off his dark shoes before walking into the house. Tabitha followed suit, trembling from the water sticking to her skin. He wanted to make sure she wouldn't get sick, so he led her further inside, taking her belongings at hand. He left her for a few moments, coming back with a towel at hand.

Giving it to her, he told her quietly, "The washroom is the first door to the right upstairs. You should hurry up before you catch a cold. You know your grandmother wouldn't be happy about that." She would say a retort against him, but he was right. Without saying a word to him, she followed his words.

As she was gone, he looked to see if there was anything in her belongings that needed drying. Was it wrong to snoop? Yes, but frankly, he didn't care. If there was something for her to hide, she shouldn't have taken it out in the first place. Stephen saw her camera first, deciding to wipe it dry. Her small bag was drenched. It needed drying. He then looked at the paperback that was also there. A scoff escaped his lips, reading the title. Tess of the d'Urbervilles was a title he despised, mocking religion with the characters, and the common practices of paganism. This was not a book she should read.

Heading to his room, he knew she couldn't wear back the clothes from before, so he looked for something for her to wear. He took out a long t-shirt and a pair of his boxers. He was against giving her his underwear, but what choice was there really?

Well, his brain nagged, you could've taken her back home. Stephen grew angry with the thought, knowing it was true, despite what he told her. He just wanted her to see he wasn't the bad guy she suspected him to be.

Walking back downstairs, he knocked on the bathroom door.

"Tabitha, I left something for you to wear in my bed. You can leave your clothes there too. I'll put them to dry later." Assuming she heard him, he went to his living room, put up the fire in his fireplace, and decided to call her grandmother.

After a few rings, the line picked up, "Hello?"

"Sonya, this is Stephen. I just wanted to let you know that Tabitha is with me." He heard the relief in her voice by his words. "Thank goodness. I was so worried that she got caught in the storm. If you don't mind, can she stay with you for the night? I'll come to pick her up in the morning."

"It's not a problem. I'll bring Tabitha to yours tomorrow after breakfast. Don't worry about the journey. Have a good night."

"Night, Stephen."

Just as he hung up, he turned to see her figure there, hands behind her back, hair covering her face. He saw her body in his clothes, taking a deep swallow down his throat.

Lord , he thought to himself, protect me tonight. Let me not fall into temptation.

~~~~~

When she heard him through the bathroom door, Tabitha froze, keeping herself in the corner. She wasn't used to being alone with men unless it was her dad. What makes things worse was that she didn't trust Father Foley. She knew something was up with him even though she didn't know what it was.

Adhering to what he said, she went to his room and saw the clothes he left for her. It wasn't much but better than nothing. She watched herself in his mirror, seeing her hair covering her entire body. She limply lifted a strand, contemplating on it. Maybe she should cut it a little. What's the use of keeping it so long?

Heading back down, she heard him on the phone, no doubt with her grandmother. Hearing that she was going to stay the night was disheartening, but what choice did she have? At least it was a warm place rather than outside.

She saw him turn to her, her hair covering her face. They both stood there for a few moments before he finally decided to do something else. "Are you hungry?"

It was quite some time since she last ate, "Yes, thank you" She knew he was going to give her food, it was the right thing to do. If he was the man she thought he was, part of his charade was to give her something to eat.

He motioned for her to follow him into his kitchen, probably wanting her to tell him what she wanted. Not being a picky person, she said whatever he was going to eat, not wanting to trouble him any further.

He had a shepherd's pie his mother gave to him just the day before. Hopefully, she wasn't a picky eater.

Thankfully for him, Tabitha lived in a household where leftovers were a necessity with how busy their lives were in New York.

Usually, being alone all the time, Stephen would sit in his kitchen thinking to himself. Maybe tonight it would be different. He was thankful for some company, even if it was in the form of a young girl who was too naive for her own sake. Instead, he suggested they sit near the fireplace since he knew she needed to stay warm so she wouldn't get sick. He had two armchairs, one leather and another more homely and plush. She went straight for the more comfortable of the two, pulling her legs up under the shirt, stretching it out. He watched her as they ate in silence. Tabitha's distant yes showed she was in her world. When she finished, he watched as she went towards the kitchen, most likely to put away her dish, and came back, but this time with the book that had gotten wet. It looked salvageable enough that she could turn the page at ease.

There was a bit of irritation on his part, seeing her read the book on the floor near the fire, so he decided to distract her from it.

"How is your book going?" She turned to him, eyes became wide with surprise that was talking with her. "It's going alright. I'm still only in the beginning though." He sat up now, "Really, which part are you on?"

"When she works for her cousin Alec, his deplorable actions towards her is something that wouldn't be tolerated today." He looked straight into the fire, his sharp jaw ticking in agitation.

"Well, she leads him on, the actions are mutual." Tabitha's eyes widened in shock, surprised to hear anyone say something so, so....old age. Did this priest really think that she was to blame for what happens to her?

"Quite frankly, I would have to disagree. Tess didn't have a choice, if it wasn't for her duty to her family I do think she would have left with his behavior towards her."

"She had entertained his behavior, better yet it was because of her that he wanted to make a move in the first place. Maybe if she had watched herself, she would not have had to live her life in turmoil." The young girl turned in his direction now, watching him with narrow eyes. "Is that what you really believe, Reverend Foley? That she is to blame for his actions?"

Stephen looked at her now, her hair now half dry, its thickness showing, the determined look in her eyes. "It was the way she looked at him."

Confused, she needed to hear this one, "What?"

Now he stood up, getting ready to head to the kitchen, "She should've never looked at him the way she did."

She was confused with his statement. People give eye contact all the time. Why would that be bad? What kind of priest was running this town? And how old was he to have such a mentality in the 90s?

He came back after ten minutes, two mugs in hand. He walked closer to Tabitha, to which she cowered back, not exactly sure why her body was reacting that way. She knew with no doubt that he took notice, but he just handed her the mug, looking at her with weary eyes before taking a seat on the chair she was on before.

Looking down at what he gave her, Tabitha took in the scent of the hot cocoa he made. It was nice, but she wondered if she could trust him. Of course, her mind argued, he's a priest he can't do anything to her, right? Slowly turning back, she saw him looking into the fire, taking a sip of the hot drink. She took notice of how the fire reflected in his eyes, he looked especially sinister like that.

Turning back, she took a sip of the beverage, immediately melting inside from the warmth.

There was another awkward moment of silence between them, the younger not sure of how she wanted to address the elder after what he had last said. Nonetheless, her parents taught her well, she should just thank him and wish him a good night, hoping he would leave her down here to sleep.

She got up, standing right in from of him; even sitting, he managed to be taller than her. Oh well, that was the curse of having two short parents.

"Father Foley, thank you for your kindness you've shown me today. You didn't have to do anything for me, but I thank you either way. I'm also sorry for my behavior towards you the last time we met. It was uncalled for, and I hope you'll forgive me for that."

His eyes raked up her small figure, seeing through the fire her body silhouette under his shirt. The small of her waist, to the curve of her breast, he looked into her eyes, wide with innocence as she thanked and apologized to him. He wasn't expecting her to do so, but inside he was grateful. Maybe she found the error of her ways, realizing that she was wrong in what she was doing, but he knew that wasn't it.

If she wasn't in this situation with him, she'd be ignoring him like always. Whenever he would head to the shop or go talk with her grandmother, she would go out of her way to avoid him, as if he was going to do something to her. The only thing he was upset about wasn't that she did that, but it was the fact he questioned himself, was he? Would he try to do something to her?

She was the only one who could look him straight in the eyes and make him question everything he believed about himself before.

Stephen took his time to stand up, she took a step back, the shadows from the fire made his entire face look evil now, his face straight. "Do you know why I said that?" Her eyebrows furrowed, not sure of what he was talking about. "Why I said she should not have looked at him like that?" Tabitha shook her head, now wanting to get away from the situation. She took her to leave by sitting on the chair, hoping he too would take a seat. At this point, she still looked at him straight on, hoping he would back off.

What he did instead, she wasn't expecting.

He walked even closer to her, bending down. Now both arms were on either side of the chair, trapping her in. His face moved closer to hers, now a few inches away. She took in a breath, wondering if she could maybe jump off and run for it now. She was a good runner, sprinter. Perhaps in no time, she could reach her grandmother's if she went for it now, but there was no place for her to move.

Stephen saw she was scared of him now, and enough he felt himself get off on it. Was he a sinister man, not by any means, but there was just something about this girl....he couldn't pinpoint it?

"The only time a girl should look at a man in that manner is when she's his wife. Otherwise, she would be like a lady of the night." Her face changed before him, from fearful to annoyed.

"Are you serious? A woman shouldn't look at a man unless they are married? What type of bullshit is that?" His eyes now were wide in surprise. No one has ever used such language in front of him, albeit a young woman.

Without thinking it through, his large hand flew, hitting her straight in the face. It was the only thing heard in that house. He started to breathe harshly, now realizing what he had done. She was still, her face turned sideways, redness forming in the shape of his hand on the spot.

His feet started to move no coherent thought formed in his mind. He got an icepack, going back to the young girl, and put it on her face.

"T-Tabitha, I'm sorry. I didn't realize what I was doing, but that should have never happened." The girl didn't say anything, only touching his hand, which he was using to hold the icepack to the bruise.

Maybe she pushed too far, but was she surprised? From the beginning, she knew he seemed to have a short fuse. Besides, cursing in front of a priest wasn't a wise choice. And he was sorry, right? It wasn't like she wasn't going to tell her grandmother if that's what he was worried about. She would have to admit to her language in front of him, which would disappoint her grandmother.

After another ten minutes of holding the ice to her face, he removed it, looking at the spot in question. His finger lightly brushed over the skin, her body flinched against him. Her skin was still a little red, but he knew there was going to be no bruise.

His fingers rubbed over the skin for a moment longer before moving away. "You can sleep in my room tonight. Don't worry. I'll stay somewhere else." Finally, her face turned towards him, but a ton of emotions swirled in her eyes, confused about what to do. No, her brain screamed, just do as he said, he won't do anything. He's sorry about it.

She nodded, walking back up the stairs muttering a soft goodnight.

When she was out of sight, he sat back down, anger fuming over his body. How could he let a girl allow him to lose his emotions in such a way? He was angry about how the loss of control he was, all because of one small girl, he thought.

Stephen stayed there for an hour, looking at the fire dissipating. The raindrops fell softer. The night was waning in. He decided he too should take his rest, let the emotions leave his body. He decided to head to his room, just for a moment. All he needed was a change of clothes and to make she Tabitha was alright.

Entering his room, he saw the young girl in his bed, sleeping soundly, uncovered but shivering. He knew he should just leave her, already causing enough trouble, but he still felt like doing this small act would make him the good guy. Taking his steps forward, he lifted her legs, pulling the heavy blankets over her. Instead of just taking his clothes as intended, he took a seat near his desk, looking at her sleeping figure. Never in his lifetime, he thought a girl would be in his bed, wearing his clothes. His fingers rubbed on the light scruff growing on his cheeks.