The next morning...

The night passed swiftly like a summer breeze on the beach.

Jude punished the both rebellious inmates Kit and Grace as she canned with her whip sonly committed inmate who was falsely accused in killing women, counting his wife Alma.

After canning and punishing them sufficiently as the pain prevailed their bodies especially in Kit's case, they fled sooner the office, leaving Jude totally desolated as she was all alone with her thoughts and prejudices as always and all over again.

On one hand, she was relieved as her memory faded some of the brutal flashbacks from the night of the exorcism. On other hand, something overwhelmed her unpleasantly. Not only of Jed's words he addressed her, moreover the prejudices that she had of Timothy as she thought he would abandoned her and think her of a murderer or the whore she used to be before her nunnery.

She sat back on her desk, checking some inmates' documents to distract herself from the mortifying recollected memories even flashbacks, paying attention to the documents' details as she put on her nose her eyeglasses.

All of a sudden, a mild door tap interrupted her as she removed her eyeglasses right away, placing them on the desk with the documents as she saw the same tall masculine figure that stood in front of her office the night before. It was actually Timothy.

She wasn't surprised at all as she expected his presence in this morning.

"Yes?" She exclaimed plainly as she allowed him to move in her office as he shut down the door immediately.

"Hi, Sister." He greeted warmly as he sat beside her desk as she left away the important documents. A boyish, sheepish smile curled up in the corner of his plump lips.

"Hi, Father." She said shyly as a girlish, cute smile emerged on her face. 

"Do you mind if I call you Judy or just Jude instead of Sister, don't you?"

"Sure." She agreed as her smile slightly spread across her lips.

"Good. Then you wouldn't mind to call me just Timothy, right?"

"Absolutely." She nod her head, murmuring as her voice sounded almost like a whisper.

"How are you, Jude?"

"I am fine. And you?"

"I am good."

***

Later tonight...

Jude was all alone in her office once the night hours approached when all inmates were already in their cells. Her dim light room illuminated her silhouette as it resembled a petite figure from outside, where the storm brewed viciously, lighting bolts jolted down the ground, encircling the old, eerie facade.

She was fed up with the wring thoughts and flashbacks from the night prior as she had a solution to her problem. The Martin family cure!

She was feeling particularly impotent to allow the possessed young man's harsh words hurting her conscience anymore. Her single, old salvation was the alcohol. Back in her sinful, naïve life, she tried to heal her wounds and scars from her first real romantic relationship with a man who left her. However, the alcohol rendered the things much worse. Thanks to her boozing in her younger years, not only she lisped as she sang songs' lyrics not correctly, moreover Terry, the man who hired her in his band opted to help her to give up her unhallowed addiction, as a result of his failure to persuade her. In addition to, she lost her job, thanks to her intoxicated nights and a night when she missed to sing with her jazz band.

Her final decision was to booze like never before. Just like her fifteen years life prior.

For this purpose, an empty glass stood on her desk. But there was another issue. She should enter in her en-suite bedroom where she spends every cold, compulsively lonely, unloving nights to delve in one of the drawers for a bourbon. Nights without a male company with whom she shared one night stands back in her former life: the nightclub singer's one. A former life where mammoth hands encircled her waist, soft lips pressed on her, emitting low, sensual moans, one body pressed to another, smooth skins contact as their muscles moved, grinded and rubbed.

Once she entered in her en-suite bedroom, delving in one of the drawers as she found the bourbon, she took the bottle, a drawer full of secrets, where she kept one of the diabolic elements as God supervised every action of the pious woman. Therefore she reentered her office as she sat on her desk, pouring some bourbon to taste from the sinful, lip-smacking alcoholic beverage. The alcohol was another demon that haunted Jude just like a devilish beast. A demon haunting her since her youth.

She licked greedily her lips as she watched the poured bourbon as its aroma reached her nostrils, satiating her unsatisfactory. Absent years without seeping of alcohol beverage. All Jude wanted is to savor, relish the lonely moment just by herself with a glass of bourbon. Her fingers reached up for the poured glass of bourbon, caressing the glass, like a mother fondling her newborn child's head. Nothing more mattered to her now!

She grabbed the glass as she closed her eyes as she ignored God's judging glares and warnings, gulping instantly the bourbon just in one sip. After drinking such unbearable, hardly acceptable quantity as it was completely forbidden, breaking one of her vows, she felt much better though she needed more. Her body required more bourbon. Something sweet. Something forbidden. Just like the serpent and the apple in Eden's garden. Lodging herself on forbidden, wicked addictions that toyed with her.

Her vision acquired its blurriness, barely beholding the things lucidly.

She didn't give up as well. She poured one more glass of bourbon, gulping it instantly in a handful of sips, tasting the burning alcohol in her body. Licking her lips, savor the mouth-watering stained alcohol liquor.

She felt her body betraying her as the alcohol and boozing conquering her ultimately. Her head collapsed on her desk, her hands relaxed downward as she closed reluctantly her eyes. Her retentions were readily wasted. The border line was already crossed.

As she fell asleep in a deep, sweet, boozed slumber, suddenly somebody knocked on her office's door, awaiting for her response.

It was the Monsignor himself, of course. He yelled her name a few times, tapping lightly on the door.

"Jude?"

Something was wrong. No responses. Nothing. He yelled her name slightly louder than moments ago.

"Jude? Jude?" He rapped on the door faintly louder, tougher than before.

Then he prayed inwardly if she was alright, peeping through the door's glass, noting her asleep condition.

What he thought at first was to not disturb her, violating her personal space and serenity. But then something urged him to go and check her as he snuck up in her office, despite her absenting response.

He just placed a hand on the doorknob, pressing it as he entered in her office, shutting the door immediately as he locked it.

"Jude? I am here." He carried on as his words were completely useless, not helping to fix the situation.

No reply again. He raised an eyebrow when he slowly walked up to her desk, looking down as he was beyond panicked to behold the nun sleeping on her desk as there was an empty glass with a bottle of bourbon, sitting on her wooden desk.

He scratched nervously his head, sped up to her to rock her shoulders.

"Jude, are you alright?"

After rocking her shoulders, there was no reaction from her side. It infuriated the young priest even more as he felt almost powerless over her unconsciousness. A dissatisfied sigh exempted from the top of his lungs.

"Come on, rare bird!" He rocked her shoulders again, despite his frequent failure.

Then something urged him to lift her body in a bridal lift to her bedroom, setting her on her bed though he would feel peccant for touching different part of her body than her hand. It's his first time touching either a woman or a nun somewhere else different than her hand. He needed to lift her, despite their positions especially his as he should conform the rough circumstances.

***

Timothy was sitting alongside Jude's motionless slumbering body. He looked out blankly as he scrutinized her en-suite bedroom, connected to her office.

He didn't know what else to do as he wanted to protect Jude and make sure she's alright, acknowledging her health and safety rather than anything else that didn't matter to him anymore since he beheld his right hand, his rare bird so vulnerable, fragile in this unconscious, intoxicated condition. It was against her took vows, her reputation and everything inside the church.

Initially he flinched when he heard her stirring up as she stretched her arms, releasing a mere yawn as bourbon's breath outspread, pinching Timothy's soft, pale face. His chocolate eyes looked down at her face as she woke up with a light headache that tormented her head, gasping in low pain.

She rubbed with fists her drowsy eyes, thereafter opening them fully as she looked around her surroundings as she saw Timothy seating on her bed, arching an eyebrow in puzzled way when she noticed his presence.

"Oh my god!" She exclaimed still intoxicated.

"You are awake. I am so relieved." Timothy said calmly.

"T-Timothy?" Jude asked as she pursed her lips nervously as their eyes met, her elbows propping her weight as she rose her torso.

"What are you supposed to do here?" She continued, fixing her wimple.

"Well, Jude! I wanted to visit your office, despite I didn't get an answer firstly, therefore I entered in your office as I realized you were intoxicated, fell asleep as I rocked your shoulders twice but you didn't react. Then I lifted you to there, helping you." He paused as he tried to catch his breath. "Initially, I thought it was an awful idea to sneak in your office as you were unconscious due to the alcohol I saw on your desk with an emptied glass. Throughout I contrived as I cannot help but unable to leave you vulnerable and defeated by your old sinful addiction. I just cannot, Jude." He kept on with his confession. He would feel remorses otherwise if he left Jude all alone in her office, laying on her desk like a rag doll.

"Oh." She scratched her head nervously, giving him a coy, bashful small smile spread across her lips. "I haven't been expecting you so far, Timothy. I am truly sorry." She apologized. "For what did you come for?" She questioned concerned.

"I wanted to see if you were alright but..." He lingered as he exhaled. "I don't want to appear brash, but all I know is that you've been drinking again." He furthered humbly though courageously. "Or to be exact, the drinking is toying with you again."

After hearing these cruel, repulsive words, coming from the person she admired and liked mostly, she felt more uneasy but she liked his sincerity and implying some kind of care to her. She abided in deep hush, searching for the right words to the right words to tell him, justify herself from his words that clawed her heart as she wasn't sober at all. Instead of answering his words, a hand moved back to her wimple, dragging it from her head as it barely covered her hair. Once she released her pinned up glossy golden hair from the conservative, wool dark wimple, she situated down her wimple on the pillow as Timothy was beyond shocked to behold nun with hair, released from a head cloth.

"Jude, please."

"It's just hair, Timothy." She responded serenely, offering him a serene, refined smile.

He swallowed hard after her firm like a tough cookie response, opting to not admire her grace.

Raving of feelings he felt now. He wanted to punish her just like she does with them, canning them mercilessly as they bended on her desk as he didn't know what she would feel if she put herself in their shoes. Or rather, he has a better decision upto her reoccurred peccant addiction. Instead of punishing her, the diplomacy and the dialogue solved.

Jude scrutinized the younger priest before her. Her hazel eyes locked with his chocolate, developing an intense eye contact in the lurking dark bedroom as the bedroom's small wall window was the sole source of light. Dim moonlight illuminated partly the room with nocturnal light.

What she sensed in Timothy was actually his flustered, agitated condition. It was peculiarly evident that he hasn't been so close to a woman ever in his life. He has always been friends with women but never sharing with them something more than a friendship. Jude didn't want to refrain as her boldness prevail her abstinence to ask him about his current condition. Condition, concealed a priest with his own needs and desires.

"What makes you so nervous, Timothy? Spill the tea." Jude inquired concerned.

"I have never sat on a nun bed never before." He admitted.

"Oh, it's apparent." She exclaimed. "Would you like a drink?" She offered him some bourbon as she knew right away he will reject, despite her kindness.

"No, thank you." Timothy responded shyly. "The old demon is still playing with your voracious needs, Jude. And do you know what's the solution?" He asked diplomatically as Jude swallowed a hard lump in her throat, expecting the worst. She thought he is going to fire her, strip her off her position. Position, fated by God as he gave her a second chance to continue her grim life. In his holy house. Under his roof. She couldn't imagine her life on the street and all alone. It was an ill prejudicial thought, nauseating her absent-minded mind.

"What is?" She shook her head, responding to him boldly as she was uncertain with his questioning.

"Well, God knows and sees everything. He gives chances to everyone so that to accomplish happiness and find a path to the light." He paused as he looked down at her face as he was unable to resist her charm anymore, a colossal hand reaching up to her lukewarm, smooth cheek. She felt his softness, warmness beneath his palm, cupping her right one. "Everybody has sinned. God forgave them as he listened to their stories and questions, granting them the answers they're looking for. I would like to listen to your story. The story about the woman you were before the church and solemnly marrying herself to God."

"Unfortunately, you will be pretty disappointed if you hear about this woman, named Judy Martin. You will be disgusted by this woman." She evoked as her words sounded like a deserted whisper. She thought about the pending circumstances once when she exposes her past in front of Timothy, realizing the fact she would break his heart.

In spite of Timothy ignored God's glares and judgmental warnings, his thumb rubbed on circles her cheekbone as it wasn't his first time touching delicately Jude's face. He solely has touched women's hands and faces in his life as he would be, otherwise, ungodly disloyal man not only to his long career as a priest and his marriage to God, but also breaking his vows.

Jude never felt so good as Timothy cupped her cheek, kneading her cheekbone. His thumb kneaded its sleek skin in delicate and loving way. She thought he tries to soothe her after her pessimism, doubting he would dare to behold and talk to her ever again. Especially after listening to her story. Thanks to the caress she yearned for if it's the smallest even, she cordially appreciated and loved it.

It has been years as she recalled how every man who slept with her were simply just using her youthful, gorgeous body for their own needs. Her one night stand lovers were rough and didn't care about her feelings. Timothy was just much different man. Affectionate, candid, bashful, careful but honest and caring one too. A man she has always desired for. It wasn't occasional, she felt in love with him from first sight a couple of years ago.

"Jude, I doubt it. You are a strong woman with a golden heart." His thumb slowly kneaded her cheekbone as she blink, relishing the moment of the touch and his velvety voice jingling in her ears rang, chilling her body, sending shivers down her frail skeleton of sweetness and serenity. A small, demure smile shaped on Jude's pale face once she heard his encouraging, gracious words. "I could hardly imagine you as a bad person." He furthered bravely, stimulating her valor as her hesitation halted, freeing a room from her burdening heart.

"Well," She started as shortly before continuing with her monologue, she inhaled. "I was a mere woman. With her sorrows, desires and wishes. I grew with a single mother, who passed away when I wasn't even 20 years old." Tears commenced building in her slightly haze hazel eyes, almost ready to snuffle and bawl her eyes when she recalled her painful and deplorable young years as a child and teenager even her young adulthood. "When I was only 20 years old, I fell in love with a man named Casey. We were together for almost two years. I thought he loved me. I thought he was a fine man. But no." She paused as she took her time to wipe her cascading tears from of her tear stained, mildly ruddy face. "I was absolutely wrong about this man. He didn't love me as he proved it with a foul infidelity."

Timothy took her sole free hand into his as it perfectly fit a large one with smaller. He didn't peel a word as he paid utterly attention to her words as he was incapable to hold back his already shaped tears. He was almost prepared to weep with her. Experiencing along the misery.

"Not only his infidelity hurt me so much and ruining my life, furthermore, he took away my fertility as I couldn't have his children. I forgave him. When I informed him one day that he infected me with syphilis, he called me a liar and a whore. Then he left me and I became the whore he called me. The sinful, randy woman who sleeps around with younger men, bousing and numbing myself with the alcohol to endure the pain, mourn and loneliness I have had. One day, I woke up in my vomit and I wanted to move somewhere else as I experienced a car accident, therefore establishing in St.Andrews where I became a nun until nowadays." She wiped her moisten tears from her eyes with a thumb, sniffing quietly.

Timothy was beyond overwhelmed to hear her story especially beholding his rare bird in a much different light. Light, where she isn't the strict, diligent and unabashed nun who he saw every day on their work place where's actually their current home. He wasn't disgusted by her. He was devilishly resentful by the destiny she had being granted back then. Timothy refrained from crying though he needed to. The young priest comprehended the nun's monologue as he put himself in her shoes, imagining a dark past like hers.

"When Casey left me, I fought with a great depression and thinking of committing suicide. I tried but I failed, fortunately. God gave me a candle of light to the life, giving me a second chance."

After Jude's monologue, Timothy wiped her dried tears from her face with a thumb. He irresistibly gazed at Jude's lightly tear stained face with her, admiring her outer and inner beauty. A broader smile formed on his lips after listening to her bittersweet speech. It broke his heart how unfairly treated she was by her fiancé and the past she had.

"It's not your fault, Jude. God forgave your sins and gifted you with a light to the life to continue your duty to serve for God and your life." Timothy elucidated his view point as she listened attentively his words as she was lucky to be studious even with dazed, intoxicated mind. "I am not the person who judges you. Only God can judge us! But it fascinates me how you stayed still strong woman with a goodwill."

"I haven't thought about it." She admitted. "Timothy?"

"Yes, Jude?"

"Do you have a story to share...with me?" A hand moved up to her hair backward, removing her hair pin as she placed it on the nightstand, fanning up her long honey strands. Timothy's eyes widened when he saw her spilled hair around her, shaping a sacred halo as it framed her beautiful face with its gorgeous features, attempting to not admire her beauty so hard, despite his abrupt failure. The young priest swallowed hard when he saw Jude's hair released not only from her wimple, but also in a full profile with her face. She looked like a pure, lovely angel, into his eyes. His eyes were in awe, trying to pay attention to Jude's inquiry though he ignored it as his focus moved up to her physical appeal.

"Timothy? Do you have a story to share with me?" She questioned once again as she held his hand yet.

"Do you want to?" He responded her with a rhetorical question as a sheepish smile illuminated his face.

"If you are feeling the urge to, then yes."

He nod his head, hence, inhaling as he tried to concentrate more on his speech rather than the nun's beauty.

"If I need to be sincere," He commenced with his monologue, looking down at Jude's beautiful face, smiling to her as a coy smile shaped on his face. He sensed shyness enveloping his heart, disguised in holiness. "I have married myself to God from very young age. I have never been intimate and having romantic relationship with a woman. They have never attracted me and I never paid any attention to them." He kept on as his honesty prevail his shyness. "My parents were pious. I have grown in an aristocratic and tremendously pious family, where God and the church is everything."

Jude hummed silently as her hum was barely discernible, however, Timothy was lucky to hear her melodic hum, a boyish smile lit up his face to watch her like that. So beautiful. So elegant. So precious. He has never seen and perceived a woman like that until he met Jude. The chosen sister for him by Mother Claudia and he was implicitly right. She's his right hand. His rara avis. Timothy was unable to go on as her humming, her beauty were far distracting, toying with his sacred body, mind and heart. They were the demons that were haunting the young priest, freezing his mind with impure thoughts about the nun in front of him, unable to escape it. It was way too late. He was trapped not only by her presence, furthermore by her melodic hum, her grace. He wondered from where she has inherited such magnificent voice. Abundance of haze questions span around his mind in the dull universe.

Jude listened to him vigilantly, scarcely daring to interrupt Timothy as otherwise she could disrespect him, thereafter hurting him horridly with her impatience and lack of respect. She wasn't surprised at all due to the fact Timothy's still virgin and he has earmarked almost his whole life to be part of the church and serving as a God's servant for twenty and five years. She was with ten years older than him but their attraction was wildly visible. It was murderously obvious.

"But only one woman was able to break this hallowed curse on me. I call her..." In this time, Jude's ears sharpened like a bat, her eyes widely-opened, bit her lip nervously like a schoolgirl as she was utterly focused on this fragment. "...a rare bird. My right hand." He said very softly as these words molten the nun's frail, easily-melting heart after hearing such words. Words which she has never being addressed honestly by anyone. The men addressed her with dirty nicknames for women, whose bodies being trifled sexually for a few hours or a whole night. Additionally, Jude sensed pride enveloping her heart and heating sensation inside her body of pleasure and joy as she felt extremely lucky as she was the first woman who rendered Timothy's head over heels in mystically magnifying way. Furthermore, Timothy was aroused as his crouch tightened when he called Jude his rare bird and staring her, admiring her ethereal beauty. Beauty he hasn't noted in another women until he met Jude.

"It's you, Jude."

When Jude heard these sweet words attacking her mind, her pride lit up its in brighter hue. She sensed her folds already moisten lightly. She bit her bottom lip bashfully again as she gazed at him, noticing his chocolate eyes wandering up and down her petite, slender figure that was coated in Catholic shapeless attires. A coy, bright smile shaped across her rosy-coloured lips, her cheeks heating.