My Anti-hero Fairy System-Chapter 69. The Reverend’s Secret

Before the door swung open, she dropped to the floor and squeezed herself under the Reverend’s desk. Her heart pounded as she pressed her body against the shadows, trying to make herself invisible.

A few seconds later, two men stepped into the office. Holding her breath, Cara listened closely. One of the voices was unmistakable, Reverend Franklin. The other belonged to someone younger, softer, unfamiliar.

Peering through a small gap in the desk’s woodwork, Cara caught her first glimpse of the Reverend’s companion. He was a slender young man, barely out of his teens, his features strikingly handsome.

Curious, Cara reached out with her mind, intending only to gauge how long they planned to stay. But what she found made her stomach twist. The Reverend’s thoughts were filled with lustful anticipation, his mind already undressing the boy, fantasizing about all the ways he planned to take him, right there in his office.

Cara recoiled, disbelief washing over her. ’This can’t be happening. He’s a homophobic preacher, for Christ’s sake. No way.’

[The Reverend definitely wants to sleep with that young man.]

’It can’t be. It just can’t be,’ Cara thought, almost willing herself to be wrong.

Hagrit’s laughter echoed in her mind. Cara clenched her jaw and was about to read the young man’s thoughts when movement drew her attention.

Reverend Franklin reached out, grabbing the young man’s ass possessively before delivering a sharp slap. The young man didn’t flinch. Instead, he smirked and leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to the Reverend’s lips.

"Reverend," the young man murmured between kisses, "you know I charge extra whenever we do it in your office."

[Wait, the young man is a prostitute? Damn.]

Cara ignored Hagrit and, with careful precision, retrieved her phone. She angled the camera through the small opening in the desk, recording the scene unfolding before her.

Reverend Franklin pulled away, his expression dark with desire. "And you should know by now that money is not a problem," he murmured, his fingers trailing over the young man’s crotch. "Besides, this is just a warm-up for the main event."

Miguel giggled, a teasing lilt in his voice. "Whatever you say. You’re the boss."

"Call me daddy," the Reverend ordered, his grip tightening.

"Yes, daddy," Miguel whispered, a soft moan escaping him.

As Miguel kissed him again, his hands roamed over the Reverend’s member, stroking it gently, growing bolder. Cara clenched her teeth, feeling sick. She prayed this nightmare wouldn’t escalate any further.

A sharp knock at the door shattered the moment. Both men sprang apart, hastily adjusting themselves.

From outside, a voice called, "Sir, we need you to bless the offerings."

Reverend Franklin cleared his throat, smoothing down his shirt and zipping up his zipper. "I’ll be there in a minute."

Turning back to Miguel, he said, "Let’s finish this at the motel."

Miguel grinned. "Yes, daddy. I’ll be waiting for you."

They exchanged a final kiss before exiting the office together.

Cara remained hidden for two full minutes, waiting to ensure the coast was clear. Once she was certain, she crawled out from beneath the desk, adrenaline still coursing through her veins.

Without wasting another second, she unlocked the door and slipped out unnoticed. She moved quickly, her mind still reeling, her hands clenched tightly around her phone.

As she walked past the usher, he suddenly pulled her into a tight hug.

Caught off guard, Cara jerked back, shoving him away. "Don’t you ever do that again," she snapped, eyes flashing with irritation.

The usher looked genuinely remorseful. "Sorry, ma’am," he muttered, stepping back.

Cara didn’t acknowledge him further. She strode back to her seat, her pulse still erratic.

The moment she sat down, Farrah leaned in and whispered, "Where have you been?"

Cara barely glanced at her. "I went to the ladies’ room. What did I miss?" she asked, feigning disinterest.

"Nothing much," Farrah said, lowering her voice. "We’ve already given our offerings—"

But Cara had already zoned out, her attention locked onto Reverend Franklin. He stood at the front of the congregation, his voice filled with practiced authority, his hands raised in prayer.

Her stomach churned. She could still hear his voice from earlier, still see the way he had touched that boy. Bile rose in her throat, and for a moment, she thought she might actually throw up.

Farrah nudged her. "Cara?"

Snapping back to the present, Cara forced herself to focus. "Huh?"

"I said, we’ve already given our offerings," Farrah repeated.

Cara barely processed the words. "Oh. Right. How do I give mine now?" she asked, grasping at the only piece of information she had caught.

Farrah gave her a curious look but shrugged. "You can give it after service."

"Ok, I will do that," Cara said, still processing what she had just witnessed.

[So how are you going to use what you have uncovered today?]

’I will use it just right. I am going to ruin this hate monger."

—----

—----

That afternoon, Cara stepped into the nearly empty diner, her gaze immediately locking onto Jackie’s. The surprise in Jackie’s eyes was obvious, but it quickly softened into something more familiar.

A smile played on Jackie’s lips as she said, "I thought you wouldn’t show up today."

Cara approached her with a smirk. "Well, I promised you I’d be here, didn’t I?"

Jackie folded her arms, tilting her head. "You did, but it’s Sunday. Most waitresses take the day off—and I can’t blame them."

"I’m not like most," Cara replied smoothly. "My word is bond." Without another word, she turned and made her way to the staff changing room.

Jackie watched her go, a flicker of something unreadable in her expression before she followed. Once inside, she leaned against the locker and said, "So, tell me—what really happened that day? You just disappeared, and I had everyone looking for you."

Cara didn’t hesitate. "Sorry. I thought I had a lead that could help me solve a case I’m investigating, but it turned out to be a dead end. I went home and got sick." She delivered the lie effortlessly, as if she’d rehearsed it over and over.

Jackie studied her, her gaze sharp and unwavering. "Come on, Cara," she said quietly. "Did you really get sick? I know you didn’t get sick"

Cara felt a flicker of unease. *Wait a minute—can she tell when I’m lying?*