Father Tony was now in a panic.
Despite being a mere sixty-year-old who had indeed lived a bit of a rakish life with Tom lately, he surely didn't deserve to end up in this situation...
At this moment.
Father Tony was handcuffed backward to the head of a soft, large bed.
Lying beside him was Tom, still unconscious.
"Tom, wake up..."
"We're going to get screwed over..."
"Think of something, quick!"
Father Tony was in tears, acutely aware of the fate that awaited him.
In a little while, the high-ranking Voodoo Cult member who wanted to have his way with Tom and himself was supposed to arrive.
Before.
Father Tony had someone investigate and had seen a photograph of the old man.
Not only was he about the same age, but he was also dark, skinny, and extremely short, looking very sleazy.
To be done by such a man...
No, wrong...
To be done by any man was something Father Tony could not accept.
And at that moment.
Suddenly, a series of footsteps came from the doorway.