Confessions: Julien (Confessions Series Book 2)

by Ella Frank

  “Oh, sorry,” Robbie muttered, as Julien moved back up to a proper standing position. “I didn’t mean for you to stop. I didn’t mean for you to hear me at all.”

  “It’s okay, princesse. I was done anyway.”

  Robbie walked over to him, his eyes moving up and down Julien’s fit form, and then he blurted out the first thing that came to mind: “Just how flexible are you? You were practically kissing the floor just then.”

  Julien grabbed the gym towel that was hanging over the back of one of the barstools and ran it over his face. “Well, it’s probably easier to show you than to tell you.”

  Robbie’s eyes widened and he nodded eagerly, remembering what Priest had said about Julien and yoga: “It’s very…erotic to watch. I recommend it.” Then he took a seat on the couch, crossing his legs under himself as Julien moved back to the center of the mat.

  Without a word, Julien bent back in half to the position he’d been in a minute ago, but then he slowly raised his left leg to a 180-degree angle, his toes pointing up to the ceiling.

  “Holy fucking shit,” Robbie said, his eyes widening as Julien’s pants stretched over his perfect ass. He then uncrossed his legs and got to his feet, walking closer to Julien, unbelieving of what he was seeing. “That pose is…”

  Julien turned his head and aimed his eyes up at Robbie, who opened his mouth to speak, but instead angled his head to get a better look, his words escaping him.

  Julien then brought his leg back down and straightened. “It’s a standing split,” he explained.

  “It’s fucking fantasy inspiring, is what it is. I feel as though I’m suddenly going to become a morning person if I get to watch that.”

  Julien nodded but said nothing as he crouched down to roll up the yoga mat and then took it over to a basket that sat in the far corner of the room. He was quieter than usual this morning, just as Priest had warned, and for the first time since he’d met Julien, Robbie could feel the tension rolling off him.

  “So…” Robbie said, thinking that if he talked, maybe he could help clear Julien’s mind a little. “Priest told me about the opening and maybe inviting some friends along. Are you sure about that? I don’t need two tables. One would be fine.”

  “Non. I allocated two,” Julien said, and then headed to the kitchen. “Unless you think you can only fill the one?”

  “Are you kidding?” Robbie said, and took a spot on one of the barstools. “Everyone I know is going to be fighting for these spots.”

  “Bien. Then two it is.” Julien went about filling a glass of water and gulping it down, and then he got himself a second.

  “And they each seat four, yes?”

  “Oui.”

  “Okay,” Robbie said, and tapped his fingers on the counter. He wanted to keep Julien talking for a bit to see if he was in the mood to share about the dream he’d had last night. But at the same time, Robbie didn’t want to push too hard and too fast and seem nosey.

  Luckily, Julien decided to speak up first. “I also want to talk to you about next weekend. If that’s okay?”

  “Of course,” Robbie said.

  “Would you like a coffee first?” Julien asked. “Priest left some in the pot.”

  “Oh, sure, let me grab one.” Robbie jumped down off his stool and came around to the cabinet he’d seen Priest get his mugs out of. Once he’d filled one, he went to walk back to his seat, but Julien stopped him with a hand on his arm.

  “You take cream and sugar in yours, right?”

  “Oui, merci,” Robbie said automatically, and Julien’s eyes crinkled at the sides, a smile tipping the corners of his lips for the first time that morning.

  “You’re good at picking up languages. Not everyone has an ear for it.”

  “Well, you say certain things all the time, so they’re easy enough to remember. The phrases? They’re a little harder.”

  “Still, some people never feel comfortable with a new language rolling off their tongue.”

  Robbie pressed a kiss to Julien’s cheek and said, “I told you, I like French things in my mouth.”

  Julien chuckled softly and nodded. “So you did.”

  “Yep. So, okay,” Robbie said, and got serious as he walked back to take his seat. “What do we need to talk about?”

  “Right. You work tonight, don’t you?” Julien took an apple from the fruit basket by the coffee machine, washed it, and then came back over to the island.

  “Oui, I do,” Robbie said with a grin.

  “Okay, I just wanted to let you know the dates and times for next week so you could talk to your boss and make sure it’s not going to be a problem.”

  Robbie reached across the counter for Julien’s hand and squeezed it. “It’ll be fine. Tate’s an awesome boss, and as long as I can get someone to cover for me, or move things around, he won’t care.”

  “Tate is…Logan’s husband?”

  “Yeah,” Robbie said, and laughed a little. “That sounds so strange. But yes, he is. And I haven’t seen him since they got back from their honeymoon.”

  Julien frowned, and Robbie cocked his head to the side. “Jules? Is something wrong?”

  “Non. Non. I was just thinking it would be better if I wasn’t the reason you had to change your schedule on his first day back.”

  “Trust me, Tate won’t care. He’s…how do I say this? He’s a good guy.” Robbie shook his head. “That sounds really simple and kind of lame. But I mean it in a much broader sense than it sounds. He cares. He’s all about family and looking after those he loves. It’s what makes him impossible to hate. Ugh, trust me, I tried.”

  “You talk highly of him,” Julien said. “You respect him.”

  “I do,” Robbie said, a little stunned by the admission. “I gave him a lot of shit when we first met, and he had every reason to be an asshole when I ran into them years later. But he wasn’t. He was really nice. I mean, he gave me a job, for God’s sake, trusted me to run The Popped Cherry, and he’s just a really cool guy.”

  Julien nodded. “As long as you’re sure you won’t get in trouble. I don’t want that.”

  “I won’t. I promise. As soon as I tell him it’s important, he’ll let me go.”

  “No questions asked?” Julien said, clearly not thrilled at the idea of his personal life being discussed with someone he didn’t know. But he had nothing to worry about. Robbie would never do that.

  “No questions asked.”

  Julien stared down at their hands and then widened his fingers so Robbie’s slipped between his, then he sighed. “Okay. The flight to L.A. is booked for Friday night. We should arrive around nine thirty, then we’ll head to my parents’ house.”

  “Wait,” Robbie said. “Your parents’ house? Will they be there?”

  “Unfortunately,” Julien said as he rubbed a hand over his brow as though his head were aching, which it probably was.

  “But…how are you going to explain— I mean, you’re married. I assume they know Priest?”

  “Oui, they know Priest,” Julien said, and his lips twisted into a grimace.

  “Then aren’t they going to wonder who I am?”

  Julien took a deep breath and let go of Robbie’s hand. He started pacing back and forth, his anxiety starting to fester to a point where he could no longer hide it. Then, finally, he stopped and looked back at Robbie, who was watching him closely.

  “Non,” Julien said, his voice colder than Robbie had ever heard it before. “My parents stopped caring about my life the day that Jacquelyn died. They don’t care that I’m married. They don’t care that I’m one of the top chefs in the world. And they wouldn’t care if I brought home ten men and had sex with them out in the cabana by the pool, because to them, I don’t exist. And that’s the way they like it.”

  Julien’s chest rose and fell with his agitation, and Robbie felt bad for having asked his question.

  “I’m sorry,” Robbie whispered.

  “Don’t be.” Julien locked eyes with Robbie’s
then, and they were flat—devoid of any emotion. And that look? It both frightened and saddened Robbie. “I deserve it.”

  Robbie shook his head, wanting to say more, but had no idea what. Not that it mattered anyway, since Julien seemed done with the conversation.

  As he walked off to the bedroom, his apple now forgotten on the counter, Robbie resisted the urge to call out to him. He wanted Julien to stop, to explain what had happened all those years ago so he could help him through it now. But his frustration, it was a selfish one, and Robbie remembered Priest’s words from the night before and repeated them on a loop in his head: Let him go. Let him do it his way and be there when he stops, when he finally looks for someone to lean on.

  So that was what Robbie did. He let Julien go. He sat there at that counter and ate his breakfast in silence, and it was one of the most difficult things he’d ever done in his life.

  Chapter Ten

  CONFESSION

  Familiar faces and familiar places

  can be both a blessing and a curse at times.

  MOST DAYS, PRIEST loved his job. It kept him busy enough that he had no time to think of anything else unless he ordered himself to. But today, he resented it. He hated that it had dragged him away from his men, when all he’d wanted was to spend it close by and make sure they were okay.

  He was working off the assumption right now that they were, since he hadn’t heard from either one of them. But that still didn’t make him feel any better, because while Robbie had been in a good mood when he’d left, Priest knew what he would’ve encountered with Julien afterward, and that was going to be a new one for Mr. Bianchi. Julien was hard enough for Priest to recognize when he got like this, but for Robbie? It was going to be eye-opening over the next two weeks, that was for sure.

  We did warn him, Priest told himself, as he entered his office and headed straight to his desk. But that still didn’t take away the niggling feeling he’d had all day that they’d somehow misled Robbie by not disclosing how fucked up they were before he’d become involved with them—but it was too late now.

  All day he’d been tied up in court, and each time he’d emerged, Priest had expected to see a text saying that this new relationship of theirs was over and that Robbie was moving out.

  But again, there were no missed calls and no texts. So maybe he’d underestimated Robbie. It wouldn’t be the first time. Robert Bianchi was surprising him at every turn. Including his little impromptu performance this morning. That, and the entire exchange yesterday in the closet after work, had been on Priest’s mind today.

  Who would’ve thought it? Their princess loved to serve.

  And seeing Robbie so at home in the kitchen with Julien last night, and then having Robbie undress him at Robbie’s own request? It was more than either of them could’ve ever hoped for, and Priest was becoming more and more beguiled by Robbie the more he was around.

  Priest glanced at the clock to see it was just closing in on four, and realized all he’d managed to grab today was a quick cup of coffee down at the courthouse—he was starving.

  Placing his briefcase down, he pulled out his chair and took a seat. On his desk was a pile of envelopes and a small, rectangular box waiting to be opened, and Priest knew exactly what it was without even picking it up—his new cell phone.

  He removed his old one from his pocket and quickly scrolled through several missed calls, emails, and texts—none of which were from Julien or Robbie—and once he’d decided they were issues that could wait an hour or so, he reached for the box and began opening the packaging.

  Fucking Jimmy, Priest thought, as he tore into the plastic to get to the box beneath. He’s the gift that just keeps on fucking giving.

  Once he had the box open and the new phone in hand, he grabbed the cord and plugged it all in. He’d have to call for the new number when he was ready to switch, but that shouldn’t be too much of a hassle.

  He placed the phone on his desk to let it charge, and then powered up his laptop, and once it was up and online, he typed in a search he hadn’t allowed himself to look at in years. As the results appeared, Priest scanned the titles flooding his page and felt sick to his stomach. God, this was the last thing they needed to be dealing with right now.

  He stared at page after page of Jimmy’s transgressions as though he were looking down the barrel of a gun, and he couldn’t help but wonder who, and what, was going to be responsible for pulling the trigger.

  He scrolled down the first page, past the articles detailing Jimmy’s arrest, trial, and incarceration, until he reached the reasons why all that had happened. It was four stories down on the first page: Notorious underboss and killer of 19 confesses his crimes.

  What a lovely way to phrase it, Priest thought, as he shut his eyes and brought his hands up to his face to press his fingers to his forehead. It was times like this—the quiet times—that he loathed more than anything else because that was when his mind went there. To the places no man should ever go.

  New Orleans.

  The heat. The humidity.

  The broken-down shack by the bayou.

  And the blood.

  All. That. Blood.

  Stop, Priest ordered himself as he opened his eyes and hit print on the article. Fucking stop. But even as he tried to shove the memories back into the cracks they’d crawled out of like roaches, he could hear his father’s voice in his head as though he was standing right in front of him: “Boy, there’s only two things in life that you should fear—me and God. And no matter how far you run or how well you hide, we’ll always find you, and when we do, you better hope one of us is in a forgivin’ kind of mood.”

  “Priest?” Logan’s voice, and knock on his door, was like a whip cracking with the way it made Priest jerk in his chair. “You in here?”

  Priest looked over to where Logan now filled the doorway and didn’t miss the flash of confusion that crossed his face.

  “Hey?” Logan said as he wandered in. “You okay?”

  Priest sat forward in his chair and clasped his hands on the desk to keep from balling them into fists. Keep it cool, he told himself. Don’t act fucking weird. Mitchell is too smart not to notice.

  “Yes,” Priest said, as Logan came to a stop opposite him and looked down at the new phone charging on his desk. “Everything’s fine. Is there something I can help you with?”

  Logan brought his eyes back up to meet Priest’s. “No. I was actually coming to let you know that Judge Walsh cancelled his docket for tomorrow. Something about food poisoning? You’ll be emailed your new date and time for the Bateman hearing.”

  “Okay,” Priest said, and when Logan just stood there, he added, “Was there something else?”

  “New phone?”

  Priest looked down at the packaging on his desk. “Yes. I’ll get you my new number as soon as I have it.”

  “Okay.” Logan’s eyes then shifted to the article now sitting on the printer, and he walked over and picked it up to hand to Priest. “This is an interesting case to be reading about. Are you taking on a crime boss that I don’t know about?”

  Priest reached for the paper and placed it on the desk facedown. “No. I just find it…fascinating.”

  “That it is,” Logan said as he unbuttoned his jacket and took a seat, and Priest had to fight every instinct he had not to ask him to get the hell out. “I remember going over his trial in law school.”

  Shit. That was the last thing Priest wanted to hear, and most definitely the last thing he wanted to talk about. After all, it wasn’t like he could say, I remember living it.

  When Priest remained tight-lipped and offered up nothing in way of a verbal or physical response, Logan frowned and said the one thing that Priest had hoped he wouldn’t.

  “Didn’t he have kids? Hell, I can’t remember all the details now, but I’m positive he had kids. What a waste of a human being. To go out and do his hits, and then come home for fucking dinner like everything was normal.” Logan shook his head. “I swe
ar, some people shouldn’t be locked up, they should just be put down. He’s one of those people.”

  “Agreed,” Priest finally said, his eyes pinned firmly on Logan, searching for any lights going off or any kind of recognition happening, but all he saw was agreement as Logan nodded. Because the one thing that the entire world and Priest agreed on was that his father was a monster.

  “So why are you reading about the gruesome underworld of New Orleans? Bored? Robbie not enough to keep you busy?”

  “Not bored, no,” Priest said, and racked his brain for a feasible reason to be checking out Jimmy’s old files. Then, picking up on Logan’s original inquiry, he said, “This case was what made me want to go into criminal law. I saw a documentary on it recently and wanted to take another look at it.” That wasn’t a complete lie. Jimmy was the reason he’d dedicated his life to putting the bad guys away, just not for the reasons Logan thought.

  To be sure he steered them away from that particular topic, though, Priest also picked up Logan’s other comment and ran with it. “As for Robert, he’s keeping Julien and me extremely busy. Especially now that he’s moved in.” And it worked like a charm.

  “Moved in?” Logan said, his eyebrows practically hitting his hairline, and then he caught himself. “I, ah, didn’t know things were that serious.”

  “They are,” Priest said, and he could tell by the tic in Logan’s jaw that his two-word answer irritated the shit out of the other lawyer. But it wasn’t like his avoidance of anything personal was something new, and his personal life now involving Robbie didn’t mean that would change.

  “That’s…” When Logan didn’t continue, Priest steepled his hands over his chest and waited, letting Logan’s brain catch up on what he’d just found out. “That’s great.”

  Priest inclined his head. “It is. He’s settling in very well.”

  “I’ve got to say, you have shocked the shit out of me twice now. And that’s not easy.”