Confessions: Priest (Confessions Series Book 3)

by Ella Frank

  Priest’s jaw locked tight as he shifted the gear stick into reverse. “Yes. He escaped yesterday morning.”

  Escaped? Fuck, Robbie thought, as he brought a hand up to cover his mouth. Even though he’d expected to hear something like that, having it confirmed somehow made it that much worse. So did the unasked question and answer lingering in the air between them.

  “Priest…where’s Jules?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  CONFESSION

  I never wanted any of this to happen.

  But I tempted fate, and the devil came my way.

  “PLEASE TALK TO me,” Robbie said as Priest backed the car out of its spot and drove them down the narrow road toward the main street.

  Robbie’s voice had been so soft that Priest had to look at him to make sure he hadn’t actually imagined it.

  “Julien—” Priest bit off his words and had to look away from Robbie, unable to look someone so innocent in the eye as he delivered such awful news. “He didn’t make it in to work today.”

  When Robbie said nothing, and they came to a stop at a red light, Priest forced himself to check on him. The quivering of his chin, the welling of tears in those eyes, had Priest’s rage returning like a roaring fire.

  How dare Jimmy come into their lives and cause such pain? How dare he make this beautiful man suffer?

  “Is he…” Robbie paused and swallowed. “Is he okay, Priest?”

  Priest wished he could say yes, wished he had a good answer for Robbie and himself, but he didn’t. And as his frustration and fury over that increased with every passing second, he reminded himself, Not yet. Not here with him. Use it to find Julien. Use it to hurt Jimmy.

  “I don’t know,” Priest said, wanting to be as honest as he could with the man putting his life in his hands. “But until I do, I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”

  “Oh God…Jules.”

  “I know,” Priest said, and reached for Robbie’s hand. “But do you trust me?”

  Robbie nodded, no hesitation whatsoever. “Yes. Of course.”

  “I’m going to take you to a hotel. We can’t go back to the condo, not right now.”

  “Why? Is that where—”

  “Yes,” Priest said, not wanting Robbie to put into words what Priest had deduced from that parking garage. “We need to go somewhere else right now. Jimmy knows that place, and it’s not safe.”

  Robbie wiped his hand on his pant leg over and over, and it hadn’t escaped Priest’s notice that Robbie’s hands had been shaking earlier. Sheer terror would do that to a person.

  “Shouldn’t we call the police?” Robbie said. “Or did you already do that?”

  Priest let go of his hand and wove them through the traffic heading to one of the most prestigious hotels in Chicago—The Peninsula—knowing they would have top-notch security there. “No. I didn’t call them. And before you worry that I’ve lost my mind, I promise you, I haven’t.”

  Priest glanced at Robbie expecting to see a whole lot of doubt on his face. But instead of uncertainty, there was faith and trust. Two things Priest hoped Robbie wouldn’t come to regret later.

  “I know how Jimmy is,” Priest said. “Not only from living with him when I was young, but…I studied him for years after he went away. How he thinks, what drives him, and if he’d wanted to really hurt me, he could’ve and would’ve already.” How, Priest left unspoken. But he could tell by the flash of horror in Robbie’s eyes that he knew.

  “God,” Robbie said, and his voice shook along with his hands as he covered his mouth. “Julien…? Will he be…? Oh shit, I think I’m going to be sick.”

  Priest wished he could spare Robbie from this, but he refused to lie. One thing he could do, though, was reassure Robbie. Reassure him of the one truth Priest knew right down to his very core. “I’m going to find him, Robert. I’m going to find Julien and bring him home to us. But first, I need you safe. I need to know you are okay.”

  Robbie nodded. “Okay.” When Priest pulled into the valet area of The Peninsula, Robbie’s eyes widened. “Are you insane?” Robbie said as they climbed out. “This place is—”

  “The last place Jimmy would look.” Priest took Robbie’s hand as he gave his keys to the man behind the valet stand, then he led them up the stairs and to the check-in desk.

  “We don’t have any bags,” Robbie said as he looked around at the gleaming marble walls, and the light’s shiny reflection in the equally polished floor. “Or a reservation.”

  “I called ahead. They don’t bat an eyelash when you book one of their most expensive suites.”

  As they stopped in front of a young woman in her mid-twenties, Priest aimed a smile at her and hoped it looked more genuine than it felt.

  “Good afternoon, gentlemen. How can I help you today?”

  “Good afternoon,” Priest said. “I called a little while ago about the Peninsula Suite.”

  “Oh yes, for a Mr. Bianchi?”

  Robbie stiffened, and Priest looked at him and said, “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Of course,” she said. “If I could just get a driver’s license from Mr. Bianchi, I already have the card you’ll be paying with on file.”

  As Robbie realized that meant him, he reached for his license and handed it over. She entered in his information, and when she gave it back, she smiled and handed them their keys. Robbie signed the paperwork, trying to keep his hand steady, and then they headed to the elevator—the private elevator, just as Priest had hoped.

  Once they were inside, and the doors shut behind them, Robbie looked at Priest and said, “Why do I get the feeling you’re about to drop me off and then disappear?”

  “Because you’re smart,” Priest said, and hooked a finger under Robbie’s chin. “I need you safe while I do what I need to.”

  “And what exactly is that?” Robbie asked, but before Priest could answer, the elevator hit the eighteenth floor and dinged. They stepped out into a foyer, and Priest slipped his card into the lock. Robbie walked inside, and Priest followed.

  “First, I need to call Henri.”

  That brought Robbie’s feet to a halt, and he turned around to face Priest. “Why? Does he have something to do with this? With Julien being—”

  “No.” Priest shook his head. “Henri knows Jimmy.”

  Robbie blinked several times. “But you just said—”

  “That he wasn’t involved, and he wasn’t, until I called him.”

  “I…I don’t understand.”

  “I know,” Priest said, and rubbed his fingers between his brows. A headache was forming there. “I grew up with Henri in a way, at least until I was seven. We reconnected again in our twenties.”

  “When you were…together?” Robbie said.

  “Yes. The short version? I was just out of law school and he was—doing something else.”

  “What?”

  Priest let out a sigh. “Private investigating, sort of.”

  “Sort of?”

  “Yes,” Priest said, not wanting to get into all that right now, but knowing he eventually would have to. “Sort of. And he’s here right now, passing through, and said he would help.”

  “So that’s where you’re going now, to Henri? He’s going to help find Julien?”

  “Yes, and if anyone can find him, it’s Henri.”

  “How can you be so certain? Are you sure we shouldn’t call the police?” Robbie asked.

  Priest shut his eyes for a moment and told himself to just say it. This was Robbie. He deserved to know everything. But God, it wasn’t until Priest had to actually explain his past that he was reminded just how fucked up it was.

  “Priest?”

  Priest opened his eyes and looked directly into Robbie’s, hoping he would believe in him just a little longer. “Because Henri is Victor’s son.”

  Priest had come to realize from the moment he’d really gotten to know Robbie that he was smart as a whip. It didn’t even take a second before Robbie put it all togeth
er. His mouth fell open and his eyes grew wide. “Victor? As in your dad’s right-hand man?”

  “Yes,” Priest said. “I’ll tell you everything and anything you want to know about Henri, but right now I need to call him. I need to find out where he is with what we discussed. I just had to make sure you were safe first.”

  Robbie swallowed again, clearly trying to process everything he was learning. Priest took Robbie’s face in his hands and said, “I’m so sorry, Robert. I never wanted any of this to happen.”

  And that was the fucking truth. This was the very reason Priest had avoided relationships, but he’d tempted fate, and fate had sent the devil his way.

  Priest dropped his hands away from Robbie, and then turned to head for the door, and as he did, his cell phone began to ring. He pulled it out of his pocket, and when he saw Julien’s name on his screen, his feet froze, and his heart came close to doing the same.

  “Priest…? Priest? What is it?” Robbie said.

  When he was beside Priest, Robbie looked down at the screen. His eyes flew up to Priest, who raised a finger to his lips—then he answered his phone.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  CONFESSION

  I will give my soul for you.

  If that’s what the devil asks for.

  “HELLO, JOEL.”

  JIMMY’S voice slithered through the phone like the snake he was, and in all the years they’d been apart, the sound of it still made Priest’s skin crawl.

  “What? No greeting for your father? You were such a well-mannered boy—at least until the end.”

  Priest turned his back on Robbie, not wanting him to witness the revulsion Priest felt over the memories now bombarding him. Instead, he did his best to think about Julien.

  He needed to keep it together, to play this just right, for Julien.

  “That boy’s long dead, Jimmy. You made sure of that.”

  “Not dead, if he speaks,” Jimmy said. “Though he goes by a different name now, doesn’t he, Mr. Priestley?”

  “Where is he?” Priest said, not willing to dance too long with the devil.

  “Your client? Oh, he’s here. You seem much more upset than I had hoped for, though, when I first got my hands on him. Why is that?”

  “I swear to God, if you’ve hurt one hair on his head—”

  “You’ll what?” Jimmy chuckled, and the menacing tone raked along every one of Priest’s nerve endings. “You aren’t exactly in a position to be making threats right now. So if you want to see Mr. Thornton alive and well again, you’ll shut your mouth and listen to what I have to say.”

  Priest clenched his teeth so hard his jaw hurt.

  “Oh, sounds like I hit a nerve. He really is someone special. I thought he might be after seeing the texts between you. By the way, who’s Robbie?”

  Priest’s blood ran cold. “None of your fucking business.”

  “Well, if you want to keep it that way, I suggest you do what I say. Or I’ll make it my business.”

  With every word out of Jimmy’s mouth, the desire Priest had to make him suffer intensified, and he had plenty of words.

  “Good boy. You know,” Jimmy said as though shooting the shit with a longtime friend, “I had such plans to be a model prisoner. To do things right, to secure my freedom—”

  “By turning rat,” Priest interjected. “How noble.”

  “By giving up information that important people wanted,” Jimmy said. “But then someone had to go and fuck it all up by leaking it to the press.”

  Priest didn’t respond as Jimmy got all caught up in his tale of woe. A true narcissist, he loved talking about himself and hearing his own voice. Plenty of profilers over the years had studied him, and that fact was always at the top of the list.

  “I wanted back my rightful place in New Orleans, just like the old days,” Jimmy went on. “But after that happened, I knew it was only a matter of time before—”

  “Someone tried to kill you,” Priest said, knowing his only chance of getting any information on Julien would be to keep this fucker talking.

  Jimmy snorted. “Probably would’ve succeeded, too, but fate stepped in and showed me a different way.”

  Priest was afraid to ask.

  “It showed me you.”

  That made Priest want to retch. “I don’t give a fuck about you or fate.”

  “No?” Jimmy said, and then his voice took on a disturbing edge. “You should, if you give a fuck about Mr. Thornton.”

  Priest’s entire body vibrated with rage at hearing Julien’s name on his father’s tongue. “Quit with the dance, Jimmy. What do you want?”

  “A reunion with you, of course.”

  “Bullshit,” Priest said. “You all but disowned me that day in the bayou, and you don’t give second chances. So try again.”

  “Straight to the point. Good for you. Fancy lawyer school teach you that?”

  Priest ground his teeth together. “You took something you knew was important to me because you wanted my attention. Well, you have it, Jimmy.” Priest paused. “So what the fuck do you want?” he shouted so loudly that he was surprised the windows of the suite didn’t rattle.

  Silence met his ear, and as Priest squeezed the back of his neck, he shut his eyes and wondered what it was going to take, how much of his soul he was going to have to give to free Julien. He was ready to give it all.

  “Several things,” Jimmy finally said, the bullshit amiable tone gone. “You get them for me, and I just might give you something in return.”

  “What?”

  “I’m on the run, Joel,” Jimmy said as though Priest were an idiot. “Think. I need a passport with a name that won’t flag anything.”

  Priest swallowed back the refusal on his tongue, and instead decided to worry about that later. “What else?”

  “Money. How much do you think Mr. Thornton’s worth?”

  More than any dollar amount you could come up with, asshole.

  “I know you must have a nice little nest egg,” Jimmy said. “And if you don’t, your client has to be worth a bit. I’m sure he has the money to save himself if you can’t do it for him.”

  “Fuck you, Jimmy. Let me talk to him,” Priest said, needing some kind of proof that Julien was even there, that he was…alive.

  “Half a mil,” Jimmy said. “You got that?”

  Priest growled. “Let. Me. Talk. To. Him.”

  “I still haven’t heard an answer.”

  “Yes, I have that. Now let me fucking talk to him.”

  Jimmy clicked his tongue. “I would, but he’s not able to do that right now. Talk, that is.”

  Priest’s vision went a murderous shade of red, and his voice trembled with rage. “You piece of shit. What have you done to him?”

  “Nothing that’s not reversible for now. But don’t fuck up, or I can’t promise it will stay that way.”

  Priest gripped the phone so hard that he was surprised he didn’t break the damn thing, and then he said in a deadly calm voice, “You lay another hand on him, I will kill you.”

  Silent seconds passed between them, and then Jimmy said, “Finally, there’s the boy I raised.”

  A SHIVER RACED up Robbie’s spine as he stared at Priest’s rigid shoulders.

  The words, the mood, and the stiff set of Priest’s form presented an intimidating force, as Priest looked out the window of their hotel and issued a threat that would have most sane men running for the hills. There was nothing sane about Jimmy Donovan, however, especially if he thought he could come up against Priest and win.

  It was strange, but with everything coming out of Priest’s mouth, Robbie knew he ought to be terrified of what was happening. But the bone-chilling determination of Priest wrapped around Robbie and soothed the part of him that was scared, the part of him that was worried, and assured him that Priest would move heaven and earth if it meant protecting those he loved.

  As fierce as a lion, and seemingly as deadly, Priest was now stalking back and forth, and the
fulminating look on his face told Robbie that the man at the other end of the phone best be careful, because he was fucking with the wrong man.

  “I am not the boy you raised or the one you left behind,” Priest said in a tone that would, under any other circumstance, cause the hair on Robbie’s arms to stand on end. But hearing Priest dominate the conversation with a man as vile and wretched as Jimmy was nothing short of awe-inspiring. “That boy was scared of you. That boy didn’t understand what you were capable of until that final day. That boy was just that—a boy. But I’m a man now, Jimmy, and you took something from me that I want back.”

  Robbie swallowed as Priest’s feet came to a stop and he raised his eyes. They were as dark as Robbie could ever remember seeing them. Like a thunderous cloud about to rain down unholy hell, and the tight line of his mouth looked like a slash across his stern face, it was drawn so tight.

  Priest looked like a man ready to head into battle and annihilate all those in his path, and judging by the balled fist at his side and the tense set of his muscles, Robbie wasn’t far off with that assessment.

  “That’s impossible,” Priest spat out, and turned away from Robbie to stare at the wall beside him. “The banks are closed and it’s going to take time to get what you want.” He listened some more and then cursed. “Tomorrow night? Where?” Priest ran a hand through his hair. “No. You tell me now.”

  As Jimmy started to talk again, Priest shook his head, the movements harsh, clipped. “Jimmy, don’t you—” But Jimmy must’ve hung up.

  “Fuck,” Priest roared, and brought his fist up and smashed it through the wall, making Robbie gasp.

  The plaster cracked and crumbled around Priest’s fist, and the wall hanging listed to the left. Robbie jumped to his feet and hurried over.

  “Priest, stop…” Robbie said, as he gently laid a hand on the arm that was still wedged in the wall.