by Ella Frank
Julien chuckled and shook his head. “That wasn’t what I was going to say, mon amour.”
“It wasn’t?”
“Non,” Julien said, and slipped his fingers behind the elastic of Priest’s briefs. “I was going to say, is this the same young man who makes you hard when he argues with you, but…” As Julien’s words drifted off, he wrapped his fingers around Priest’s erection. “I think I have my answer.”
Priest shut his eyes as Julien moved in a little closer and kissed his jaw.
“Did he argue with you tonight, Joel?”
Priest tipped his head up as Julien began to stroke him, and thought back to the feisty princess who’d gotten up in his face despite all his friends watching—he’d been spectacular. “Yes, he did. Told me he hated me.”
Julien tongued his top lip as he twisted his hand, making Priest groan. “I can see that really bothered you.”
“Julien… Harder.”
“I mean, that was your goal, right? To make him hate you? Things are too messy with him being so close to everyone.”
“Yes,” Priest agreed, and then he grabbed Julien’s wrist. “Fuck. If you don’t stop that, I’m going to—”
“What?” Julien asked, and brushed his lips over Priest’s. “I want it, and you do too.”
At Julien’s words, Priest grabbed the lapels of his robe and hauled Julien in until a breeze couldn’t even fit between them. “I’m not going to go easy on you.”
Julien’s eyes darkened. “I don’t believe I asked you to. But one thing before talking becomes…difficult.”
Priest’s eyes narrowed as he took Julien’s jaw in hand and tilted his head to the side to lick across his dimple. “What’s that?”
“I think it’s time I met this princess of yours, because despite you trying to stay away from him, you can’t, and I want to know why. I want to know who’s made you this hungry tonight, mon amour.”
Priest stripped Julien of his robe, and when he stood before him naked, he took hold of Julien’s cock and stroked. “That would be you, mon cœur.”
Julien held on to Priest’s arms and arched into his grip. “Me and a princess. I want to meet the man who’s making my cock harder without me even knowing him.”
Priest lowered his head and said against Julien’s lips, “You’re going to want to eat him for a good week straight.”
“And you’re going to want to watch—putain.” Julien moaned as Priest tightened his fist, excitement and pleasure ramping up the arousal already swirling around them in the room. “Do you think he’ll be interested?”
Priest looked down at Julien’s phenomenal body, and then back into his beautiful eyes, and a wolfish grin curled his lips. “One look at you and he won’t stand a chance…”
“YOU DIRTY CHEAT,” Robbie said. “You sent in Julien to get your way.”
“I’m not ashamed to admit that. Like you said before, Julien is easy to love.”
Robbie took a step toward him, and as he neared, Priest uncrossed his legs to allow him better access.
“You are too, you know.”
Priest shook his head and turned away to reach for the black turtleneck on the counter beside him. “We both know that’s not true. My love is a burden, Robert. Hasn’t this shown you that? It’s heavy. Too heavy.”
“Says who? You? There are two men in your life who would disagree. Julien got arrested to get your attention, and me? I got in your face at every opportunity just to remind you that I was there.” Priest turned back to face Robbie, who took the sweater from him. “Your love is exactly what Julien said—powerful. It’s intense, all-consuming, and takes two men to return it,” Robbie said, more serious than Priest had ever seen him.
Robbie walked to the door, and Priest called out, “You have my sweater.”
“I know. I want to hold on to it for a few minutes more,” Robbie said, as he took a long look at Priest. “I’ll give it to you when you come out.”
As Robbie disappeared out the door, Priest turned and looked at himself in the mirror and thought of Julien. His smile, that dimple, the way he laughed with his eyes that were so bright and full of life.
“Hold on, mon cœur, just a little longer.”
“YOU READY?” PRIEST asked as he and Robbie finally emerged from the master suite, and Henri looked up from his seat on the couch.
In boots, black jeans, a black lightweight shirt, and the same leather jacket he wore everywhere, Henri projected the image of exactly what he was—a man who existed in the shadows.
“Whenever you are.”
Priest inclined his head, and then turned to Robbie and took his face between his hands. “Okay. You go with Henri. Stay close to him. Do what he says, okay? That way, I know not to worry.”
Robbie nodded, and as Priest picked up the gun on the coffee table and put it in the back of his pants under his jacket, he said to Henri, “We do this just as planned. When you see Jimmy, you know what to do.”
“Are you sure?” Henri said.
Priest walked around the coffee table, and when he stopped in front of Henri, he looked him directly in the eye and said, “I’m trusting you with half of my heart here, and once I have the other half safe…”
Henri nodded, knowing exactly what he was saying. “You got it. Here, take my car tonight. Yours will be stolen in ten seconds flat if you don’t hide it in that part of town.” Henri handed him the keys, and then held his hand out. “Now, give me yours.”
Priest reluctantly handed over the keys to his Aston Martin.
“See, that wasn’t so hard. Now, go. I’ll take care of the sweet half of your heart, while you go and get the other half. Let’s end this tonight.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
CONFESSION
If you dance with the devil,
You better know all the steps.
I have been practicing for years.
PRIEST SLOWED HENRI’S nondescript black Ford to a crawl as he made the turn onto the street where his GPS directed him. The location was typical Jimmy, that was for sure. The seclusion, the skeletal remains of buildings that once were, and a river—a river was always a good option for someone who liked to dispose of people as though they were garbage.
Bile rose in Priest’s throat at the thought, but he squashed it down as he brought the car to a stop outside of Warehouse B. There were no lights, no gates, no security granting people entry and exit. Warehouse B sat empty, just as Jimmy had said. In fact, the entire street looked abandoned.
Priest tightened his hands around the steering wheel and looked at the timer on his phone: fifty-six minutes. Four minutes to spare. He looked in his rearview mirror at the desolate road behind him, before checking both of the side mirrors—nothing.
Henri was good. Priest had to give the fucker that, because he had no idea where Henri was right now with Robbie. But as Priest got out of the car and did a final scan of the dilapidated buildings and warehouses surrounding him, he knew Henri was in one of them, and kept that in mind as he walked around to the back of the car.
The night was eerily quiet as Priest opened the trunk, and once he’d grabbed the bags with the money, he left it that way—open—to keep his arrival as discreet as possible.
Get in. Get Julien. Then get the fuck out. That was what he’d been telling himself since he’d parted ways with Henri and Robbie back at the valet stand of The Peninsula. But Priest knew Jimmy, and had a gut feeling he wasn’t going to make things that easy.
Priest headed toward a side door with the bags in hand, and with each step he took, his determination grew—along with his fury. He had no idea what he was going to find once he stepped inside, but the thought of Julien spending even a minute in there alone with Jimmy had Priest turning homicidal.
He placed one of the bags on the ground, and as he opened the side door, he put his foot out to hold it there. Jimmy had been smart with his cash amount, likely knowing it would take Priest two hands to haul it all in, and when he got inside and the do
or closed behind him, Priest took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the darkness that greeted him.
For years Priest had had trouble sleeping. He’d found that closing his eyes didn’t banish the demons, instead inviting them in, and because of that, he’d become an expert at sitting silently and patiently in the dark, aware of his surroundings in ways that others might not be—that habit of his, it appeared, would pay off tonight.
Running along one side of the warehouse there were several windows that had been boarded up, and as his eyes adjusted, Priest realized one in the middle was covered in some kind of material that let a tiny slip of light in.
Without a sound, not even to draw a breath, Priest pivoted to the left, sensing another’s presence. He narrowed his eyes in that direction, and the outline of a person took form. They were sitting, and there was no movement, just stillness, in the vast emptiness of that abandoned space.
Priest gripped the handles of the bags a little tighter as his breathing came faster, every instinct in his body telling him to drop them and run to the one seated in that chair—but Priest knew better, so he waited.
Jimmy had always liked the element of surprise, and there was no reason to believe that tonight would be any different. So Priest needed to play this just right.
As the blood rushed around his head, Priest tried to temper the ringing in his ears, but it was no use. His pulse was racing and his adrenaline was skyrocketing.
“Well, it’s about time.”
The voice that had plagued Priest for decades echoed around him as though it had been spoken through a megaphone.
“Look how grown up you are. Last time I saw you, you had pissed your pants and were cowering like a little girl. The years have treated you well.”
Priest said nothing, refusing to rise to the bait. He knew his silence would grate on Jimmy’s last nerve, and not a second later, whatever had been covering that middle window was pulled away from the broken glass, and the moonlight flooded inside, illuminating the one who was seated—Julien.
As Priest’s eyes took in everything in front of him, he wanted to shout at the top of his lungs, and then find Jimmy and squeeze the breath right out of his. Julien was tied to a chair by his arms and legs, there was blood dripping down the side of his neck, and his right eye—fuck—was swollen shut. There was something stuffed in his mouth to keep him quiet.
Priest was moving before he could order himself not to. As his stride ate up the distance, Jimmy said, “Careful, Joel. Be very careful what you do next here.”
Priest’s steps immediately slowed, his common sense kicking in and reminding him that getting Julien or himself killed was not the outcome he wanted tonight. Right now, Julien was alive. Priest needed to keep him that way. He needed to rein in the emotions making his blood boil, and use them to burn the one stoking the flames.
Priest dropped the bags, and as he took another step closer, Jimmy finally stepped into the light.
In all the years that had passed, nothing much had changed about Jimmy’s appearance. His eyes were still a window into the soulless husk of a human, and his hair—which had been a shade brighter than Priest’s own—was now peppered with grey.
Priest steeled himself against the automatic response his body had to that face, because flight was not an option. The only option here was fight.
Fight for Julien.
Fight for Robbie.
And fight for the little boy this man had destroyed all those years ago.
“I brought you what you asked for,” Priest said, and pulled the passport from his pocket and dropped it on the bag beside him. “Passport and money. Now give me Julien.”
Jimmy chuckled, and the sound crawled up Priest’s spine, reminding him that Jimmy was a dangerous creature, like those who lived in the swamps he had slithered out of—a creature that needed a clean cut to be eliminated.
“You don’t have time for small talk?” Jimmy said, and Priest noticed the gun stuffed in the front of his belt. “It’s been years, Joel. Don’t I deserve a little catch-up before I have to be on my way?”
“You don’t deserve anything,” Priest said, looking to Julien, whose eyes held a look of fear and…trust. And that look scared Priest almost as much as his father did, because what if he failed?
Jimmy walked around Julien, came to a stop, and said, “Maybe. But I have a feeling you’ll give it to me.” He pulled out the material that had been stuffed in Julien’s mouth, making him cough and swallow in new air as he tried to wet his dry throat.
“Julien,” Priest said, and went to take a step forward.
“Don’t even think about it,” Jimmy said, as he pulled his gun out. “You stay right there for this little rendezvous. But while we’re all getting acquainted, why don’t you introduce me to your husband?”
Priest said through clenched teeth, “You’re going to pay for touching him.”
Jimmy looked unfazed by the threat. He smoothed a hand over Julien’s hair. “Am I? But we’ve become such friends.”
Priest didn’t dare take his attention off Jimmy, but a feral sound escaped his throat.
“Now, now. There’s no need to get so worked up, Joel. We’re all adults here; surely we can have a mature discussion about what we can all expect from each other in the future.”
“How about nothing? I got what you wanted. Now you’re going to take it and disappear off the fucking planet.”
Jimmy’s eyes narrowed as he leaned down to place his mouth by Julien’s ear, and when Priest took an automatic step forward, Jimmy pointed the gun to the side of Julien’s face.
“I told you to stay put, boy,” Jimmy said. “And if you value his face, you’ll do as you’re told. I want to have a chat with my son-in-law.”
Priest’s nostrils flared, and as a tear slipped free of Julien’s good eye, the look there conveyed one thing: Stay there. Don’t you dare risk yourself. Not for me, mon amour.
But fuck that. There was no way Priest was going to let Jimmy hurt Julien further. He needed to distract his father. He needed to keep the fucker talking.
“So how did you do it?” Priest asked, knowing that, above all other things, Jimmy liked to talk about Jimmy.
“Escape?”
“No. That I already know. It’s all over the news. You stabbed two guards and one civilian. Jimmy Donovan’s murder record now sits at twenty-two. You must be proud,” Priest said, making sure to keep his voice neutral, unaffected by the revulsion he felt toward this man. “What I want to know is how you found me.”
As predicted, a smug smile warped Jimmy’s face, and he said in Julien’s ear, “Is he always this serious? He was such a quiet, timid boy when I knew him.”
Priest wanted to wipe Jimmy’s smile off his face with his fist, but before he could move, Julien said, “He’s not that boy anymore.” The underlying threat of Julien’s words wasn’t lost on Priest. They were, however, overlooked by Jimmy.
“No. He’s a man. A married man,” Jimmy said, and tapped his fingers on Julien’s good cheek. “Which makes him more likely to do what I want him to.” Jimmy looked up at Priest. “Isn’t that right? Don’t want your husband here to get hurt, do you?”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Priest said, not allowing Jimmy under his skin, redirecting the wayward asshole. “How did you find me?”
Jimmy straightened, and as he did, Priest tried to think of the best way to reach for his gun without alerting his father. Jimmy’s eyes were like a laser locked on him, though, and Priest knew if he went for it, Julien was as good as dead.
“Really, Joel, I’d been keeping tabs on you for years. You didn’t think I’d just let you go, did you?”
No, he hadn’t. That was why he’d vanished. That was why he’d become someone else. Because he knew the kind of man Jimmy was. The kind who never let someone go—not even his son.
“You never really did understand our way of life. That was your downfall,” Jimmy said. “Always busy looking for a way out, and not really un
derstanding how to survive within. People like me, we always have connections on the outside. We have connections everywhere.”
And like a sucker punch to the gut, Priest realized that all his extra diligence and secrecy hadn’t done anything to protect him and the ones he loved. Jimmy had been right all along. Even when you cut the head off the snake, it still had the power to harm you. Even though Jimmy, the head, had been locked up for years, his body—the rest of his miscreants—still existed to follow his lead. The only way it would end was if Jimmy did.
“My sources clearly need some improving, though, or replacing,” Jimmy said. “The last I heard, you were in Los Angeles, and I didn’t know you were married to cock.” Priest’s eyes fell to Julien, and an ugly chuckle left Jimmy. “I’m not all that surprised, though. You and Victor’s boy were awfully close. Yes?”
Priest’s eyes flew up to Jimmy’s at the mention of Henri. “We were boys, friends,” he snarled, disgusted by the man in front of him in ways he couldn’t put into words. “And you two were monsters. We looked out for each other.”
“I’m sure you did, even when the monsters were locked up. Keep each other warm at night, did you? Doesn’t really matter now, though. You aren’t a boy anymore. Isn’t that what you told me? And when I saw you on the television at Mr. Thornton’s restaurant, I wasn’t about to wait around for months when I knew you could get me all I needed to disappear right now. Call it your penance, if you like.”
“Penance?” Priest said, the word leaving a bitter taste on his tongue. “What could I possibly owe you penance for?”
“Walking away, son,” Jimmy shouted, and his eye twitched as he cracked his neck to the side then looked Priest up and down. “A coward. Always been a coward you have.”
Priest nodded, making sure to keep his eyes trained on Jimmy. “You’re right, I am. But I’m here now and Julien’s got nothing to do with this. Let him go.”
“Yesterday, that was true. He didn’t really have much to do with it. But you see,” Jimmy said, and finally he walked around Julien and came toward Priest. Yes, that’s it. Get away from him, you fucker. Come to me. “Things have changed.”
