Confessions: Julien (Confessions Series Book 2)

by Ella Frank

  A knock came first, and when Priest raised his head and Julien stepped—or rather, stumbled—into the office, Priest drew up short. Julien looked terrible.

  His eyes were bloodshot, his clothes were crumpled to shit as though he’d slept in them all week, and as Priest brought his eyes back to the glazed ones fastened on him, he said, “Hello.”

  “Bonjour, Mr. Priest,” Julien said as he walked further inside the office, and Priest thought it telling that even shit-faced drunk, this man made his body react in ways he’d never experienced before.

  It had been a couple of months since he’d last seen the gorgeous Mr. Thornton, but that by no means lessened his impact. Drunk or not, Julien was undeniably sexy and made Priest’s cock achingly aware it hadn’t seen any action in exactly…a couple of months.

  “It’s Mr. Priest-ley. But I believe you already know that. Don’t you, Mr. Thornton?” Priest walked around his desk and took his seat, determined to keep something between him and the man now falling down into the chair opposite him.

  “Oui, I do,” Julien said, and though he smiled at Priest, the expression didn’t quite reach his eyes. Julien had been nothing but mouthy both of the times they’d previously met, but right now, he seemed…off.

  “Are you okay, Mr. Thornton? You haven’t broken any more laws, have you?”

  “Non. No laws, but…” As Julien trailed off and looked around his office, Priest leaned back in his chair and studied his profile. Julien had a perfect Roman nose, a classic, strong jaw line, and, Priest remembered from when he smiled, a dimple on his right cheek.

  “I need your help, monsieur.”

  Priest told himself to say no as he sat there staring across his desk at the man he hadn’t been able to get off his mind since they’d met. He couldn’t be someone’s knight in shining armor. The go-to whenever Julien broke a law. But instead of doing that, Priest heard himself say, “Why? What did you do?”

  “Merde. Of course you assume it’s my fault,” Julien said, his tone relaying how impressed he was by that assumption. “Je suis vraiment trop con d’être venu ici.”

  Christ. Whenever Julien spoke French—even to insult him—Priest wanted to grab him and kiss him until he groaned it against his lips, and that reaction bothered the hell out of him.

  He didn’t know this guy. Other than his penchant for petty crimes. Yet, from the very first moment, Priest had wanted Julien with a single-minded hunger that had not only turned him celibate but also, apparently, insane.

  He shut his eyes and reminded himself that getting involved with Julien would be a monumental mistake. Ethically, morally, and mentally, since Julien was clearly unstable. But then again, there was nothing all that balanced about Priest, either.

  “What did you just say?” Priest said, and when Julien merely stared at him blankly, he shook his head. Jesus, this was getting them nowhere. “Fine, don’t answer that. Why don’t we try something else? How did you get here?”

  “I took a taxi. Pourquoi?” Julien said, belligerence dripping off him at being questioned.

  “I assume you just asked me why? And here’s your answer. You smell like you spent the day in a bar.”

  “I did,” Julien said, unashamed.

  Priest narrowed his eyes, searching for some hint as to what was going on, but came up with nothing. Maybe this was Julien’s usual behavior. It wouldn’t be that big a stretch of the imagination, considering what Priest knew of him. He’d seen this kind of destructive behavior the first time they’d met, and had it confirmed the night he’d bailed Julien out of jail.

  As Julien rubbed his fingers over his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut, Priest thought he looked like someone trying to banish something from his mind, and couldn’t help but wonder if that were the case or if he was just getting an alcohol-induced headache.

  “Mr. Thornton?” Priest said, and waited for Julien to open his eyes. “As delighted as I am to see you here this afternoon, do you want to perhaps tell me what’s wrong?”

  “Wrong?”

  “Yes,” Priest said, his voice softening now as his irritation and impatience drained from him. “Clearly there’s something going on with you. Why are you here?”

  Julien’s glassy eyes tried to focus, but when it was obvious he was struggling, Priest found himself getting to his feet and coming around to where Julien sat. He crouched down in front of the man who had once boldly told him he was stealing his car, and looked into the pale face of a stranger, who right now looked scared of his own shadow.

  “Julien?” Priest said, and reached up to cup either side of Julien’s face. “Why are you here?”

  Julien brought his hands up to cover Priest’s, and then leaned forward on his seat until they were practically nose to nose. “Because I deserve to suffer, monsieur. That’s why I’m still here.” Priest didn’t dare move, that answer not at all what he’d expected. As Julien’s eyes slid shut, he whispered, “But I won’t let them have her.”

  “Who?” Priest said in a voice he barely recognized. “I don’t understand…”

  “Jacquelyn,” Julien said, and then blinked. A tear slipped free of his eye and ran down to where Priest’s hand was resting. “They want to know…but I won’t tell… You can help. You can make it so they can’t have her.”

  “All right,” Priest said, agreeing without understanding the first thing about what he was agreeing to. All he knew was that he would’ve said or done anything to stop the pain Julien was so obviously feeling. “I’ll help you. Whatever you need.”

  “Merci, Mr. Priest,” Julien whispered, and when his lips curved into a half smile, that dimple appeared on his cheek, and Priest couldn’t help but stroke it. “I like the color of your hair.”

  The comment was so far removed from what they’d been discussing that it made Priest chuckle, and then Julien leaned forward and skimmed his lips over the top of Priest’s in one of the sweetest, yet saddest, kisses he had ever received.

  “I did it,” Julien said when he raised his head, and Priest was close enough to see the darker ring of jade around Julien’s irises—they were extraordinary, but then again, so was his entire face.

  “You did what?”

  “I found something I liked better than me right now,” he said, reminding Priest of the last conversation they’d had.

  “And what’s that?” Priest said, and felt his heart almost stop when Julien touched his fingers to his lips and said, “You.”

  PRIEST STEPPED OUT of the elevator on the third floor and placed a hand on the wall to steady himself. He hadn’t thought about that day in years. Julien had been a mess—both physically and emotionally. It had been the day after he’d stormed off the set of Chef Master, having refused to talk about his sister, and it had also been their first kiss.

  Priest still remembered the way his heart had just about stopped at that simple touch. It had been sad and short, and everything a first kiss shouldn’t be. But for him, it had been magic.

  A shock straight to his heart. A flash of recognition that he was staring into the face of fate, and from that day on, nothing could’ve stopped him from hunting down Julien Thornton with the single-minded focus of a dog with a bone—just as he was now.

  AFTER PRIEST LEFT, Robbie made his way out of the kitchen and decided to head in the opposite direction to which they’d come. The house was, as Priest had said, way too quiet as he walked down the hall, and Robbie couldn’t begin to imagine what it must’ve been like to grow up in a place like this.

  There was one room after another, and each one was picture perfect. Robbie was positive that the furnishings in one room alone likely cost more than all of the furniture in his ma’s house. It was insane.

  As he rounded a corner, he noticed some photographs hanging up on the wall. There, that’s more like it, he thought, moving closer, wanting to see what Julien had looked like as a little boy. But as he neared the collage of frames and images, it became clear that this wasn’t a display from proud parents, nor
was it a display of a family over the years, like his ma had.

  No, this was a memorial. It was a wall full of a little girl, then a teenage girl, and finally a young woman. All of whom, Robbie knew, were Jacquelyn.

  With his heart in his throat, Robbie took a step forward to examine the face staring out at him and was shocked by the eyes looking back at him.

  “I had a sister. A twin sister. Her name was Jacquelyn. She died eight years ago.”

  Julien’s words came back to him as Robbie stood there studying the beautiful face in each image. But what Julien hadn’t told him was the uncanny resemblance they shared even as twins.

  From the smile—those full lips—to the stunning green eyes, Jacquelyn’s features were a close to exact replica of Julien’s. Her skin was the same tone, her hair the same color, and she even had that dimple on the right side of her cheek.

  It was surreal, and Robbie couldn’t imagine how it was for Julien to see her so clearly whenever he looked in a mirror. He’d never be able to escape. Never be able to not see her. Not unless he shut his mind down. Not unless he slept or meditated.

  Oh shit, now it makes more sense, Robbie thought. Most nightmares, most demons or ghosts, haunted people at night in their sleep. But Julien’s? His usually came during the day, when he was awake and could see.

  Robbie’s eyes shifted from photo to photo, and as he looked closer, he realized that most of them were…torn?

  No. No, he had to be wrong. There was no way his parents would be that cruel.

  But as Robbie reached out and trailed his fingers down one of the images—Jacquelyn laughing, as she stood by a Christmas tree, wrapped up in a red coat—he spotted it. The bottom of a black coat brushing up against hers, as though someone else had been in the image. Someone who had made her laugh that way, someone she was angled toward, and someone who had been cut out and forever erased from that memory.

  Robbie jerked his hand away as though he’d been burned. God, how could they do that? But as Robbie’s eyes moved from image to image, he knew what he was seeing was true.

  Julien had been removed from each and every one of these photos, and as if that wasn’t heartbreaking enough, in every image, Jacquelyn was so clearly smiling at the one she loved most—the one who was no longer there.

  Robbie brought his fingers up to his mouth and wasn’t sure if he was holding back a sob or a scream. But then he wiped away a tear from his cheek and found he was more determined than ever to find Julien.

  He wanted to find his Julien, and reassure him that he had a place, that he belonged somewhere. And that place was with Robbie and Priest.

  Chapter Twenty

  CONFESSION

  All you are now, ma petite poulette,

  is the love I have for you.

  ROBBIE WALKED DOWN several more halls, and when he came to a door that was pulled nearly all the way shut, he stopped in his tracks. All of the other rooms had been wide open, but not this one, which had him reaching for the handle.

  As he wrapped his fingers around it and slowly pushed it open, the first thing he noticed was how dark it was inside. In all the other rooms there had been windows from wall to wall, and the lights from outside had spilled in through them. But this room was swallowed up by the shadows.

  Robbie took a careful step inside, barely able to see, and as he scanned the space, he spotted a shard of light coming through the top of a heavy set of curtains, and followed it to a wall of…books.

  It’s a library, Robbie thought, and took another step forward, his eyes trailing down the shelves until he saw the silhouette of someone sitting on the floor in the corner.

  “Jules?” he said on a rush, as he hurried in that direction, not caring now if he ran into anything along the way. “Jules…”

  Without hesitation, Robbie went down to his knees beside Julien, who was sitting on the ground with his back up against the bookshelf, his legs pulled up against his chest, and his arms wrapped around them tight. He was staring off into nothing, and beside him sat a bottle of alcohol.

  Robbie sent off a quick text to Priest and then reached out and placed a hand on Julien’s arm.

  “Julien,” he said again, and this time Julien startled at the touch, as though he hadn’t even realized someone had sat down beside him. But when he turned his face, Robbie saw his cheeks were streaked with tears.

  “Oh, Julien,” Robbie said, as he scooted in close to his side and wrapped his hands around Julien’s arm.

  “She’s here,” Julien whispered, and Robbie nodded.

  “I know.” He paused for a moment. “I saw her. Your Jacquelyn.”

  Julien blinked once, those green eyes of his shiny with tears and glazed from the alcohol, before he slowly looked away from Robbie.

  “She was beautiful,” Robbie said. “You both are beautiful.”

  Julien remained silent as he sat there staring at nothing in particular. But Robbie got the distinct impression that Julien was seeing something that he couldn’t. “This was her favorite room in the house.”

  Robbie looked around, wishing he could see more of it to comment. But before he could ask anything, Julien was already talking again.

  “Her library. Mine was the kitchen, and hers was right here with her books.” Julien picked up the bottle beside him and took a long swallow.

  Robbie grimaced, knowing if Julien had been drinking like that since he’d left him and Priest, he had to be close to plastered.

  “They left,” Julien said, as he put the bottle back on the floor, the remaining contents sloshing about inside of it. “They knew I was coming…and they left.”

  Robbie tightened his hold around Julien’s bicep. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve that—”

  “Oui. I do,” Julien said, angling his face toward Robbie. “I deserve to be forgotten for what I did.”

  Robbie shook his head and brought his other hand up to cradle Julien’s cheek. “I don’t believe that. Not for a second. No one deserves to be forgotten, not ever.”

  Julien pulled his face out of Robbie’s grasp. “You don’t understand.”

  “Then help me,” Robbie said, because Julien was right—he didn’t understand. Not all of the pieces, and he knew the only way he ever would was if Julien trusted him with this part of himself. “Help me understand…”

  “WHO PUT YOUR name on this list again?” Julien asked, as Jacquelyn—and her boyfriend, Ezra—led them through the long line of people waiting outside of a nondescript building for entry into the hottest gay club opening in L.A.

  Jacquelyn looked over her shoulder at him, her curls bouncing on her bare shoulders as she rolled her glittered-up eyes. “I already told you, a friend of Ezra’s. He said to let the guy at the door know who we were and they’d let us in.”

  Julien turned his hand over in hers and pulled Jacquelyn to a halt, and Ezra stopped along with her, knowing better than to try and get between them when they were talking.

  Smart man, that Ezra—for the most part. His father was one of the top plastic surgeons in L.A., so to say he was well informed about the comings and goings around town would be the understatement of the century. But Ezra was also straight.

  “Are you sure? I mean, not that I don’t want to spend the night with my sister and her boyfriend,” Julien said, and aimed a wink her way. “But I had plans to hit a club that was a sure thing, and…”

  Jacquelyn glanced at Ezra, who nodded and said, “Yeah, it’s legit, man. This client of my father’s knows the DJ here tonight, and apparently he was at Avalon last week talking about it.”

  Julien let his eyes climb up the side of the building again, still skeptical. But knowing Ezra, he wouldn’t steer them wrong. “What’s it called, anyway?”

  “Shh…” Jacquelyn said, and Julien turned to look at her.

  “I was just asking what it—”

  Jacquelyn started to laugh at him, and said, “Non, non. Catch up, Jules. That’s what it’s called. Club Shh… It’s exclusive. Members only.�
�

  Julien did another sweep of the long line. “And Ezra’s a member?”

  “Non, you are. As of tonight.”

  “What? Are you crazy?”

  “According to you, oui, I am. But after your breakup with Brian, you were so sad. I thought this might cheer you up.”

  Jacquelyn ran a hand through her hair as a group of men—all beautiful, all in their mid-twenties, and all rich as Midas, judging by their attire—walked by them and stopped in front of the bouncer.

  As a couple of them talked with the burly behemoth, a blond guy in tight jeans and an even tighter red shirt, looked over at the three of them. He gave Julien a thorough once-over, and when his eyes came back up to lock on his, Julien’s cock hardened. Suddenly, Jacquelyn’s little gift was looking better and better.

  “See?” Jacquelyn said, as the bouncer reached for the rope, unhooked it, and let the group inside. “He’s sexy and was totally checking you out.”

  Julien tore his eyes away from the hottie up ahead and eyed her suspiciously. “Did you plan that?”

  “What? A sexy guy to walk by and eye you like he’s starving and you’re a piece of prime rib?” She shook her head and couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter that spilled out when she realized victory was right there within her grasp. “Non. But it totally worked in my favor, didn’t it?”

  Julien looked at Ezra. “I hate that I’m so weak. But he was pretty.”

  “Hey, I’m sucker for a pretty face too,” Ezra said. “I’m not going to win anything with her in that dress tonight.”

  As Jacquelyn led the way toward the bouncer, she laughed merrily and said, “Nope, you won’t.” Then she turned that smile up at Mr. Big and Burly, and Julien wasn’t surprised at all when he lost his stern expression and smiled right back at her—Jacquelyn had that effect on people. “Ezra Hamon and Jacquelyn and Julien Thornton.”