by Ella Frank
Priest let go of Robbie’s hand and pressed his fingers to his forehead. “You still got people around?”
“If you mean here in Chicago, then yes,” Henri said, his eyes shifting to Robbie before returning to Priest. “I got people.”
“I figured, since you were up this way.”
Henri shrugged. “I’m looking to relocate. When I heard Jimmy was getting out, I wasn’t about to stick around New Orleans for round two. I ghosted, and knew you were out here, so I thought I’d check out the area.”
“So no one knows you’re here?”
“What do you think?”
Priest scrubbed a hand over his face before dropping it down by his side. “He wants money and a passport. I can get him one of those things—”
“And I can get him the other,” Henri said.
“Right. I wasn’t sure—”
“Yes, you were. You’re always sure about everything.”
“Not about this I’m not.” Priest began to pace, his head down, stroking his beard, and Robbie watched the two in silent fascination as they went back and forth. “I don’t care how you get it, or how much it’s going to cost. I need it by tomorrow, Henri.” Priest stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Is that even possible?”
Robbie’s heart was thumping so hard that he was surprised both men didn’t look at him and ask him to keep it down.
“I’ll make it possible,” Henri said. Priest gave a clipped nod, and Henri walked over to Robbie. “Watch over him tonight, would you?”
“Henri—” Priest said.
“What?” Henri said, challenging Priest in a way Robbie had never seen anyone do. “Don’t act like you’ll look after yourself during all of this.”
“I’ll look after him,” Robbie said, and raised his chin. “Go and get Priest what he needs. I’ll watch over him.”
Henri raised a hand and tapped Robbie’s upturned chin. “I like you.”
“Like him a little less,” Priest said, and stalked across the suite to grab Henri’s arm and lead him to the front door. “Tomorrow.” As he held the door open, Henri stepped outside and nodded.
“Tomorrow.”
As Henri walked to the elevator, Robbie raced outside and said, “Wait.”
As Henri stepped inside the elevator, he held the door open and said, “What is it, bright eyes?”
Robbie stood on tiptoes and whispered something in Henri’s ear.
“I can do that,” Henri said.
“Good. And I’ll do what you said. We’ll be even.”
“That we will,” Henri said, as Robbie stepped out of the elevator and felt Priest come up to stand beside him.
“Even about what?” Priest asked.
Robbie shook his head. “Nothing. I just wanted to check something with Henri before he left.”
Priest frowned and then looked at Henri, who had removed his arm from the elevator door. “Thank you,” Priest said, even though he looked as though he wanted to strong-arm Henri into some answers.
“It’s what we do, right?” Henri said as the door began to close.
“Be careful anyway.”
“Will do. Talk tomorrow,” Henri said as the elevator finally shut, and Robbie and Priest stepped back into the suite to face the long night ahead.
Chapter Twenty-Four
CONFESSION
Be careful of the thief. He will steal your heart.
IT WAS CLOSING in on eleven when Robbie came out of the en suite and found Priest standing by one of the wide windows that overlooked the city. He hadn’t bothered to turn on any lights, and since neither of them had any luggage, the room was untouched, the whole suite really, except for the two of them and the liquor from the bar in the opposite room.
Robbie had decided to take a quick shower after Henri left, to give Priest a moment to process all that had happened. But when he re-entered the bedroom and saw Priest so silent and still, standing there in the dark, Robbie had to wonder if that had been a mistake.
“Priest?” Robbie said, and when Priest looked over his shoulder, what Robbie saw in those eyes made his heart ache.
Priest had been a pillar of strength throughout all of this, never once showing signs of weakness. But right now, Robbie could see the underlying worry, the grave concern Priest was trying so hard to contain, swirling in troubled eyes that were filled with self-recrimination.
“Priest,” Robbie said, taking Priest’s uninjured hand. “Do you want a quick shower? It might help clear your head.”
“No,” Priest said, his voice barely audible, and when Robbie saw the phone sitting on the table beside Priest’s leg, he knew why.
Priest didn’t want to be in a position where he couldn’t answer a phone. Where he couldn’t leave in an instant if he had to, or get out that door and save Julien should the opportunity arise, and Robbie couldn’t blame him—not one bit.
“But I’m glad you did,” Priest said, and touched his fingers to the lapel of the robe Robbie had on.
Robbie moved in closer to Priest’s side and cradled his cheek. “Hey? Good thoughts, remember? Tomorrow we’re going to find Julien and bring him home.”
When Priest looked away, Robbie had a feeling it was to hide the fact that Priest might not believe that as strongly as he had earlier. But there was no way Robbie was going to let him go down that road.
He moved until he was standing between Priest and the window. “You told me that, remember? You told me that Jimmy wants something, and Julien is the way of getting it. He’s not going to jeopardize that. We’re going to get Julien back.”
Priest said nothing. It was as though he were shutting down, his fight from earlier having left him now that Henri was gone and there was nothing to do but wait.
Robbie shook his head, his emotions threatening to consume him and drag him under. Seeing Priest so forlorn, so defeated, was heart-wrenching, and when the silence became too much to bear, Robbie could no longer hold his emotions back.
“Don’t do this,” Robbie said, and when Priest’s eyes opened, the tragic look in them had Robbie’s lip quivering. “Don’t shut down and close me out. I know you’re scared for him, so am I, but you have to keep fighting. You have to keep believing and seeing the man we love and remember. We’re going to get him back.” Robbie’s eyes blurred, and he dropped his hands by his sides. “I need you to believe that, because if you don’t—” Robbie clamped his mouth shut, refusing to voice his final thoughts, and when it seemed Priest would remain silent, Robbie went to walk away, only to feel a hand on his arm stopping him.
“I keep thinking,” Priest said, his voice broken. “If Julien had never tried to steal my car that day…”
Robbie felt a tear slip free and fall down his cheek. “If he’d never tried to steal your car, you would’ve had eight miserable years of eating horribly cooked food.”
Priest took a step toward Robbie and rested their foreheads against one another. “I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to him.”
“Stop it,” Robbie whispered. “You didn’t do this, and Julien would be the first to tell you that.”
“Yes, but if he hadn’t—”
“But he did,” Robbie said. “He did steal your car—or try to—and it started this crazy love that you two have, and Priest? I love that story.” Robbie brought a hand up to cover Priest’s heart. “Will you do something for me?”
“Yes,” Priest said, his voice full of gravel, full of raw emotion, his broken heart in his eyes.
“Tell me more of it. Take us away from here and now.” Robbie drew Priest over to the bed and scooted up on it until he was sitting with his back against the headboard, and then patted the spot beside him. “Bring Julien back to us in a way that only you can.”
Priest sat down and took Robbie’s hand, entwining their fingers. “Did he ever tell you about the night we got engaged?”
“No, he didn’t,” Robbie said. “Will you?”
Priest leaned his head back against the headboard,
shut his eyes, and took a deep inhale. Then he let it out and said, “Yes, let me tell you…”
“GREAT FIRST MONTH, chef,” Lise called, as she shoved through the front door of JULIEN and stepped out into the parking lot.
It’d just hit midnight, and Priest had been waiting all day for this moment as he watched Lise’s boss, and the owner of the hottest restaurant in L.A., walk out into the warm summer night.
As Julien Thornton came into view, Priest caught his breath at the sight. Dressed in his chef’s uniform—black pants and a white chef’s jacket with black buttons—Julien looked the part of a man who’d spent the night in a high-end kitchen.
European cuisine at its finest was how critics were touting it, and when Julien kissed Lise on either cheek and waved goodbye, Priest couldn’t help but think Julien Thornton was a European male at its finest.
It’d been nearly a year since the two of them had officially started dating, and as he watched Lise drive away, and Julien walk around the side of his restaurant to where he’d parked his car, Priest wiped his hands on his pants and told himself to breathe.
He was nervous. In fact, he’d never been more nervous about anything in his life, as he watched the man he loved come to a stop in the empty parking lot and look around.
There were four floodlights that lit up the new parking area, and as Julien stood under one of them, he turned to his left and then his right, before shaking his head. Priest smirked and thought Julien just might kill him for this, but was hoping what came next would make up for it.
Priest pulled his cell phone out and brought up Julien’s number, then he hit call and waited. Julien’s cell began to ring, and he frowned, shoved his hand into his pocket, and fished it out. When he brought it to his ear, Priest braced himself for the impact.
“Salut, Joel,” Julien said, and the frustration in his voice took nothing away from the sensual cadence of it. Even pissed off, Julien sounded like he was trying to seduce you.
“Well,” Priest said, and chuckled, “that wasn’t exactly the kind of greeting I was expecting tonight. Especially when we’ve barely seen each other all week.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” Julien said. “But you won’t believe this. Someone has stolen my car.”
“You’re kidding?”
“Non. I’m not kidding. I’m standing here at the back of JULIEN in an empty fucking parking lot. Bordel, Joel. I knew I should’ve waited to open until after I got the security cameras installed.”
Yes, Priest thought, he was guilty of two things: taking shameless advantage of the fact he knew Marcus, the security guy Julien had hired, and asking him ever so nicely to maybe be booked until Monday—and, of course, he was guilty of…stealing Julien’s car.
“Shit, Julien,” Priest said, as he opened the door of Julien’s Porsche Boxster and climbed out. “I mean, what kind of reprobate would steal your car?”
“I don’t know,” Julien said as he started to pace, too caught up in his annoyance to realize what was really going on. “I locked all the doors, and you’d think with the way this place is lit up, someone would’ve seen something.”
“You’d think so,” Priest said as he leaned back against the vehicle and crossed his arms and legs. “Maybe the person who took it is just a really good…thief.”
As that final word left Priest’s mouth, Julien’s feet stopped and he slowly pivoted, scanning the parking lot. “Where are you?”
Priest was happy to hear, and see, the smile on Julien’s face as he watched from his spot in the dark alley alongside the restaurant. “In the neighborhood, of course. That’s where friendly car thieves hang out. Isn’t it?”
Julien chuckled, and Priest smiled in automatic response. He was ridiculously in love with this man, the one who’d entered his life in such a brazen way.
“I wouldn’t know. It’s been a while since I met one.”
“Me too,” Priest said, and then clicked the locks, making the headlights of the Porsche blink. Julien turned in his direction. “But there was this one I met, some time ago, and I can’t seem to get him out of my mind.”
“Vraiment?”
“Yes, really,” Priest said, understanding most of the words and phrases Julien used around him, and as Julien began walking his way, Priest’s heart beat a little faster with every step. “He has eyes the color of gemstones, rich and vibrant, and they darken whenever I’m inside him.”
“And how often is that?”
“Not as often as I’d like lately.”
“That’s a shame,” Julien said when he finally reached the curb, stepped up on it, and crossed the grass, heading straight for Priest. “It sounds like you really have a thing for this…thief.”
Priest nodded. “I think I might,” he said, as Julien finally crossed the dark alley. “But you know what they say about playing with thieves, right?”
When Julien stopped in front of him, he lowered his phone and ran his eyes over Priest’s black shoes, matching trousers, and button-up shirt, until he landed on his face. “What’s that?”
Priest pushed off from the car and whispered above Julien’s lips, “Be careful, because they just might steal your heart.”
“Joel…” Julien sighed and tilted his head for a kiss.
But before their lips met, Priest said, “Marry me.” Julien sucked in a breath, and Priest took his chin between his fingers. “I know we aren’t traditional by any stretch of the imagination, but”—Priest ran his fingers along the line of Julien’s throat—“I love you. I want this, you, forever, Julien.”
“Dieu,” Julien said, and when he raised his hand, Priest didn’t miss the way it trembled. “I want that too.”
“Yes?”
“Oui. Je t’aime, Joel Priestley. I have since the moment you caught me in an alley, much like this.”
Finally, Priest brushed his lips over the top of Julien’s. “That was the day my life truly began.”
Julien moved into him until Priest was up against the car door, and then put his hands on his chest to steady himself. “Mine too. It was the day you restarted my heart.”
Priest shook at Julien’s words, knowing just how reckless he had once been with his life, then he took Julien’s lips in a kiss full of love and devotion, and knew not a day would go by where he wouldn’t do everything in his power to keep that heart, and this man, forever safe and by his side.
AS PRIEST’S WORDS drifted off, he turned to see Robbie’s eyes shimmering with tears. No words were needed to express the emotion; it was written all over Robbie’s face—heartbreak.
Their hearts were broken because half of them was gone. Stolen from their lives in the blink of an eye, and Priest knew if he didn’t play his hand exactly right, Jimmy could end this in a way that none of them would ever come back from.
Priest slid a little way down the bed, and then tugged on Robbie’s arm, pulling him down until his head rested across Priest’s lap.
As Robbie settled in, Priest caught the way he shuddered. Priest reached up to wipe away the tears from Robbie’s eyes. The day and the story had finally brought forth the onslaught of feelings Robbie had been keeping at bay, and Priest felt his pain alongside his own.
“Shh,” Priest said, as he ran a hand through Robbie’s hair, trying his best to soothe him, even though nothing could dull the painful ache they were experiencing.
As the minutes ticked by and turned into hours, they didn’t move from that position. The only thing that changed was that Robbie’s tears finally abated and he drifted off to sleep. But Priest’s just wouldn’t stop, as he sat there in the dark, sleep nowhere in sight, and pictured the thief he’d never been able to get off his mind.
Chapter Twenty-Five
CONFESSION
You are never alone.
Not as long as I’m alive.
“I WAS WONDERING when you’d finally wake up.”
The unfamiliar voice that seeped through Julien’s foggy subconscious set off warning bells. A light began to flicke
r behind his eyelids, making him squint against the intrusion. As he did, a shooting pain ricocheted through his skull, and the warning bells turned into full-on blaring alarms.
“That’s right. It’s time to wake up, Mr. Thornton.”
As Julien tried to open his eyes, he found one easier than the other—his left—as the eyelid pulled back but then shut in response to the glare from the flashlight being shined in his face.
“I must’ve hit you harder than I thought. You’ve been out for a while now, boy. I was starting to wonder if you’d ever come back around.”
Julien tried to make sense of the words he was hearing, and as his jumbled mind began to recall what had happened, his heart skipped and almost stopped, and he forced himself to open his eye.
This time there was no flashlight blinding him, and as he focused on the man standing in front of him, Julien’s pulse began to race. The man was no one he had ever met before—at least not in person—but he was instantly recognizable by the steel color of his eyes, and the lifeless expression within them.
“Your name is Mr. Thornton, I know that much. Julien Thornton. So are you concussed?” Jimmy Donovan asked, clicking his fingers in Julien’s face. “Or just…slow?”
Julien swallowed as he tried to comprehend what was going on, but all he could seem to do was focus on the man’s face. How could Jimmy be standing in front of him? And how did he know his name?
As those questions raced through Julien’s mind, Jimmy took a step forward, and Julien automatically tried to move but found that he couldn’t. He was tied down, his arms and legs bound to a chair, and that was when the cold tendrils of fear crept up the back of his neck, making him shudder.
Maybe this was some kind of dream, some kind of nightmare brought on by anxiety, and it wasn’t really happening. But when Julien shook his head and blinked, trying to clear his mind, he knew this was no dream, because the terror he was feeling was too real—and the man inflicting it knew that.