by Ella Frank
Jimmy’s lips turned up in a sneer. “Yes. There we go. You’ve caught up. Now, back to introductions. You’re Mr. Thornton, and I’m—
“Jimmy Donovan,” Julien said. Priest’s father, convicted murderer.
“Very good, and if you know that, then you should know why we’re having this conversation.”
When Julien remained mute, trying to get his brain to catch up, Jimmy kept on talking.
“I’m in need of a good lawyer, Mr. Thornton, and I heard you have one.”
Julien’s stomach twisted, as he pictured Priest standing in their kitchen that morning, smiling at him, drinking his coffee. That was this morning, right? How long have I been out?
“Don’t worry too much, I’ve already contacted him, and he seems…willing to help.”
Julien tipped his head up and tried his best to pry open his right eye and see if he recognized his surroundings. But a new bolt of pain shot through his head, making him wince and shut both eyes.
“Don’t bother,” Jimmy said. “The swelling won’t let you open it.”
As something cool ran down Julien’s neck, he gripped the wood under his hands and tried to remember anything Priest had told him about his father to help him here, and the one thing that he recalled was that Jimmy was a stickler for honesty.
It was something that had always stood out to Julien whenever Priest spoke of that afternoon on the bayou. Priest would deny it until his last breath, but the fact he’d been so traumatized by Mr. Stevens not telling the truth was undoubtedly the reason he was so adamant about honesty as an adult—he’d seen what a lie could do to a person, and Julien needed to remember that if he wanted to stay alive.
“I had a nice little catch-up with Joel while you were sleeping. It’s a shame you missed it. I believe you know him quite well.”
At the mention of Priest’s name, nausea roiled in Julien’s gut. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what Priest was experiencing—or poor Robbie.
“Are you having trouble talking?” Jimmy said. “I left your tongue in your mouth for a reason. You really should use it, Mr. Thornton. You never know when it might not be there.”
Julien swallowed, the threat making his dry throat even drier, and then made himself speak. “Oui, yes. I know him.”
“Yes, that’s what he said.”
Julien didn’t care how much it hurt—he forced his eyes open the best he could and made himself take a long look at Jimmy, should he need to describe what he saw later—if he got the chance.
Jimmy appeared to be about the same height as Priest, and even though he was older, he had more brawn than Julien would’ve expected. Not that that was so unusual; years in a prison cell with nothing to do except push-ups and sits-ups kept one strong, and Jimmy was letting Julien know that by the way he’d rolled up the sleeves on his dirty white shirt, tucked into grey pants a size too big that were held up by a belt—and in that belt was a gun.
“He was rather upset that you and I were becoming acquainted,” Jimmy went on, and Julien could only imagine. If Priest knew that Jimmy was the one who had taken Julien, once he’d gotten over his shock, Priest’s only emotion right now would be fury.
Nobody messed with the ones Priest loved.
“Honestly, I didn’t think he’d much care, since you’re just a client of his. But that’s not all you are, is it?”
As Jimmy let the words dangle between them, Julien swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, and when the distinct taste of copper hit his taste buds, he shut his eyes and told himself to breathe.
Jimmy had hit him hard. But if he wanted to stay alive, Julien knew he had to focus. Focus and keep Jimmy talking. Keep him engaged and interested enough that he didn’t hit Julien again—or worse.
“You seem to be the one with all the answers,” Julien said, and then spat out the blood that was pooling in his mouth. “Why don’t you tell me?”
Jimmy chuckled, and the sound made the hair on the back of Julien’s neck stand up. “I think you’re his boyfriend. A fancy French fucker who likes to suck his cock, that right?”
“I’m not his boyfriend, non. I am French, though, so points for that,” Julien said, and then coughed, trying to get some kind of lubrication in his mouth.
“You think this is some game?” Jimmy shouted, and finally some clue as to where they were was revealed, as his voice echoed off the walls. Wherever they were, it was empty and large. Some kind of storage unit? A warehouse, maybe?
Then Jimmy shifted in close and put his hands over Julien’s arms. “You think I won’t hurt you because you know Joel? Let me tell you, that is not the case. Especially now that he abandoned his name.”
Julien thought back to the stories of how this man had terrorized Priest as a child, and felt his disgust and revulsion morph into courage—if he was going to die, then he would do it standing up for that little boy who never had anyone to do it for him.
“You don’t care about him,” Julien said. “You never once thought about your son. How what you did would affect him. I don’t think a monster like you is capable of thinking of others, which is why you no longer have a son.”
“You’re right. I don’t have a son!” Jimmy said. “Because he walked away from me, his father. Away from his name. He ran away like a spineless little coward and left his old man to rot in a prison cell.”
If Julien had been able to, he would’ve killed Jimmy for that statement alone. Priest was anything but spineless. Something his father would soon learn when they finally met again face to face.
“He was a child, and he left a nightmare. One where you were all that was evil and still are. But that boy who left…” Julien thought of Priest’s shrewd eyes, cunning brain, and powerful body, and felt a warped smile hit his lips. “You better watch out, because he’s coming for me. I promise. And you won’t recognize what you see.”
Jimmy’s hands dug into Julien’s arms as he clenched his teeth. Then his voice dropped several bone-chilling octaves as he said, “You love him.”
Julien refused to look away as Jimmy moved closer. Instead he focused on the lines around Jimmy’s eyes. His cold, dead eyes that revealed the empty pit where his soul used to be.
“Yes. You do. More than boyfriends, then,” Jimmy said, and tilted his head to the side as though inspecting a bug under a microscope. “Are you and Joel… married, Mr. Thornton?”
Julien raised his chin a fraction, refusing to cower. Priest would be coming for him. Julien knew that all the way down to his very soul. His job now was to stay alive until Priest got there, stay alive so he could see Robbie’s smile again, even if that meant telling this savage things he normally wouldn’t divulge.
“Yes,” Julien said, and Jimmy did something Julien never would’ve guessed—he laughed.
“Oh,” Jimmy said. “This is even better than I originally planned. When I saw you on the TV telling that reporter that Mr. Priestley was your lawyer, I never suspected this kind of connection.” He laughed again, and the sound was sinister and devoid of emotion as Jimmy straightened and moved away.
Julien kept his one good eye on Jimmy’s back, watching as he picked up a tire iron. Julien’s adrenaline spiked and his fear kicked in as he tried to think of something, anything, to keep Jimmy talking.
“Why are you doing this?” Julien said. “You were up for parole. You could’ve walked free.”
Jimmy twisted the bar in his hand as he walked back toward Julien. “Ohhh, so you were keeping tabs on me, huh? Well, I would’ve been dead in days if I stayed. The second it was leaked, a target was on my back. Talk through the grapevine had my number coming up very soon. But then, like some miracle of God, you appeared with Joel beside you.”
“So you escaped?”
“I did,” Jimmy said, clearly proud of himself. “Then I…procured myself a vehicle and again fate stepped in. The owner? He was a gun-carryin’, law-abidin’ citizen. God bless America.”
Julien looked to the gun in Jimmy’s pants, and then to the i
ron in his hand. “If you kill me, Priest will never give you what you want.”
Jimmy raised his arm as if he was about to swing the iron, and it was just enough to distract Julien from the fist that landed against his bruised right cheek and sent a burst of pain into his swollen eye socket. It was so agonizing that Julien’s vision went spotty, his head started to spin, and everything began to fade.
Jimmy bent down and said in his ear, “Oh, he’ll give me what I want, Mr. Thornton, because I took something that he wants. Don’t those fancy lawyers call that something? Ah yes, quid pro quo. So sleep tight—we have a long day head of us tomorrow.”
As Julien’s head lolled to the side, his eyes fell shut and he heard Priest’s voice in his head…
“JULIEN THORNTON, THIEF of my heart. I will always be there for you.” Priest took a step forward until their bare toes touched on the white sands of Pelican Point Beach while the sun set out across a calm Pacific Ocean. “When you are tired, when you are sick or in need, I will be there. I will never abandon you, never let you feel you are alone, because you are not. As long as I am alive, you will never know a day where you don’t feel loved or protected.”
Priest shifted to place his cheek by Julien’s and kiss his temple. “I will be there to help carry whatever burden you might find too heavy, and to fight off any demons that come for you. Je t’aime, Julien, and I will love you until my very last breath…”
AS THE LIGHT grew dimmer, and Julien’s will faltered, he clung to the words Priest had said to him on their wedding day, believing them with every fiber of his being. He took what he hoped wouldn’t be his last breath and slipped into the darkness that beckoned.
Chapter Twenty-Six
CONFESSION
I will be strong for us.
I will bring him home today for us.
ROBBIE WOKE AS the sun was just beginning to show its face, and as he opened his eyes and stretched his legs, he realized he’d spent the night asleep in Priest’s lap. Shit, Robbie thought. When he angled his head to see if Priest was sleeping, Robbie found him exactly as he had been the night before.
Priest was awake and staring out the window. Robbie pushed himself up, and as Priest turned in his direction, Robbie’s breath caught at Priest’s tear-streaked face.
Priest looked exactly the way Robbie imagined he was feeling, like a man who had entered hell and hadn’t escaped. Robbie let his eyes shift to the phone still sitting on the bedside table, and Priest said, “Nothing’s changed.”
Damn it. Robbie wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but was a little bit of hope too much to ask for? But one look in Priest’s eyes and Robbie had his answer—yes.
Hope was far too much to ask for when it came to Jimmy Donovan. If they were putting all their faith in him, they might as well say goodbye to Julien forever. Luckily, they weren’t, Robbie thought, as Priest swung his legs over the edge of the bed and got to his feet. Robbie was putting his faith in Priest, and if anyone was going to save Julien, it was him.
“You should eat something this morning. It’s going to be a long day,” Priest said.
“You should eat too.”
“No, I—”
“Priest,” Robbie interrupted. “You’re not going to be any good to anyone—least of all Julien—if you don’t have any energy.”
Priest gave a clipped nod, and Robbie got off the bed and came over. When they were practically toe to toe, Robbie put a hand to Priest’s chest and shut his eyes. As the steady beating of his heart thumped against Robbie’s palm, he let the feeling of it course through him.
“This,” Robbie whispered, and then opened his eyes. “This is what’s keeping Julien alive right now. Your heart.” Robbie reached for Priest’s hand and placed it over his. “And mine. He’s counting on that. He’s thinking about that. And you need to believe it and keep this heart of yours strong for him.”
“For us,” Priest said. Robbie swallowed, and Priest reached for the back of his neck and tugged him into an embrace. “I will be strong for us. I will bring him home today for us. But I need you to promise me something.”
Robbie turned his face up. Priest’s strained expression told Robbie that whatever he was about to say was something Robbie wouldn’t want to hear.
“Don’t ever stop thinking of me in a way that makes your eyes this sure.”
Robbie trembled and opened his mouth to speak, and though Priest put a finger to his lips, Robbie still whispered, “Never. Why would I ever—”
“Because Jimmy has a way of making people…do things.”
Robbie shut his eyes and put his cheek by Priest’s. “Whatever you do, I know you’re doing it for Julien. How can you think I would ever love you less for that?”
Priest kissed Robbie’s temple. “Because I know how far I’ll go. You don’t.”
Priest’s words sent a shiver of trepidation through Robbie, but he nodded, understanding what Priest was telling him—he wasn’t coming back today without Julien, no matter what price he had to pay.
A COUPLE OF hours later, Priest stood inside the elegant lobby of National Bank with Robbie by his side. Neither of them had said a word on their way over. In fact, neither of them had spoken since that last conversation in the hotel before breakfast.
But as they stood there now, Priest took Robbie’s hand, wanting him to know he was with him through this, even if he was finding it difficult to convey that with words. As their fingers touched, connecting them, Robbie looked at Priest and offered a small smile, and Priest wished like hell things were different.
He wished he was a different man, a normal man, anyone but the son of a monster. But if that were the case, he never would’ve met Julien or Robbie. He would’ve lived through the horrors of his childhood a million times over if it always led back to them.
As he and Robbie moved up the line, one of the security guards looked them over, and Priest knew why they’d caught his attention. His suit from the day before was rumpled to shit, his eyes were bloodshot, and wrapped around his knuckles was a piece of bedsheet Robbie had ripped up for him, because he’d refused to stop on the way for a bandage.
All in all, Priest looked suspicious, and if the security guard could read the thoughts running through Priest’s head, he likely would call the cops regardless of the fact Priest wasn’t there to rob the place.
When it was his and Robbie’s turn, Priest walked up to the teller and Robbie stood off to the side.
“Good morning, sir,” the teller said. “How can I help you today?”
“Morning,” Priest said, trying to appear much calmer than he felt. No need to alarm the young lady or draw any more unwanted attention to himself. “I’d like to make a rather substantial withdrawal from my account today. Is Mr. Horowitz available?”
“Of course. If I could just get your name, I can let him know that you’re here.”
“Thank you, I’d appreciate that. My name is Joel Priestley. My husband and I—” Priest faltered at the mention of Julien, but then coughed and covered it by pulling a business card from his wallet and putting it on the counter. “We worked with Mr. Horowitz when we opened our accounts here several months back. If he’s available, I would like to speak with him.”
“Certainly. Mr. Horowitz is here this morning. If you and your husband would like to take a seat, I’ll give him a quick call.”
Priest turned to see that Robbie’s mouth had fallen open, and he looked so disturbed that someone would mistake him as Julien that Priest had to say, “We’ll do that,” before Robbie corrected her innocent mistake.
Priest directed Robbie to the waiting area, and they took a seat. Robbie leaned in and said, “I’m sorry. She’s probably new and doesn’t remember you and Julien together, that’s all.”
“Robert?” Priest said.
“Yes?”
“What she just said didn’t upset me.”
“Oh, right. I mean, I didn’t think it would, but I want you to know I’d never try and take Julien’s
place or—” Robbie clamped his lips shut, his eyes becoming so round that they seemed to cover his entire face. “God. I’m such an idiot. I’m going to shut up right now.”
“Please don’t,” Priest said, and touched a finger to Robbie’s lips. “You talking helps pass the time. It keeps my mind off…everything else.”
“Even when I’m making a fool out of myself?”
Priest nodded. “Even then.”
“Okay,” Robbie said, and then chewed on his lower lip. “I can talk.”
“This I know.”
A small smile tugged at Robbie’s lips as he looked around the massive columned interior of the bank and shook his head. “I have never been inside a bank like this.”
“A bank like this?”
“Yeah, you know, a fancy one where you can tell big, important transactions happen.” Robbie pursed his lips. “I probably don’t even have enough money to open an account here.”
“Yes, you do,” Priest said. “Anyone can open an account here. This is just the main branch. It’s where Mitchell & Madison has all its accounts, and when we moved out here, it seemed like the best option.”
“But look at the floors,” Robbie said, and then stared at the polished marble under his feet. “They’re so shiny I can see myself in them. I don’t feel properly dressed to be here.”
“You look more put together than I do this morning. Stop worrying. The only reason I came to this branch was because I know they’ll have the amount of money I need on hand—in cash. Not all places have that.”
Robbie licked at his lips. “How much money does he want?”
Priest rubbed a hand along his beard, and then looked Robbie in the eye. “Five hundred thousand.”
Robbie’s eyes bugged so wide that Priest thought they just might fall out of his head.
“And you’re just going to give him that?” As soon as he said it, Robbie rolled his eyes. “Of course you’re going to give it to him. It’s just money, and if it gets Julien back…”