Page 98 of Priest

That sobers her.

I work my thumbs into her arches, slow and steady, feeling the tension give under my hands. I take a breath. Then another.

“It’s time I explained myself better,” I say. “My past. The parts I don’t usually offer up.” I swallow hard, keeping my hands moving because stillness would make this harder. “You deserve to know who your baby’s daddy really is. And why I made the choices I did, why I fucked up so bad. No excuses. Just the why. The scars.”

She shifts, then settles back, eyes on me. “Okay.”

The word lands soft and heavy all at once.

My phone buzzes.

I ignore it.

It buzzes again.

This time I check it, and the familiar pull tries to take over. Sadie. Missed calls. A text.

I’m in labor. I need you.

“Hold on,” I say, setting Blue’s legs down gently. “One minute.”

I pace as I call Sadie back.

“Priest,” she sobs the moment she answers. “I need you. I’m in labor. I need you to take me to the hospital.”

“I can’t,” I say evenly. “I’m with Blue. We’re in the middle of somethin’ important.”

“But this baby is your family,” she cries. “I’m your family.”

“No,” I say. My voice stays low. Steady. Done. “I told you where we stand. I’m callin’ Ledger and Lena. They’ve got kids. Lena knows what she’s doin’.”

“I want you there.”

“You need to stay in your lane,” I growl. “Ledger’ll be there soon. Congrats on the baby.”

I hang up and call Ledger without hesitation. When he tells me Lena will help, pissed but willing, something inside me finally unclenches.

I sit back down beside Blue and lift her legs into my lap again, like I hadn’t gone anywhere.

“That was Sadie,” I say. “She’s in labor. Ledger and Lena are handlin’ it.”

Blue studies me. Calm. Present. No judgment.

“Okay,” she says.

I exhale slowly, hands resuming their work.

Deacon’s voice echoes again, quieter now.

Show the scars. Trust the right person not to flinch.

I look up at Blue and let myself stay.

“Now,” I say softly, “as I was saying before we were interrupted…”

The instinct to disappear comes up out of habit, but for once, I let it pass through me without obeying it.

My hands keep moving over her calves, thumbs pressing slow and steady, like the rhythm might hold my nerve together. The silence stretches, expectant instead of awkward. Blue doesn’t rush me. She never does.