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I should be worried about everything he’s laying out. He’s basically given me all the reasons to cut this off, go home, and forget Priest exists, yet I really want to pull him into my arms and hold him close until the anguish on his face disappears.
“The past is what was. The present is what is. I live in the present,” I tell him, hoping he gets what I’m saying.
“You live for the future.”
“Sure. I’m not going to make apologies for wanting a nice house one day, or a decent car, or the money to look after myself. I work for it. I earn it.”
“I can’t give you routine. I can’t do the ‘Hey, baby. I’m home. What’s for dinner?’”
“Aren’t you jumping the gun? What if we try this and we fizzle out? You might be the one to get bored of my dedication to my work or the long hours I put in. Routine, as you call it.” I do the air quotes when I say “routine.” “We slept together one night.”
“You fucking knew from the beginning once wasn’t going to be enough.” He points to himself. “I knew.”
I stand facing him and throw out my hand. “Where do we go from here?”
“I don’t know,” he murmurs, shaking his head.
I decide to let it all out. I’ve never been one to play games, and I’m not going to start now. “I like you, Priest. Nothing you’ve said so far scares me. I’d like to get to know you, but you have to want the same thing. I’m going to give you some space. No matter what you decide, I don’t regret our night together.”
Walking away is hard, but I have a feeling that my heart would never recover if I don’t do this now. Priest has to want this too.
FOUR
Good Talk
PRIEST
Ilet her go. It’s the right thing to do. I watch her walk away, and I swear it hurts more than the beating I took from the gang of men who wanted revenge against the Pride. Bones heal, but I’m not sure this ache in my chest will ever go away.
For the past few days, I’ve thrown myself into work. It was a momentary reprieve before thoughts of Quinn and the way she looks at me would fill my thoughts and I would be in agony all over again. I even thought I could find myself a biker bunny and fuck Quinn out of my system, but the thought of someone else left me cold.
When Frankie told me he was meeting Bethany and Quinn today, I wrangled an invitation. I’d gone to the youth center to direct my energy into helping others, and it helped. Then Frankie mentioned Quinn, and all I could think about was getting the hell out of there and seeing her again.
She was so beautiful sitting in the café, fresh-faced, smiling, and chatting up the waitress. The room lights up when she’s in it. When she tried to give me attitude, she made me laugh. I haven’t laughed in a long time. I was a little surprised that Quinn agreed to walk with me, and even more surprised when she laid it out and walked away.
I hop on my bike and take the long way back to the compound. Most guys have found a place of their own outside home base, but I haven’t been able to do that yet. I stay with Camille and Steady overnight sometimes as I did through my recovery, but that’s not home. I love my sister, and Christ knows that I’d do anything for her to make up for the shit I caused her, but I can’t handle more than a night of sleeping over. Most of the time, I do it when I babysit my nephew, because he’s the best little thing ever. I made a promise to that kid the minute he was born that he will never feel loss or loneliness. I’ll always be there for him. I should have been there for Camille, but I was too messed up in my own shit and let her down.
It haunts me to this day, finding out that our older brother beat Camille up and left her bleeding, took her money and left her like that. She slept in her car. She was homeless. Every time, she picked herself up and kept on trying, while I fell lower and lower, racking up debt and problems that, if Guard hadn’t intervened, would have gotten me killed.
The Pride gave me my life back, my sister back. So, I’ll go home, where I belong with my brothers, and forget about Quinn. She’s better off without me anyway.
* * *
Guard
He’s in the weight room again. That’s the second time today, and the third time on the punching bag. I lean on the doorframe and watch Priest push himself to the limit. This is the first place I brought him when I saw the frustration growing while he was being guided through the Pride. It’s a good way to work out problems, I told him, and this is where he comes now.
After three days of this, I’ve had enough. Usually, Priest comes to me or Ghost and talks it out when he’s ready. It’s never taken this long, and I don’t like the lost look in his eyes. I saw that look when he first got here and thought we took that pain away, but now it’s back.
I called Ghost and asked him to meet me here. Priest’s been working with him for the last six months, and he’s noticed a change in the last week as well. Priest still does his job, too well. He’ll take on any assignment, even calls the brothers to take on their shifts, so they can have more time with their families, but it’s like he’s trying to work every minute of every day.
It’s not safe, and it’s not like Priest. When he first joined, we got it. He was trying to prove himself and was righting the wrongs of his brother. I thought we were past this, yet here we are again.
“Yo, brother,” Ghost rumbles. He jerks his chin in Priest’s direction. “He’s at it again.”
“Something’s not right.”
“Yeah, I got that feeling too.”
