Page 114 of Priest

You have a big heart, guard it with all your might.

Take care my baby girl.

I will never, ever stop loving you.

Always and forever,

Your loving Mama.

Tears roll down my cheeks as I press the letter toward Priest, unable to read any more.

My shoulders shake as he leaves his chair to kneel at my side, taking me in his arms.

“I can’t, Priest…” I sob.

He kisses my hair. “You can, little dove. You’re strong, just like your mama.”

I don’t know how long he holds me for, but he doesn’t fill the silence with words because really, what can he say? Nothing makes this okay.

“I have twin brothers?” I whisper. “I just don’t understand?—”

I feel his hands grip my shoulders. “Bella.”

“Make it make sense.”

He wipes my tears. “I know who your brothers are.”

I frown. “What?”

“Think about it… twins, born in New Orleans. Your father had an ongoing relationship with a woman called Gemma.”

My eyes are like saucers. “No.”

“Jett and Rock,” he says. “That slimy fuck… They don’t even know…”

“Did he molest his own children?” I can’t even bear to think about it. “You said my dad?—”

“That isn’t your burden.”

“No, but he did what he did… And I never knew they existed… I have brothers?”

He brushes the hair back off my face. “Holy fuck this is gonna be one fuckin’ wild conversation.”

“I can’t believe it.”

He strokes my face with one knuckle. “Little one, it’s gonna be a shock to both of them. Baby steps, okay?”

I nod. “It’s a shock to me too. I can’t believe I have brothers and my father — Why was he so evil, Priest?”

He leans over to kiss my forehead. “I wish I could explain that, but trying to get into the brain of a mad man wouldn’t even bring any of us any peace. He was in it for himself. He was a terrible man, and the day he died set you free. Always remember that.”

Tears fall from my eyes. “What if they hate me because of this?”

He pulls me into his arms. “Not possible. Nobody could hate you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Still. It was my dad that did those things, and now Priest has to break the news. I feel sick.

Wiping my eyes, I look into the box and see a set of keys and a smaller box. I open it to find a diamond brooch, a bracelet and a gold locket. Inside the locket is the picture with my mom holding me as a baby. My first initial is engraved on the outside. “Holy shit,” I whisper.

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