Page 29 of Priest

Tag grunts; a man of few words.

“Bikers are takin’ over,” Jett says. “You gonna be conductin’ a sermon while you’re over at Dan’s church?” Chuckles ensue around the room. I know they think they’re all funny, but I've got news for them.

“Nope, but I do have to stop by to check up on things and make sure nobody’s set the place on fire,” I reply. “The other pastor and priest take turns in runnin’ the parish, bein’ a small operation, it’s not overly busy until the weekend.”

“I’ve always wondered what would happen if I set foot inside a real church.” Nevada looks over to me. “Whether I’d go up in flames or make a statue weep.”

“While that’s highly unlikely, anything’s possible when it comes to you,” I reply.

“So we’re sittin’ tight, goin’ about our daily business as usual?” Bronco seems in a hurry to get things over with.

“Pretty much, which means we’re all officially out of lockdown,” Ryder answers.

Not that we were in a hard lockdown to begin with, but we’re being overly cautious.

Nobody wants to have more blood on their hands, and certainly not putting our women and children at risk.

“And in the clear,” Tag says. “For now.” Being the Sergeant at Arms respectively, it’s his job to look out for the club and our safety. He and Harlem take care of the prospects and keep everything running smooth within the ranks. If the prospects have an issue, they go to Harlem first before ever seeing Cash.

“There’s nothin’ tyin’ us to that night other than Big Papa,” Ryder reminds us. “And we know if he talks, we’re all dead. If they get to him, then we all suffer.”

“He also knows if we wanted him gone, we’d have done it by now.” Cash glances around the table. “He’s loyal to the club, too much is at stake. Plus if he rats, he’ll just look like a liar when the Devils Ink were set up. Nobody suspects anything because we’re that good, and I want to keep it that way.”

“Then we have to keep our wits about us and stay calm,” I say. “No good runnin’ around worryin’ about shit that hasn’t happened yet. We’ve got a plan in place, and we stick to that.”

The plan being that we barricade ourselves in the clubhouse should it come to that. It’s the safest place to be, and being isolated out here gives us the advantage of not having nosy neighbors. We’ve survived a lot of shit these past few years, but getting involved with mafia wars is a whole new ballgame.

“Priest is right,” Riot says. “The Irish will take care of any mob members gettin’ too close to the French Quarter, if a turf war does ensue, it’ll be their problem not ours.”

“Another wise idea goin’ legit, Prez.” Nevada claps his hands. “As was handin’ guns over to the Mexicans.”

That’s a whole other ballgame. Some of the guys pack heat, but I don’t like guns, never have. Not to say I wouldn’t use one, like I did in the shootout, but I prefer a blade. I carry a couple, not that anyone would be any the wiser.

Last year, the Mexicans, the Irish and the club all made a deal. We’d look the other way, and they would stick to their own turf. And that’s all been working dandy until the mob moved back to New Orleans.

That knot in my stomach returns and I immediately think about Bella and what she’s doing. I’ve not been able to relax all of last night, or this morning.

Then like magic, my phone buzzes.

Linda

Priest, Bella returned. I’m sorry to say, she wasn’t in a good way. Call me ASAP.

My heart skips a beat as I stand and excuse myself. I hear a couple of snide remarks as I leave but I flip the two idiots; Riot and Nevada, the bird. I hit dial and Linda answers immediately.

“Priest, thanks for calling. I saw Bella this morning…”

“And? Is she ok?”

“She… well no, she had a cut above her eye and some swelling on one side. She wouldn’t say what happened but it was clear she’s been assaulted.”

“I’ll be right there.” I hang up and run out to the lot toward my sled; it’s faster. I’ve been taking my truck because I’ve been giving Bella and Stella a ride most nights. I also haven’t told Bella yet I’m with the Rebels MC.

The mid-morning traffic isn’t too crazy as I speed my way through downtown to the shelter. When I get there, Linda’s in a flap because Bella ran out.

“You didn’t tell her I was on my way?” I try to remain calm, but my voice gets higher and higher.

“There was no time, she was distressed, she wouldn’t listen to me. I swear I tried, Priest.”

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