Page 51 of Priest

“She told me that you weren’t a one percenter club.”

He runs both hands through his hair. “I wish Casey had let me tell you myself, but I didn’t want to make you feel afraid, and that kind of news can be a little dauntin’ to hear.”

Admittedly, yes, but I trust Priest. “At first I was worried,” I admit. “But I know that you’re a good guy, and you wouldn’t be involved in anything bad or illegal.”

He takes a slow breath. “You put a lot of trust in me, Bella. I’m not sure that I deserve it.”

“That isn’t true.”

“Which part?” He quirks a brow.

I know he’s being playful, but I still want to tell him the truth. “The part that you don’t deserve it. My life before this was… complicated. There are moving parts that can come back to haunt me that I… I just don’t want to revisit it. I can't go back. Ever.” I don’t mean to sound desperate, but I can’t help it. If my family knew I’d faked my own death, they’d sure as shit put me in the ground for real.

Where I come from there are no second chances. But being around the MC is risky.

It’s suicide if anyone recognized me. On the other hand, I’m not that important and my father kept me sheltered and out of the family business. I was just another one of his trophies. Something to put on a shelf and be forgotten about.

“You don’t have to go back. I made a decision in my life, too, when I got out of jail. I turned my life around. I could’ve gone one way or the other. I know your situation is different, but it’s still the same kinda thing. There’s a fork in the road, Bella, you just have to choose which way to go.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

He smiles softly. “Never said it was easy, in fact, turning your life around can be hard. It’s also not impossible. But it’s worth it when you start to find happiness within yourself and not look for it in other people, or bad things like drugs and alcohol.”

I don’t want him to know how afraid I am hearing all of that. I don’t know how to be happy, or to just live my own life. Some may think that’s selfish because I lived in luxury — a poor little rich girl — but they've no idea how it is living around violence and people who claim to love you but never show kindness. I would’ve given up all the physical things to just have a relationship with my father, or anyone in my family who actually cared. I felt like I really just didn’t belong to this family. Nonna said it’s because I was too much like my mother. I felt too much. I cared too much. I wanted to fix everyone and be loved in return. Sadly, that’s just not how it was for me.

“So what do I do from here?”

“We make a plan. We’ll go to Texas and get your stuff, then we’ll work with Dan to figure out a job… some place to live…”

Of course he was going to say that. But Priest doesn’t know that I can never get a job. I’m supposed to be dead. I can’t get a fake ID and Hail Mary my way out of this. It doesn’t work that way.

I start to sweat.

The one thing I miss is confessional; I went to church every Sunday and used The Sacrament of Penance — or reconciliation, as it’s now called — at least once a month. Not that I committed any grave sins, but I bore the brunt of my family's sins and wore them as my own.

I knew Leo wasn’t a good man and involved in selling drugs, and I looked the other way. I stayed quiet like a good little wife in waiting, thinking I could confess and then all my sins — as well as his — could be washed away. How wrong I was.

“What?” Priest says, shaking me out of my reverie.

“I have something to tell you.”

That cute crease forms between his brow and I’ve come to really notice it more and more. Not that I’m happy about making him frown, but if he worries about me, that means he cares…. “What is it?”

I look down at my hands, wringing them together. “I…” I swallow hard. “This is really hard to admit.”

He tilts my chin up to face him, his gentle touch sending electric currents through me. “Think of it like a confession. Even though I’m not technically a Catholic priest, I can still hear you out and offer advice.”

I stare at him like he’s some kind of mind reader. How the Hell would he know that was what I was just thinking?

“Would you do it?” I whisper.

“Do what?”

“Pretend.”

He frowns again.

“To be my real priest?” I go on. “Sometimes it’s easier…”

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