Page 9 of Priest

The doors open finally, and everyone piles in before me.

My stomach growls with hunger as I patiently wait my turn. It smells delicious and the sign above the large pots of delicious smelling stew tell me it’s Gumbo. I’ve never had Gumbo before, but I’d give swamp alligator a try at this point in time.

I’ve never gone hungry like this in my life, but to be able to escape in the way I did, it was fundamentally necessary. Not only for my wellbeing and safety, but also for my spirit.

The streets are dangerous, but when I ran away, it was now or never. I’ve been sleeping at shelters here and there, but there’s nothing long term. I need to get out of here to retrieve something left for me by my late mother, but that is proving difficult. One, it’s in Texas, and two, I’ve no means to get to freaking Texas. If I hitchhiked, who knows where I’d end up. I’m only twenty-one, and my family thinks I’m dead. Let’s just say that I’d like to keep it that way. Not only did I run away from a deranged family; I was also in an abusive arranged marriage situation that I could no longer be a part of.

The night the opportunity came up suddenly, I had to act. It was my one chance at freedom, but in doing that, I also left behind any chance of a future with means. My bank account, namely, and any possessions I had worth anything. If I could get to my safety deposit box, however, things could be different. I need to get enough money together to get a bus or train ticket. It’s my meal ticket out of here, but for now, I just need to stay alive.

When I finally get to take a bowl, I see three servers; two women and a man. The man is tall, with piercing green eyes and a pretty smile.

I stare at him trying to figure out if he’s real. He chats to everyone and makes them feel welcome as they load rice and pour the hot soup over the top. My stomach rumbles and my mouth waters at the huge chunks of bread with melting butter. I could literally kiss this man with joy.

I line up and the girl with the dark hair telling witty jokes moves to make way for another pot of steaming soup.

“Miss? Your bowl.”

I glance up and the handsome man is staring at me, smiling encouragingly. Holy Jesus. He’s even better up close. He has dark hair, a short, cropped beard and features so perfect I wonder what he’s doing here and who he is.

I’m embarrassed by my appearance so I look down and hand him my bowl. “Thank you,” I mutter.

When I get the nerve to take another peek, he’s concentrating on getting all the soup into the bowl. Thank God it’s a big bowl, because I’m starving. My last meal was a couple of days ago, and I know it’s starting to show with my weight and the gauntness in my skin.

“How are you today?”

I glance up again. He’s talking to me. Shit. “Uh, good, thank you.” I look down again.

“Help yourself to the bread basket, and the salad bar.”

I nod, taking the bowl from him gratefully as I move along in the row. I scurry away to find a table, hoping to not have to converse with anyone. I place my bowl down and then make my way back for the salad and bread, no way am I risking all of that being gone by the time I’m done with the Gumbo.

I hear the man talking to someone else, laughing as the person receiving their bowl chats away like they’re old friends. One of the women serving notices me staring and I look away quickly, my head down as I head back to my table.

I continue to keep my head low as I tuck in, silently groaning at how good this is. I should go thank the cook. It is the most amazing food I’ve ever tasted. There’s bell peppers, celery and onion, rice, shellfish and meat. The flavors… I can’t even describe how good it is. Spicy, but not overly hot. I don’t like a lot of spice, but this is just perfect.

I’m wearing the same jeans and hoodie I left with that night, along with a coat I got from goodwill. My Prada shoes don’t exactly go with the rest of my outfit, but I didn’t plan on having to do a midnight dash without warning. I come from old money, or did would be the operative word.

As hard as this new life is, I’d rather be homeless than go back to the life I had.

It wasn’t a life — it was a prison sentence.

I can’t even feel remorse over that night and the bloodshed that ensued, not that I had anything to do with that, but still. I know the men in my family are not good people. They hurt people. They hurt me. My own father wanted me to marry a man who was just biding his time before he could move up the ranks in the family and take over the business. Leo was not a good guy. I shudder when I think about the life I almost had with him and how my father and uncle loved him so much. Maybe they saw themselves in him and that made them feel better about their own sins and misgivings. Maybe they just never really cared.

Leo would skirt around with other women while assuring my father and uncle that he was also waiting for marriage, then behind their backs he’d threaten that if I slept with anyone besides him before our wedding, he'd slice my throat and blame it on robbers.

This is the kind of sick asshole he is. And if he ever finds me, I can kiss any kind of life goodbye. This was the only way.

I told my father about him, about my reservations, but he never cared about any of that. My mom died in a car accident years before, and the loss of her still haunts me to this very day. I never knew what it was like to have a mom past the age of ten, and that in itself is enough to scar me for life. Every single person in my family is tied to the family business, and therefore I’m dead to them, too. As much as I’d like to keep in contact with my cousin Rosa, and my best friend Andi, I can’t risk it. I’m a ghost.

And that’s exactly how I have to remain. A nobody. I need to lay low until I can get my way out of this godforsaken place and get to Texas.

I don’t go back for a second bowl, even though I could easily take another one. I see some of the people eating begin to help tidy up, and I feel like I should do the same.

I come from a family where women do all the work, so helping out isn’t something I’m unaccustomed to, even if we did have several staff at my family home.

I begin to gather my bowl and some of the others that were left on the other end of my table.

The entire restaurant was packed. People coming in and out all night. And the cute man and the two women keep on serving Gumbo to people like their life depends on it.

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