Page 3 of Priest

I shoot him a look. “Let’s not get into that, it’ll make your eyes water, pretty boy.”

He sighs. “Just think about it. Like I said, it’s two years minimum as a prospect, and trust me when I say, you don’t wanna be doin’ that if you can help it.”

I honestly don't know why he’s telling me this. I guess he really does want me to join the MC, and what I’ve heard about being a prospect sounds like no picnic.

“If it’ll keep you off my back and not talkin’ for five seconds, then I’ll think about it.”

He grins. “Good. I think you’d get along with the guys.”

“Are they as yappy as you?”

“No, but free snatch, grub and all the beer you can drink gotta be worth it. And a roof over your head.”

“Cash okay with ex-cons?” I already know the answer to that, but I wanna hear it from him.

“If he likes you, then yeah. I fucked up, but he knows I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s tight knit, you know that by reputation. Cash won’t just let anyone in, but he trusts me.”

“I’ll take your word on it.”

He pushes off the wall. “So, what are you gonna do with that blade?”

I face him and grin. “I’m gonna bury it in the Brute’s neck. What do you think I’m gonna do with it?”

He doesn’t flinch. Going up against the worst criminal in here is potential suicide, but right now, I’ve nothing to live for. I have no prospects at all, even if joining the MC has piqued my interest. “I wanna be there when he’s on his knees pleadin’.”

I rub my chin. “Maybe I should talk to Big Apple after all, I need to be able to know how to read someone their last rights.”

He chuckles. “Penance, my friend? And you said you weren't Catholic anymore.”

I reach for the blade, tucking it into my shoe. Who knows how soon I’m gonna need it.

“By the time I’m done with the Brute, or any other jailbird around here who wants to fuck with me, they’ll all be on their knees praying for mercy.” It won’t be the first time I’ve killed a man. Not that I’ve ever been locked up for it. But trust me, the assholes deserved it. The more I think about it, the more I’m starting to like this idea.

He whacks me on the back. “That’s what I like to hear.”

Club Chaplain? It has a ring to it.

I could do that. I could fast-track into the MC and get my life back on track. Or I could die here in prison.

The only question is, can I really hand myself over to the almighty? Faking it could come as naturally as breathing, but even I have my superstitions. I don’t mess with holy shit.

I’ve always had a sixth sense, and it’s eerily accurate. I can always see right through people, it’s a gift I’ve had since I was small.

People have always confided in me, and I’ve no idea why. It’s like I’m the flame to the month, not the other way around,and they just can’t help themselves.

One thing I do know is that the Brute is going to die in this jail, and it’ll be at my hands. I also know I’ll get away with it, easily. The question of what to do with myself after that remains.

It could be a way out. The brotherhood I’ve always craved and wanted. To belong, to be needed; deep down that is my ultimate desire and is what’s kept me alive this long.

I rub my chin once more. Maybe all of this hell on earth I’ve been suffering was for a reason. Maybe this is my calling? And if I get free grub, snatch and a place to live, how bad could it be? I could even start to like it.

I smile. “Come to think of it, I’m sure I could be reformed for the right situation.” I lean back on my bunk and my smile spreads into a grin. “I think finding the Lord could be my meal ticket outta here.”

Riot nods his head. “Best thing I’ve heard all day.” He reaches out to clasp my hand. “I’ll join the dots with Cash, you’ve just gotta do the leg work.”

“Best go find a bible then, hadn’t I?”

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