Page 22 of Priest

I don’t know what came over me, but my feet locked in place and my heart hammered in my chest and for a second. I forgot who I am and where I was and what I was meant to be doing; which was not staring at this girl.

What is wrong with me?

Why was I so enamored with her? Was it just the fact that I genuinely want to help her get back on her feet, or something more? And how could it be something more? She is down on her luck, looking to make a better life for herself… not getting mixed up with a biker. Certainly not after some of the shit that’s gone down recently.

The NOLA Rebels stay out of all things 1% related, but that doesn’t mean that shit doesn’t find us from time to time. The recent shoot out with the Caruso crime family isn’t something I care to think about, and I’ve been dealing with some of the fallout from the brothers, like Nevada who has never shot anyone before but killed three people during it. If you could even call some of those monsters people. Especially Salerno Caruso.

The Caruso’s have been quiet of late; not even Big Papa has heard shit. Seems like they bought the idea that the meeting went south and the Devils Ink were the ones to deliver the final blow. As the weeks passed, the club waited for retaliation, but nothing came. Just like all things that come to me in a way that makes me feel unsettled, I feel that this is far from over. I know that Carlo Caruso will want answers, and if he’s not getting them soon, who knows what tact he’ll resort to.

Flying under the radar can only last so long. I know that Big Papa is trustworthy and he has everything at stake should it come out he was present. But he has a family too, people he cares about. There’s always the issue that he could rat us out to save his own hide, but that’s a bridge we’ll cross if and when we come to it.

Big Papa hates the Carusos with a passion, his loyalty is to the Irish and the NOLA Rebels.

“Crowd the mushrooms?” I repeat. “What does that mean?”

She smiles softly and I love the dimples in her cheeks when she does so. She has a sweet, kind face and the prettiest eyes. “Exactly as it sounds. When you sauté them in the pan, they need room to breathe.” How come that sounds exactly like something she’d say about herself?

“Oh, I get it.” I’m a basic cook. I can make three or four dishes really well and nuke a mean pizza, but nothing like this. It’s restaurant quality. “It’s like the mushrooms need their own zip code.”

She laughs and it’s a terribly pleasant sound. “Yeah, that’s kinda what it’s like. The trick to enhance the most from the flavors is adding both white wine and chicken stock, usually it’s one or the other, and traditional carbonara has no mushrooms. So really, it’s more like a boscaiola sauce.”

“You’re not Italian by any chance?” I laugh.

She opens her mouth and closes it again, her eyes wide and cautious. “Is it that obvious?”

“No. It’s just that you prefer Italian dishes it seems. Plus, you mentioned your nonna taught you to cook.”

She turns back to the stove, her demeanor suddenly shifting. I feel the tension radiating off her.

“I’m glad you like it,” she mutters.

I can’t figure this girl out, but something about her body language tells me I’ve said the wrong thing. “I just meant that it’s great, Bella. You did a great job.”

She looks up at me and gives me a shy smile. “Thanks.”

I walk away, unsure of what the fuck I did or said. Then I hear one of the regular dudes asking about someone called Sarah. His name is Rueben and he’s trouble. He hangs around here a little bit, and I know he was dealing drugs for a time. Trouble is, here we can’t discriminate and turn anyone away, unless they’re unruly or intoxicated or trying to deal.

“There’s no one here who works by that name,” Payden says. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, she’s small, wears a baseball cap and a hoodie. Pretty with blue eyes…”

He’s talking about Bella, and he thinks her name is Sarah.

I walk up to the counter and cut Payden’s reply off. “Nobody here works by that name, people come and go all the time,” I say. He turns his gaze to mine and immediately his stance changes. He’s all pleased to meet you with the girls, but that same merriment isn’t extended to me, it seems. Fine by me. “Don’t mean to be rude, but you’re holdin’ up the line, bud.”

He looks behind him at the que and then takes his tray and makes for a table. Damn asshole. Why is he asking for Bella? Of course I know why. She’s vulnerable and sweet, and an asshole like him would just love to get to know her.

Anger boils deep within me. My mask in place, I smile pleasantly at the next person and start loading Bella’s pasta intoa bowl.

“Why was he asking about Bella and calling her Sarah?” Payden whispers.

“I don’t know,” I reply. “But let’s not draw his attention any further. I’ll keep her out in the kitchen tonight. He’s a drifter anyway. With any luck he’ll be leavin’ soon.”

“I know we’re meant to be nice to everyone,” she goes on. “But he gives me the creeps.”

I glance up and Rueben’s eyes meet mine. A chill goes through me. He’s not a good guy, and now I have to keep an eye on Bella because I don’t trust him, especially if he’s got his sights set on her.

We have a two buddy policy here; nobody leaves the restaurant alone. Even though 99% of people do the right thing, there’s always the few that slip through the cracks.

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