Page 49 of Priest and his Anarchist

I shrug. “Wishful thinking, and she wasn’t underage.”

He ignores me. “There are a million reasons why you both shouldn’t be near each other.” I wonder when the time will come when he finally asks me the question he’s dying to ask.

“Let’s start with the three things I need to know about this key.” The warmth from the light reflects off the bronzed metal. “Since we don’t have much time.”

Dad tears off his tie. “One, is the power that is on the other side of that door isn’t something that should be handled lightly. Take the first step with intention.”

I wave my hand. “Next.”

“Two, is that once you unlock it, there’s no going back. You choose what you’re going to do, but you can’t backpedal. You have a chance to leave it as is. It’s not a requirement to you taking the gavel or being a Hayes, but it’s something that is yourchoice.” I must look as confused as I feel because he continues. “I mean it, Priest. You can leave it.”

“Did you?” My fingers snap closed around it, bending my head to the side. “Unlock it?”

Dad’s eyes turn to glass as he relaxes back into the leather sofa, blowing out a deep breath. “No.” He pulls out a rolled joint from his front pocket, lighting the end and blowing on it. “Fuck no.”

“Why?” My intrigue is at an all-time high. Which is saying something, since I don’t have much to begin with.

“Because I don’t walk into rooms where I don’t know who awaits on the other side.”

“That’s your control talking,” I jest under my breath. We both know I’m not joking. Bishop Hayes is, if anything, a control freak.

His eyes snap to mine. Could it be? The legend of BVH showing his ugly head? They soften. I should hit him. That softness is what put us in this position to begin with. Not that he’s weak, but I’d heard stories of what he was like before her. My mother practically lulled him to sleep like a monster that’s OD’d on narcotics. That was a mistake. He should have kept things separate instead of handing her his balls on a silver platter.

A lit joint lands on my lap, and I chuckle, placing it between my lips. I inhale, filling my lungs with warmth as it eases the tension in my muscles.

Smoke stings my eyes, but when it clears, I find Dad watching. “Can I ask this one thing?”

Plucking the crumb of herb off my tongue, I shrug. “Pretty sure you’re going to anyway.”

“Look after your sister and those girls.” The trunk of herb between my thumb and forefinger gets heavier. He needs reassurance now that I have the power he once did.

“You know I will.” It’s the easiest promise I’ve made. And the only one.

“Priest.” His voice remains passive. “She’s included in this.”

My head drops onto the top of the sofa as my lips form into an O and smoke rings billow into the air. “She’s not.”

“She’s a King too. Like Stella and River.”

I fill my lungs with more smoke, ensuring to hold in the inhale until it suffocates the heaviness in my chest. “She’s nothing like them.”

“Promise me you won’t kill her.”

My head tilts, the ember from the joint distracting me. “Promise I won’t kill her.”

But I won’t promise that I won’t try.

It never occurred to me that he was getting older. Maybe I never noticed the dusting of salt and pepper through his beard and the fatigue in his eyes.

He clears his throat when he notices me staring too long. “I realize you’ve taken the gavel with everything laid out for you. There’s no impending war or tensions. Everything was worked out when I took over and it’s been smooth sailing since.”

My mouth opens, but he shakes his head for me to give him a minute.

“Then I realized that that is your worst nightmare. That I’ve possibly handed you the kingdom without allowing you the perks that every King so desperately craves.” The corner of his mouth twitches. “So that key is what I’m hoping you use to fill the void, instead of what the other option could very well be.”

“And what is it that you think I’m going to do?”

His pupils swallow the green in his eyes. “Destruction.”

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