Page 56 of Priest and his Anarchist

It hurts to blink when my eyes dry. “I don’t care. Ask.”

Bishop flashes a black envelope but doesn’t extend his hand further. “You’re going to be joining the rest of them?—”

I bury my fingers into the leather of my chair. “I—don’t think…”

Bishop’s glare cuts me off. “It was a request before Priest took the gavel. He knows you’re back for good.” He places the envelope on the table, sliding it across to me. “This is different. The girls have their allocated duties that they’re partaking in,as do the Kings, but as you know, yours in particular…is, well…different.”

With a finger pressed over the sleek black paper, I pause, blinking up at all three. I feel like a kid in the principal’s office. Bishop's resemblance to his son is terrifying, but in the mellow ambiance of his office, it's like staring back at future Priest.

Bishop continues as I slide it over. “You can’t tell anyone what is inside this, Luna. What you will be doing.”

My smile doesn’t reach my eyes. “Consider your favor accepted.”

I close my apartment door, resting my head against the wood.You can’t tell anyone what is inside this, Luna.His words ricochet off the walls as I reach to the back of my hair and untie the ribbon. Soft strands of blonde hair fall around my shoulders as I kick off my boots and pad my way through the living room. Sensor lights flicker above, tracing my steps as I open my phone on my way to my bedroom.

My finger taps on the Instagram logo, and it opens onto my feed. The first photo tastes like sour milk when Corbin’s smile fills the frame, where he’s perched over his KTM. Tattooed, his tongue out, and his middle finger flipped. I miss my best friend in him. The one who I thought would understand me and this life more than anyone, but ended up being the one who judged me the most.

I sigh, tossing my phone onto my bed and making my way to the shower that’s adjacent to my bedroom. Is this what my life will be now? Favors for the Kings and pretending to be one? They can say it as often as they want, but it’ll never stick.

I am not a King. I am here, yes, and I bleed them, would die and kill for them, but I am not one.

As soon as the water is warm, I dip beneath and watch as it beads off my skin. Five minutes max, I’m out, dry, and standing in my closet, scanning my current options. Sundresses, winter dresses, knitted sweaters, flats, heels, handbags. Everything in this world is endless.

Like barrel wine, burgundy lace stands out between a beige sweater and a yellow dress. I’m about to take it out when my phone starts blaring from the room. I back up without looking away, swiping the phone blindly and tapping to answer.

“If you had to choose, which one?” In a second, my mom’s bright silver hair replaces the blank black screen.

“Where’s Aunt Perse?” I stand my phone upright on my bedside table, throwing on a loose top and fuzzy socks. I’m crawling up my bed when she tangles two dresses in front of the camera. One lilac and the other black.

“Lilac.” A yawn interrupts my answer as I settle into the sea of pillows.

The dress disappears, and her face fills the screen. Free of makeup and in the comfort of her bathroom, my mother never looked more beautiful than she does in her natural moments. “We always wear that color.”

“True,” I answer, unlatching the Rolex from my wrist. “But there’s a reason why we do. Where you going?”

She picks up her phone and walks me through the house and into the kitchen. “We have a meeting in Japan.”

“Fun. Mayhem?” My stomach turns to knots. I wish I fell into the Mayhem kid pool. Things on that side seem easy.

She nods, the light from the fridge disappearing when she closes the door. “Yep. Are you okay? What are you doing tonight?”

“Hey, baby!” Dad blows me a kiss through the phone when my mom passes him.

Warmth spreads through my chest, turning my heart heavy. “I miss you.”

“Us too—” Mom starts walking off, but Dad must take the phone because there’s a slight squabble before his face replaces Mom’s. “How’s everything going there?”

Bound by bland walls and unpacked boxes, I settle on the view of Riverside from the floor-to-ceiling window. “Well, the apartment is nice.”

“It’s temporary. You know you should take the offer to build down the lane.”

The thought puts out my fatigue like water to a flame. I roll out of bed and make my way downstairs. “I don’t want to.”

He’s silent for a moment, which gives me enough time to find the bar hidden in the corner of the living room. A soft ambiance of lighting allows for a comfortable setting. It's perfectly me, paired with a velvet moss sofa, a wide fireplace, and designer rugs.

“It’s all up to you, baby. You know that.”

Headlights catch the window as the passenger door opens onto River before Halen climbs out of the driver’s seat and Stella from the back.

---