Page 183 of Priest and his Anarchist

“What?”

“Glad you got the dog back on its leash,” Archer says, and I hear shuffling in the back. “Was starting to second-guess your capabilities. Feel good to have him finally?”

I place the milk on top of the counter. “Fuck you. But yeah. It does. Though what happened shouldn’t surprise me the way it does. Dad should have never neglected those fucking tunnels.”

“In his defense, he didn’t know what it would entail. Need help?”

“Never,” I mutter into my glass.

He laughs. “Thought so.”

“The messy shit between her and her sister threw things off a bit.”

“The one you killed?”

“The very same.”

“You sure you killed her?”

“This the second time you’ve insulted me in less than thirty seconds. You second-guessing my skills, Thorn?”

He chuckles. “No one is doing that. It’s just you guys have been known to stash things and people away until they become useful again.”

“Yeah, well…” I shove my hand into my sweatpants. “Not this time.”

A piece of paper slips over my fingertip. After Archer once again says that it was a dead end and that the Huntress was most likely paranoid, I disconnect the call and pull out the piece of paper. It’s folded in perfect lines and edges to form a small envelope. I start unwrapping it slowly, but every time I undo a corner, agitation grows.

Flicking out the final edge, Moose stops at the threshold, clearing his throat. “We have a—” His words disappear as the writing takes over in her voice.

Priest.

I wish I could say that I had thought about this moment many times over the years, but I hadn’t. Simply because I thought I wouldn’t make it this far. There are some things that you need to know. Last night meant everything to me. I want you to know that. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I’d wanted this, what I feel like we finally started to have, for so long now. I kept things hidden, as you know, because I was never sure of your intentions.

Well, now it’s my intentions that I have to come clean with.

The first thing I want you to know is that I love you. I loved you since the very first time I saw you. I loved you when you didn’t, and I’ll continue to love you when you don’t. Because by the time you finish reading this, you won’t. You won’t love me, and I’ll be yet another girl with her final words being scribbled over your wall of collections.

One, Corbin is gone. You won’t find him.

Two, the final hit on my list wasn’t so easy to grab. I know you thought it was Corbin, but it wasn’t. The problem is, I still don’t know who he is, and the only lead I have is the deadweight currently crying at my feet.

Three, I’m sorry. I know you’ll never understand my logic on going after someone out of pure emotion. But here’s a story that I wish wasn’t true.

I spent my first seven years beneath the busy streets, not knowing that this world existed. I didn’t talk. I was mute until I met you. Mmmhhmm. Bet you didn’t know that, huh? You were the first person I ever spoke to.

There were three men. Danny Dale, Jeremiah, and Moses Dale. He was but a few years older, but he was used as a tool, and he enjoyed it. As you know, I killed them.

But there was one more on my list. The one they answered to, the one no one saw. The one who sat behind his desk and allowed it all to happen. The Minister. He may not have directly played a part, but he allowed them the space.

I’ll be home once the job is done. And you can hate me then.

I love you.

Forever your Madness.

The piece of paper crumples in the palm of my hand as I fall against the wall.

“I take it that note just told you what I came to say.” Deacon rushes in, his hair a mess all over his head and his clothes half-on.

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