Page 184 of Priest and his Anarchist

“How’d she get him out?” I deadpan, refusing to look at him.

“She tripped the system.”

“Fuck.” I toss the note onto the floor and punch the numbers into my phone.

“Fuck, it’s about to go down, isn’t it….” Deacon mutters in the background.

I bring the phone to my ear, climbing the stairs two at a time. Pop answers on the third ring as I open my door and head for the closet.

“What is it?”

“She let Corbin go and she’s going after the Ministry.”

“What?” Pop snaps over the other end, closing a door in the background. “How did that happen?”

“Oh fuck, I don’t know, maybe because I fucking let her?”

Pop pauses. “I’m about to land back in Riverside. Priest…”

I tie the final lace on my boot. “What?”

“It’s time.”

I shake my head. “No. No way.”

“Son…”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Well you’re going to. I found out some information while I was away, from a slippery mouth in Rome.”

“I’m listening.” Barely. I shove a shirt on and grab a hoodie and jacket.

“There’s something that you don’t know about a deal your father, Nate, and Brantley made with Luna while they were still Kings.”

“What?” I jerk in surprise. “What? How?”

“I want to say around the time that she came back for the ritual. She made a deal with them. A favor. They’re trying to chase this same person, and used her as a way to help that, knowing her background.”

I stare off into the distance. Since I was a young boy, I didn’t have to balance two lives. I thought I’d reign well because nothing would ever mean as much to me as the EKC.

Turns out. I was wrong.

“It’s time everyone knows.”

I gaze back at the old painting hanging on the Watch Tower wall. I knew that this was coming, either way, I just figured that I’d have more time to gather everything, learn about it, and at the very fucking least, clean house.

“Must be bad…” Halen’s eyes widen at me when she lowers to her chair before the rest follow suit. Dad, Nate, and Brantley are in separate areas of the room, with Pop not far from my shoulder.

“Before I start, you all need to know that I don’t give a fuck what you think about the decisions that I’ve made. I don’t do shit for your approval; I do things to continue our legacy and to keep us exactly where we belong. On top. So before you think of opening your mouth and complaining about my lack of moral compass, know that I don’t give a fuck, and I simply don’t have one. Moving on…” I flick the ash off the end of my cigarette, watching when the burning ember swallows the trunk. “I know about the favor you made with Luna before I took the gavel.” I don’t bother looking up at my father. “I don’t see what you did as a betrayal, nor am I mad that you did it. You had the gavel and made the choices, which I respect. So now you’re going to do the same for me.”

Dad’s leaning against the floor-to-ceiling window. He nods.

“Why did you willingly drop her into the tunnels?”

Dad works his finger and thumb. “Because she was the only one who had a foot in that world and, for lack of a better statement, that was our way to penetrate yet another organization without putting our entire foot into it.”

I stay silent, blinking. The picture directly opposite me is my favorite: a charcoal swirl of shadows and lilac. It reminds me of a simpler time, a time when none of this mattered.

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