Page 72 of Julien (Confessions 2)

“What did you just say?” Priest said, and when Julien merely stared at him blankly, he shook his head. Jesus, this was getting them nowhere. “Fine, don’t answer that. Why don’t we try something else? How did you get here?”

“I took a taxi. Pourquoi?” Julien said, belligerence dripping off him at being questioned.

“I assume you just asked me why? And here’s your answer. You smell like you spent the day in a bar.”

“I did,” Julien said, unashamed.

Priest narrowed his eyes, searching for some hint as to what was going on, but came up with nothing. Maybe this was Julien’s usual behavior. It wouldn’t be that big a stretch of the imagination, considering what Priest knew of him. He’d seen this kind of destructive behavior the first time they’d met, and had it confirmed the night he’d bailed Julien out of jail.

As Julien rubbed his fingers over his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut, Priest thought he looked like someone trying to banish something from his mind, and couldn’t help but wonder if that were the case or if he was just getting an alcohol-induced headache.

“Mr. Thornton?” Priest said, and waited for Julien to open his eyes. “As delighted as I am to see you here this afternoon, do you want to perhaps tell me what’s wrong?”

“Wrong?”

“Yes,” Priest said, his voice softening now as his irritation and impatience drained from him. “Clearly there’s something going on with you. Why are you here?”

Julien’s glassy eyes tried to focus, but when it was obvious he was struggling, Priest found himself getting to his feet and coming around to where Julien sat. He crouched down in front of the man who had once boldly told him he was stealing his car, and looked into the pale face of a stranger, who right now looked scared of his own shadow.

“Julien?” Priest said, and reached up to cup either side of Julien’s face. “Why are you here?”

Julien brought his hands up to cover Priest’s, and then leaned forward on his seat until they were practically nose to nose. “Because I deserve to suffer, monsieur. That’s why I’m still here.” Priest didn’t dare move, that answer not at all what he’d expected. As Julien’s eyes slid shut, he whispered, “But I won’t let them have her.”

“Who?” Priest said in a voice he barely recognized. “I don’t understand…”

“Jacquelyn,” Julien said, and then blinked. A tear slipped free of his eye and ran down to where Priest’s hand was resting. “They want to know…but I won’t tell… You can help. You can make it so they can’t have her.”

“All right,” Priest said, agreeing without understanding the first thing about what he was agreeing to. All he knew was that he would’ve said or done anything to stop the pain Julien was so obviously feeling. “I’ll help you. Whatever you need.”

“Merci, Mr. Priest,” Julien whispered, and when his lips curved into a half smile, that dimple appeared on his cheek, and Priest couldn’t help but stroke it. “I like the color of your hair.”

The comment was so far removed from what they’d been discussing that it made Priest chuckle, and then Julien leaned forward and skimmed his lips over the top of Priest’s in one of the sweetest, yet saddest, kisses he had ever received.

“I did it,” Julien said when he raised his head, and Priest was close enough to see the darker ring of jade around Julien’s irises—they were extraordinary, but then again, so was his entire face.

“You did what?”

“I found something I liked better than me right now,” he said, reminding Priest of the last conversation they’d had.

“And what’s that?” Priest said, and felt his heart almost stop when Julien touched his fingers to his lips and said, “You.”

PRIEST STEPPED OUT of the elevator on the third floor and placed a hand on the wall to steady himself. He hadn’t thought about that day in years. Julien had been a mess—both physically and emotionally. It had been the day after he’d stormed off the set of Chef Master, having refused to talk about his sister, and it had also been their first kiss.

Priest still remembered the way his heart had just about stopped at that simple touch. It had been sad and short, and everything a first kiss shouldn’t be. But for him, it had been magic.

A shock straight to his heart. A flash of recognition that he was staring into the face of fate, and from that day on, nothing could’ve stopped him from hunting down Julien Thornton with the single-minded focus of a dog with a bone—just as he was now.

AFTER PRIEST LEFT, Robbie made his way out of the kitchen and decided to head in the opposite direction to which they’d come. The house was, as Priest had said, way too quiet as he walked down the hall, and Robbie couldn’t begin to imagine what it must’ve been like to grow up in a place like this.

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