Priest raised an eyebrow. “I think I can keep up.”
I huffed impatiently. Seriously, he didn’t have to kidnap me to ask about Bob. “Fine. The family that raised me is Catholic. One time when I was little, I said something I’d heard yelled at me a lot, always when someone was mad or impatient. They’d screamgoddammit,so I thought that was just what you did when you were mad.”
Priest nodded his head. “Seems understandable.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, well, one day, my uncle heard me say it, and he punished me. Severely. He said that everyone else could take God’s name in vain because they had been baptized and were saved. God loved them. But not me.” Priest’s eyes were glued to mine. “My uncle told me that God could never love someone as worthless and disgusting as I was, and if I made him mad by taking his name in vain, then my uncle would punish me in this life, and God would punish me in the next.”
You’d think dredging this particular memory up from the back corner of my mind would make me more upset and hysterical, given my status as a captive. Maybe that was why Priest brought it up, to manipulate me and make it easier to do whatever he planned on doing next. But quite the opposite occurred. I’d rather be here, tied to a chair in a glorified root cellar in Nevada, than be in the softest, comfiest bed in Uncle Roark’s basement. Anything was better than that.
“Well,” I said to the Grumpy Gus in front of me, “long story short, I didn’t want to make God angry because if he was anything like my uncle, he’d keep an eternal suffering to-do list. I substitutedBobforGodbecause I figured no one cared how often Bob’s name was taken in vain.”
“Do you believe in God?” Priest asked.
“I don’t know, but I figured why take the risk?”
I took stock of my situation now that I was a bit calmer. It was just Priest and me in the cellar tonight, and it made me wonder why the hell I was back down here. I’d adhered to all of Duke’s guest rules, and I’d been as honest with them as it was safe for me to be. As far as I was aware, I hadn’t done anything to make anyone angry. I’d even gone out of my way not to slit Pyro’s throat every time he spews toxic, misogynistic shit from his face hole. I mean, I know I’m not Priest’s favorite person…but I didn’t realize he hated me enough to subject me to the creepy cellar again.
“Do you know why my road name is Priest?” He asked his question with his back to me as he walked to the far wall in the dungeon, which was lined with a table and a tall upright tool chest. He turned to face me, leaning back against the table and crossing his arms over his chest. His black Henley pulled tight across his pecs and biceps, and I couldn’t helpbut admire how yummy he looked. I was tied up, not dead or blind, and you’d have to be not to see how smokin’ hot Priest was. He could probably lead the Red Flag Parade, but he’d be hot while he did it. He had the whole broody, sexy, bad-boy vibe going on, and it made me feel some kind of way. Priest raised an eyebrow, and I realized he was waiting for an answer.
“Oh, uhm…no.” I shrugged as much as I could with my arms tied to the arms of the chair. “I figured maybe you were a man of the cloth before you realized that motorcycle gangs were more fun than being a member of the Pope Squad, or maybe you fell in love with a nun, but you got caught and separated from her. She wouldn’t leave the church to be with you because she really liked wimples, so you renounced your orders and left the church and fell into a life of iniquity?”
Priest rolled his eyes and sighed. “This isn’t a damn Lifetime movie, Jesus. I don’t know why I bothered to ask.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Hey, man, did I tie you to a chair and ask you your thoughts on my name? No. Don’t ask the question if you don’t want the answer. Why don’t we speed things up, and you can just go ahead and tell me what your name means since you brought it up.”
“They call me Priest because when I interrogate people, I always get their confessions. When Los Cuervos needs information, I get it. It’s a priest’s job to guide, listen, and to exorcise demons.” He spread his arms. “This is my confessional.”
I tilted my head to the side. “Is that so, Padre? And are we here to exorcise my demons…or your own?”
Priest’s already icy-blue eyes got even colder. “You couldn’t handle my demons.”
I snarked back, “You have no idea what I can handle, Priest.”
“Ah,” he said, “you’ve got me there. That’s why you’ve found yourself in the position you’re in. Idon’tknow what you can handle. I don’t know much about you at all. You came bursting into our lives, moved into the clubhouse, and you’ve been here for weeks. We still don’t know much more about you than when you first arrived. You’re holding out on us, and I want to know what you’re hiding. You might have Bones fooled, and Duke might be grateful enough to look the otherway when it comes to you, but not me. I. See. You. You’re hiding something, and I want to know what it is.”
“Is that so? You thought, what? You’d knock me out, lock me in your dungeon, and we’d have a sharing circle and braid each other’s hair, and I’d confess all my deepest thoughts and desires? You do know that people are going to notice that you and I are MIA in a few hours, right? Did you think no one would think to check the video feed from the camera in the corner? I guess it’s a good thing you’re in the business of taking confessions and not party planning because I have to say it’s not the best thought-out idea.”
Now, it was Priest who huffed out a laugh. “You’re not wrong. I saw an opportunity tonight, and I took it. I can be a bit impulsive, it’s true. Usually, I’d have a strategy and take my time with you, wringing out all the information I need. Time is of the essence tonight, though, so I’ll need to work fast.”
“Darn, here I was looking forward to the full Priest experience,” I snark. Priest was looking for a certain response from me, namely fear and anxiety. I couldn’t manage to get it up for him, though. I’d been in this situation with men who were much, much scarier than Priest, and I couldn’t help but feel like, despite his attitude, Priest didn’t actually want to hurt me. Maybe I was crazy because usually, when a guy knocked you out and tied you to a chair in a hole in the ground, he didn’t have your best interests at heart. It was a total red flag, for sure. My gut told me that Priest wasn’t really a bad guy; he was just in a bad place and didn’t know how to handle it. Like a puppy that bit because he was scared of the vacuum. Maybe Priest just needed a boop on the snoot.
Priest snapped his fingers in my face, drawing me away from the image of me smacking him in the nose with a rolled-up newspaper and back to the cellar.
“I don’t think you’re taking your situation seriously, Indigo.”
“Uhm, I take torture super seriously, thank you very much. I’d pinky promise, but you know…” I shook my hands a bit in their restraints. “I’m currently unable. So, what’s up first? Are you gonna start small and work your way up to the rough stuff? Oh, no. You said time was an issue,” I said, winking up at him. “See, I listen.” I leaned over the arm of my chair to see which instruments he had laid out on the table. A hammer, pliers, a scalpel, a few knives, and a butane torch. Not very creative, but hey, I wasn’t trying to judge. I gave Priest a thumbs-up.
“Christ,” he mumbled under his breath, “I should have gagged her.”
“Well, that’s just silly. How can I confess if I’m gagged? You sure this isn’t your first time?” Priest’s eyes flared. I guess he wasn’t used to his victims sassing him. Joke was on him, though, because I’d been through this particular dog and pony show before and he’d have to be a lot scarier to get me to flinch.
Clenching and unclenching his fists, Priest strode stiffly to the upright tool chest and grabbed something out of the second drawer. He walked behind me, and I had a moment as the air shifted in his wake to think “mmm, he smellsnice” before fire erupted in my veins. All of my muscles contracted at once as I jerked in my restraints, pain lancing through every atom I possessed. That dickbag tased me! Standing in front of me now, Priest watched as I writhed and twitched.Oh, I’m gonna dropkick him in the taint as soon as I get out of this chair.I glared at him as best I could while my body slowly unclenched. Minutes passed before I had enough control to speak without biting my tongue off.
“Very good, Priest, though, if I could give you a note…you’re supposed to ask a question first if you intend to get answers out of your session. Unless I misunderstood the assignment, and you don’t want answers, and this is just some kinky fuckery you get up to. If that’s the case, then my safe word isbelly button.” Apparently, Priest didn’t appreciate constructive criticism because he tased me again. What a twat! After my twitches subsided, and I was sagging in my chair, panting, Priest finally spoke.
“You’re hiding something from us, and I want to know what it is.”
“You know,” I huffed out, “you’ve never actually asked me any personal questions before. I assumed you didn’t want to be friends, so I left you alone. Next time you want to get to know a girl, maybe try asking politely? Jumping straight to the confessional seems a bit extreme.”
