“I didn’t put my hands on you in anger, angel.”
My eyebrows rose into my hairline in disbelief, and I scoffed, “Well, you sure didn’t put them on me for a tickle fight. You seemed angry enough in the confessional and more than willing to light me up with that taser.”
“That wasn’t personal. It was just business.” Priest looked stone-cold serious, yet I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Okay, Mr. Coreleone. From my end of the taser, it seemed pretty personal.” I put the pointer finger of my free hand to my chin and hummed, “Hmm, does this mean you choose option A?”
A huffed breath escaped Priest’s lips. “I meant I didn’t take you down there because I was angry. I wanted answers, not cathartic bloodshed. You’re dangerous, and Ineedto know what threat you pose to us here. I’ve been trying to figure you out, and I keep coming up with nothing.”
I roll my eyes. “You absolute goober. You dideverythingyou could to figure out who I am and what I’m running from, did you? Did you try”—I shrug—“oh, I don’t know…asking me? Or trying to get to know me so I’d maybe open up and share with you? No, of course not. Why bother earning something if you can just take it by force instead?”
Glaring up at me, Priest gritted his teeth together, probably in an attempt not to say something that would make me feel stabby.
“Go ahead, Growly Gus, say what you want to say.” I inched my knife back slightly, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Whatever he was about to say wasn’t easy for him.
“I failed to protect my family once when it really mattered. A threat I hadn’t anticipated swept in and broke us in a way I wouldn’t wish on anyone else. I…” Tension seemed to flow out of Priest suddenly, his body relaxing back onto the bed. Sorrowful blue eyes met mine. “I can’t let it happen again on my watch. If I had spent more time watching over and protecting my sister, maybe she’d still be here. I’d rather dig my own grave than be blindsided by tragedy again.”
My knife arm relaxed a bit, and I gazed down at my left hand where it rested on Priest’s chest. “We don’t have to be friends if you don’t want to. I promise I’m not out to cause problems, and I wasn’t sent here to spy or wreak havoc, or whatever it is you think I’m trying to do. I’m sorry I got to Hoodie Guy before you could kill him, but I’m not sorry for doing what I had to do to survive. I’ve always done what needed to be done, and I can’t apologize for it. Ellis deserved vengeance, and you deserved to be the one who exacted it. But I didn’t steal it from you.” He nodded his head once to acknowledge my statement but remained silent, waiting for me to continue. I licked my lips, quickly deciding what I could share with him when we were at a place of absolutely zero trust. “You saw, on the camera, when I was talking to Duke and Bones in church?”
Priest gave another nod, and my heart sank into my stomach at the thought that he heard what I’d confessed. Sensing my rising panic, Priest lifted his hands to my hips, giving them a steadying and reassuring squeeze before he added, “I heard what you said to a point. The audio cut out when you were about to explain whatever it is you’re running from. Cricket listened on headphones, but I couldn’t hear what you told Bones and my father.” My face crumpled a bit in relief before I remembered why I was sitting in the dark with Priest in the first place. “I told them…enough…so that they would understand what I’m running from and why.” I suddenly felt nervous and shifted my hips, causing Priest to grip them harder as he let out a soft grunt. I wondered if I was hurting him, which caused me to snicker, considering everything that had gone down between us. I woke him with a knife to his throat, and now I’m worried about accidentally hurting him?
Suddenly, I felt evidence that I was very muchnothurting Priest. In fact, I started to get the impression that he didn’t mind me sitting on him at all. Thanking Bob for the darkness thathopefullyhid the blush spreading across my cheeks, I lifted myself off Priest’s hips and scrambled off his bed. I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea; I was looking for peace with Priest, nota pieceof Priest.
“Your dad and Bones, and Cricket too, know what I escaped. They know why I’m hiding and who’s looking for me. They think it’s okay if I stay, so you’ll have to trust their judgment for now.” I folded up my knife and tucked it into the band of my sleep shorts. Grabbing Ratched’s medical kit from the nightstand, I backed toward the door as Priest sat up in bed. His feet hit the floor, his elbows resting on his knees and hands steepled beneath his chin as he watched me approach the door. I grasped the doorknob behind me with one hand, clutching Ratched’s bag in the other.
“I’m glad you chose option B, Growly Gus. If I’d had to amputate your hand, it would have made this next part a little awkward. I know you don’t like me, and to be completely honest, I’m not your biggest fan right now. However, I’d like to suggest a truce. You resist the urge to choke me out and torture me for information, and I’ll behave myself and promise not to do anything to cause problems for the Crows. I can’t guarantee my past won’t catch up with me, but I can promise that I’ll doanything withinmypower to keep my past life far, far away from Los Cuervos.”
Priest let out a deep breath and rose from his rumpled bed. He slowly stalked toward me where I was pressed against the door, and for a reason I couldn’t name and didn’t want to examine, I froze on the spot. He stopped inches away from me, and because of our height difference, I had to tip my face up to meet his eyes. He braced one forearm on the door, leaning into me and bringing his face down to meet mine. His lips brushed against the shell of my ear as he murmured, “You’ve got yourself a deal, angel. Truce.” He pulled back andI couldn’t stop staring at the lips that caused goose bumps to erupt all over my body when they simply brushed my ear. What would it be like if he…
I fumbled the doorknob with a palm suddenly slicked with sweat and gulped as I nodded my head. “Can I ask you something?”
Priest nodded his head.
“Why do you call me angel? Angels are good, and I’m… not. I’ve seen and done a lot of bad things.” Shame rolled through me.
“I called you angel, but I didn’t say what kind.” I looked into Priest’s eyes, confused as to what he meant. My expression made him chuckle.
“Demons were angels once before they fell from grace. They fell and were damned, but that didn’t destroy their beauty. That’s the kind of angel you remind me of; wings tattered from the fall, but still a fucking angel nonetheless.”
I took a shaky step back through the doorway once I got my sweaty palms to twist the knob and started to walk back to my room when I heard a hissed “psst” from Priest. I looked over my shoulder and raised a brow in question.
“Just so you know, the next time you wake me up straddling me, our conversation will end very differently, angel. I don’t bluff either.”
I stood blinking owlishly for a few seconds after Priest’s door snicked closed as I processed his words. I let out a shaky breath and shook my head. It would take me ages to untangle my thoughts and feelings over what had gone down in the past forty-eight hours, and I needed sleep before I even approached my interaction with Priest in his room. After a quick pit stop to drop Ratched’s bag back into his room—seriously, these guys really should lock their doors—I returned to my room and slippedback into my bed. Where to go from here was an issue for tomorrow-Indigo. Settling in, I shuffled through songs in my mind.Choosing one of my favorite lullabies, I began to hum to myself, but before I could even get to the second verse of “Angel of the Morning,”I was already asleep.
Chapter 18
Indigo
A padded fist cracked me across the jaw. I grinned manically and cackled, delighted that my Sith apprentice (a.k.a. Lennon) was coming along quite nicely. While she rarely joined me for my morning runs around the compound, Lennon was delightfully dedicated to our training sessions in Los Cuervos’ gym. We must have had a ’roided out fairy godmother because it seemed like more and more equipment was added to the small gym every week. Sometime after we started our lessons, a navy-blue heavy punching bag was added, then some new free weights… a week or so later, a freestanding AC unit mysteriously appeared; now we had full sparring gear too. I wasn’t sure who to thank for our newest addition, a fancy-looking stationary bike with a tablet hooked up to it so users could stream workout videos while exercising.
I returned my attention to my opponent, a sweaty and tired-looking Lennon. Her swings were getting sloppy as her energy dwindled, which caused our audience to shout out uninvited encouragement and advice.
“Just tackle her, take her to the mats!”
“Protect your face, keep movin’… thatt’a girl. Now jab, JAB!”
“Kick her in the cooch!”
