Page 84 of Deacon

“Why not?”

“Because medicine does not work that way.”

Priest folded his arms. “Seems like that’s exactly how medicine ought to work.”

A low sound came from Ink that might have been a laugh. Priest ignored him.

“You said there are no jobs in Bay,” he continued. “A new ER would need people who know how to run one.”

“Oh my God,” Blue muttered.

“It would need you.” His gaze moved toward Evan and me. “And people you trust beside you.”

I stared at him. “You can’t solve every emotional problem by building infrastructure.”

Priest considered that. “Wanna bet?”

Evan laughed before he could stop himself. I dropped my forehead into one hand. “He’s serious.”

“He is,” Evan said, sounding delighted despite everything. “That’s the best part.”

Ink pushed away from the doorway. “Prez gets like this when he decides something matters.”

Blue turned toward him slowly. “I am sitting right here.”

“And?” Ink asked. “He’s gonna build you a damn ER, Doc.”

Priest’s mouth twitched. “I’m not saying we break ground tomorrow. I’m saying there’s a solution.”

“There are permits,” Blue snapped. “Licensing. Equipment. Compliance. A thousand things you can’t glare into submission.”

“Good.” He nodded once. “That’s a plan.”

“It is not a plan. It is a migraine wearing boots.”

Evan pressed a hand to his chest. “I would like that embroidered on something.”

The absurdity almost hid how serious Priest remained. “Fallen Harbor benefits too. Fallen Angels know that better than anyone. They’ve got people running federal contracts through their town, and they still don’t have fast medical access if something goes wrong on their side of the county.”

Ink’s amusement faded into thought. “He’s not wrong. A facility there gives both territories neutral ground. Medical, not club. Useful to everyone.”

What landed for me was the medical part. In an emergency, every mile between a patient and treatment mattered.

“For us too,” Ink continued. “Deacon was east. Wicker Falls was the right call for him. But west of Bay, toward Fallen Harbor, there’s a hole in the map. If somebody goes down out there, distance gets a vote.”

Priest looked back at Blue, smug satisfaction pulling at one corner of his mouth. “This isn’t just about you.”

I wanted the whole idea to remain ridiculous. The timing certainly deserved ridicule. But beneath Priest’s delivery, it had a spine. Bay of Saints needed better emergency access toward Fallen Harbor, and too many people depended on distance being kind when seconds mattered.

Distance had never been kind.

Little Jax shifted against Blue’s chest, wrinkled his tiny face into a fierce scowl, and released an indignant grunt. Evan leaned forward immediately. “That’s right, little man. Tell your father he can’t start civic projects because he’s emotionally compromised.”

Priest looked at his son. “He doesn’t seem opposed.”

Blue broke into tired, unwilling laughter, clutching Jax closer while the absurdity softened the room. When she finally caught her breath, she shook her head at Priest. “You are impossible.”

“Maybe.” The humor left his face. “But I’m not leaving you here unprotected.”