Priest appreciated the offer, but there was no way he was about to involve any more innocent lives in the shit show that was his life. It was going to be hard enough to explain all of this when it was over—and it would be over, of that he was sure. Jimmy Donovan would be leaving their lives permanently real soon.
“Got it.”
“Right. I won’t keep you any longer.” And with that, Logan ended the call.
* * *
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
The sound of knuckles on the door of the suite had Robbie jumping out of his skin, even though he knew who was on the other side.
From the moment Priest had called him at work, to just minutes ago when he’d left to use the restroom, Robbie’s world had become a whirlwind, a vortex he’d been sucked into where he couldn’t seem to find any steady ground. Where the things he had learned seemed too horrible to fathom but, at the same time, too real because of the gaping hole in his chest where an integral part of him was missing—Julien.
It felt like forever since this morning, when the three of them had been together eating breakfast, and with every hour that passed, Robbie couldn’t help but feel more and more helpless.
Like a man on a mission, as soon as Priest had ended the call with Logan, he’d been on the phone with Henri, and under any other conditions, Robbie knew he’d be feeling a whole lot different over the fact he was about to officially meet Priest’s ex. Here and now, though, he was feeling relieved, which was crazy, because he didn’t even know the guy. All he knew was that Priest believed Henri could help them get Julien back, and that made Henri as important as the second coming of Christ, as far as Robbie was concerned.
Robbie stood on unsteady legs, about to go and open the door, when Priest walked out of the master bedroom and said, “I’ve got it.”
Grateful he wouldn’t have to deal with Henri on his own, Robbie sat back down but kept his eyes trained on Priest as he headed to the door. Robbie noticed Priest looked through the peephole, even though he’d talked to Henri and let him up only minutes ago, and the fact he took such care, such precautions, helped ease Robbie’s nerves—a little.
Priest unlatched the chain and then unlocked the deadbolt, then opened the door and stood off to the side. When he did, the tall, dark-haired stranger with the piercings and leather jacket from Julien’s restaurant walked over the threshold and into the suite—and just as he had last week, Henri made Robbie’s palms sweat.
“Hey there, Joel,” Henri said. Priest scowled at him. “Or should I call you Priest? You know, I can’t remember the last time you invited me to a hotel suite.”
Priest shut the door, and as he locked it, he said, “Call me whatever you want. I go by both.”
Henri shrugged and then looked over his shoulder, clearly sensing someone else in the room. When he spotted Robbie, Henri wandered into the living area and said, “What do you call him, bright eyes?”
Robbie looked to Priest, who was walking around Henri. “Priest. I usually call him Priest.”
Henri took off his jacket and sat down. “Yeah, I don’t know if that’ll work for me.”
“We’re not here to discuss it one way or another,” Priest said, cool as an arctic blast. “Jimmy called.”
At those two words, Henri’s spine stiffened, and Robbie noticed the way his jaw clenched—much like Priest’s whenever he spoke of his father.
“He called you? Here?” Henri said, and got to his feet, looking around as though Jimmy was going to appear behind him. “Why didn’t you tell me that over the fucking phone?”
Priest took another step in Henri’s direction. “Because I knew you wouldn’t come, and I needed you here.”
“You’ve got some fucking nerve, you know that?” Henri shook his head. “What if he’d tracked you?”
“I’ve had this phone less than a month—it’s private, per your instructions. So unless Jimmy has a tech-savvy thug on his roster he could contact in the last day, I think we’re good there.”
Henri narrowed his eyes until they were close to slits. “We could’ve met somewhere else. Anywhere, Joel. What if he’d been downstairs?”
“He’s not downstairs,” Priest barked. “His fucking face is all over the news. Not to mention he’s busy holding my husband fucking hostage somewhere. So I doubt he’s sitting in the lobby of The Peninsula waiting for your ass to show up.”
“And yet you didn’t want to leave him here alone,” Henri said as he jabbed a finger in Robbie’s direction.
Priest’s breathing was harsh as Robbie watched the heated exchange with curiosity. The two of them reminded him of rams about to charge and butt heads, and he had a feeling they shared a history that was as volatile as this exchange.