“YOU DIRTY CHEAT,” Robbie said. “You sent in Julien to get your way.”
“I’m not ashamed to admit that. Like you said before, Julien is easy to love.”
Robbie took a step toward him, and as he neared, Priest uncrossed his legs to allow him better access.
“You are too, you know.”
Priest shook his head and turned away to reach for the black turtleneck on the counter beside him. “We both know that’s not true. My love is a burden, Robert. Hasn’t this shown you that? It’s heavy. Too heavy.”
“Says who? You? There are two men in your life who would disagree. Julien got arrested to get your attention, and me? I got in your face at every opportunity just to remind you that I was there.” Priest turned back to face Robbie, who took the sweater from him. “Your love is exactly what Julien said—powerful. It’s intense, all-consuming, and takes two men to return it,” Robbie said, more serious than Priest had ever seen him.
Robbie walked to the door, and Priest called out, “You have my sweater.”
“I know. I want to hold on to it for a few minutes more,” Robbie said, as he took a long look at Priest. “I’ll give it to you when you come out.”
As Robbie disappeared out the door, Priest turned and looked at himself in the mirror and thought of Julien. His smile, that dimple, the way he laughed with his eyes that were so bright and full of life.
“Hold on, mon cœur, just a little longer.”
* * *
“YOU READY?” PRIEST asked as he and Robbie finally emerged from the master suite, and Henri looked up from his seat on the couch.
In boots, black jeans, a black lightweight shirt, and the same leather jacket he wore everywhere, Henri projected the image of exactly what he was—a man who existed in the shadows.
“Whenever you are.”
Priest inclined his head, and then turned to Robbie and took his face between his hands. “Okay. You go with Henri. Stay close to him. Do what he says, okay? That way, I know not to worry.”
Robbie nodded, and as Priest picked up the gun on the coffee table and put it in the back of his pants under his jacket, he said to Henri, “We do this just as planned. When you see Jimmy, you know what to do.”
“Are you sure?” Henri said.
Priest walked around the coffee table, and when he stopped in front of Henri, he looked him directly in the eye and said, “I’m trusting you with half of my heart here, and once I have the other half safe…”
Henri nodded, knowing exactly what he was saying. “You got it. Here, take my car tonight. Yours will be stolen in ten seconds flat if you don’t hide it in that part of town.” Henri handed him the keys, and then held his hand out. “Now, give me yours.”
Priest reluctantly handed over the keys to his Aston Martin.
“See, that wasn’t so hard. Now, go. I’ll take care of the sweet half of your heart, while you go and get the other half. Let’s end this tonight.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
CONFESSION
If you dance with the devil,
You better know all the steps.
I have been practicing for years.
PRIEST SLOWED HENRI’S nondescript black Ford to a crawl as he made the turn onto the street where his GPS directed him. The location was typical Jimmy, that was for sure. The seclusion, the skeletal remains of buildings that once were, and a river—a river was always a good option for someone who liked to dispose of people as though they were garbage.
Bile rose in Priest’s throat at the thought, but he squashed it down as he brought the car to a stop outside of Warehouse B. There were no lights, no gates, no security granting people entry and exit. Warehouse B sat empty, just as Jimmy had said. In fact, the entire street looked abandoned.
Priest tightened his hands around the steering wheel and looked at the timer on his phone: fifty-six minutes. Four minutes to spare. He looked in his rearview mirror at the desolate road behind him, before checking both of the side mirrors—nothing.
Henri was good. Priest had to give the fucker that, because he had no idea where Henri was right now with Robbie. But as Priest got out of the car and did a final scan of the dilapidated buildings and warehouses surrounding him, he knew Henri was in one of them, and kept that in mind as he walked around to the back of the car.
The night was eerily quiet as Priest opened the trunk, and once he’d grabbed the bags with the money, he left it that way—open—to keep his arrival as discreet as possible.
Get in. Get Julien. Then get the fuck out. That was what he’d been telling himself since he’d parted ways with Henri and Robbie back at the valet stand of The Peninsula. But Priest knew Jimmy, and had a gut feeling he wasn’t going to make things that easy.