11. Isabella

Priest chatson the ride back to his place. It's idle stuff like the weather and some of the things he's working on at home with his dad in the workshop. We stop at the grocery store and he buys some ingredients, asking if I have any preferences for dinner.

So the man cooks? Well I'll be damned.

I tell him I don't have any preferences, and he buys some ingredients to make a chicken stir-fry. He also buys popcorn and some bread and milk.

When we get back, I help him unload the groceries and he offers to bring my bags upstairs. I desperately want him to ask me about what happened in the store.

I want him to know what I got and that I hope he likes it. Of course, I can't ask him that. He's never going to see any of those things I bought, but the way his eyes assessed me hungrily when I called him into the dressing room makes me smile. It isn't my fault I hate creepy insects, but boy am I glad that I shrieked his name now.

I know he liked what he saw. I know that despite the fact I need to put on weight, he looked at me like I was something to be treasured. It made my heart flutter in my chest rapidly and the pulsing between my legs unbearable.

All I could think about was pleasing myself again when we got back from the mall. I can't help it when my mind wonders even more, imagining how good it would feel with him inside me.

If Priest were my first, would he take things slow? Or would he go fast like a bull at a gate?

I've only kissed Leo a few times, before him I've made out with guys but nothing too serious. Leo tried to get more out of me and wanted me to suck him off, but I refused. I told him that I'm supposed to be pure for marriage. It wasn't that I was repulsed by the idea of doing any of those things; I was repulsed by doing it with him. I didn't love him. I didn't care about him. And I definitely didn't have the same feeling as I do when I'm with Priest. When I'm with him, I feel like I can do anything.

I want to do things with him that make me blush. I want his big strong hands on me, guiding me, coaxing me. I imagine him on top of me, his big, hard body caging me in. What would it feel like? To have his dick inside me? To feel his hardness and enjoy every moment of our pleasure together. The more I think about it, the more I want it.

And I know I should be more concerned about how the heck I'm going to get out of this town for good, instead of fantasizing about this man I can't have. But he's everything. Not only did he come find me in my hour of need, but he's been nice to me way before that. He doesn't want anything from me. He does it because he wants to, not because he has to.

Even if I am still reeling about him being a part of a motorcycle club and what that means, it makes my situation harder. It makes me want to take off… but taking off could mean I'd get into trouble again. I wasn't even looking for trouble, and yet it found me. What happened with Rueben could happen to anyone, anytime, but the fact he noticed me and followed me and tried to attack me at my most vulnerable. It's made me reevaluate things. It's made me pause and take a breath. This man hurt me. I have the scars to prove it, but I won't let it stop me from doing what I have to do. I have to remain strong. My willpower is the only thing that has gotten me this far, and I won't let Rueben take that from me. Nobody can break my spirit.

When we're eating at the island, Priest gets a phone call. He groans. "I'm sorry, I have to take this, it's my sister and if I don't answer, she'll only come around and bug me."

I smile, sensing the playfulness of his words. "No problem."

"Hello?"

He puts her on speaker.

"Oh my God. You will never believe what happened in my apartment building?" she says, and before I can guess, she plows on. "The emergency fire alarm went off, then we all had to evacuate, and Milo was freaking out. I was terrified because he wouldn't come out from under the bed…"

"Did you manage to get out safely?" Priest asks.

"Yes, but now they're saying we can't go back inside until they've figured out what went wrong. Can I come over?"

His eyes go wide. "I'd normally say yes, but I have a friend here at the moment. Can't you go to one of your friends for the night?"

"Who's there? Not one of those cute boys from the clubhouse?"

"Uh, first, there are no cute boys in the clubhouse you should be noticin', and second, what is this, the Spanish Inquisition?"

"It's a girl, isn't it?"

I bite my lip as he quickly takes the phone off speaker. "Can you go to a friend"s place or not?"

I don't know what she says, but hearing Priest's cryptic replies makes me smile.

"… I'm not changin' the subject, I'm tryin' to make sure you have a place to crash tonight... Well text me when you hear back from her… Best case scenario is my couch, if you get desperate…" He turns to glance at me. "Not answerin' that… I gotta go… Very funny… I don't know who taught you words like that, but it sure as shit wasn't me… Goodbye, Hope." He hangs up, a smile on his lips.

"I take it your sister was curious about me?" I pop another spoonful of stir fry heaven into my mouth as he shakes his head.

"She's a meddler. I love her dearly, but she's always pokin' her nose in my personal life on the premise she cares and doesn't wanna see me a lonely old man." He chuckles. "Really she's just nosy and wants to set me up with someone because she thinks thirty-one is ancient."

"You're thirty-one?"

He turns those pretty eyes on me. "Yup. Why, did you think I was older?" His lips twitch again.

"No." I smile. "I really didn't know. You seem like you've lived a long life, an old soul, if that makes sense."

"It makes perfect sense. In fact, it's my sister"s favorite sayin', though, I'm sure she just thinks I'm old." He laughs.

My heart warms at the closeness of him and his sister. It's so sweet.

"So you have ten years on me," I say.

His eyebrows raise in surprise. "You're twenty-one?"

"Yep." Something doesn"t sit right with my answer; I can tell by the frown on his face, so I add, "What is it?"

He swallows hard. "You were almost married."

My heart hammers in my chest at the mention of it. But I already told him as much. "Yes, but I was never going to go through with it."

"But he hurt you."

I look down at my place, my voice soft when I answer, "That's how it is in families like mine. Your wife is second class. She answers to you. It made me mad that I had to go through with something like that, and in the end, I knew I couldn't do it. I couldn't live like that. It'd be like being a prisoner all over again, but instead of my father as the captor, it would be my husband." A shiver goes through me. "He wasn't a good man. I know I could never have been happy with him."

He stares at me for a long time, until his eyes drift away deep in thought. "I'm sorry your family are such assholes."

"It's okay," I say. "I've made peace with it. It hasn't been easy, but it's what they know. My father had the same upbringing, probably worse. His father — my grandfather — wasn't a decent man, either. He was heavy handed and his idea of discipline was with violence. It's learned behavior. I blame my father because he should've known better, everyone knows right from wrong."

It's the most I've probably ever said about it, but the truth is it still hurts me. I just wanted a normal relationship, but I can never ever have that. It's times like this that I miss my mom. Sometimes I miss her so much it hurts to think about.

"Remember, if you want to go to Texas, I'll take you," he says out of nowhere. "This week, I have some time now that Dan will be back."

My heart races in my chest. Yes!

"Uh, are you sure?"

He nods. "It's important to you that you do what you need to do, as long as you agree to come back with me so we can get you moving in the right direction. I don't want to just leave you alone in Texas."

"I'll come back with you," I say, maybe a little too eagerly. "I promise."

"Okay then."

I can't help it, I suddenly fling myself at him and give him a big hug, squeezing the life out of him. "I can't tell you what this means to me. Thank you, Priest, for everything."

He takes a second to recover as I pull back, realizing that I almost knocked him off the stool. He looks a little bewildered, running a hand through his hair. "You don't have to keep thankin' me. I told you before, I want what's best for you. There're good people in the parish who can help. We can make a game plan."

I perch back on my chair, the words tumbling out before I can stop them "Do you do this much for everyone you come across who needs help?"

His gaze moves to mine. "Are you askin' if I've done this before?" He makes a circle with his finger.

I guess I do want to know how many people he's brought to his home… how many women…

I nod.

"I don't bring anyone to my home," he says. "You're different because of what happened. It's not safe, especially if he's been watchin' you."

"What if he comes here?"

He snorts. "Over my dead body will he do anythin'. Guys like him are pretty gutless, but you don't have to worry about him."

I bite on my thumbnail, wondering if I should bring up the things Casey told me. If I don't, then when was he planning on saying anything? Or maybe he wasn"t?I also heard his sister on speakerphone asking if he was ‘at the clubhouse.'

I know I have to stay as far away from the club as possible. The more people I come into contact with, the better. Not that any of them know me, but New Orleans is a small town. I can't risk anyone seeing me and putting together the missing pieces.

"Casey…" I start. He turns to look at me. "She kinda let it slip that you're part of a motorcycle club."

His lips part as he takes in my words. "Casey has a big mouth."

"She told me that you weren't a one percenter club."

He runs both hands through his hair. "I wish Casey had let me tell you myself, but I didn't want to make you feel afraid, and that kind of news can be a little dauntin' to hear."

Admittedly, yes, but I trust Priest. "At first I was worried," I admit. "But I know that you're a good guy, and you wouldn't be involved in anything bad or illegal."

He takes a slow breath. "You put a lot of trust in me, Bella. I'm not sure that I deserve it."

"That isn't true."

"Which part?" He quirks a brow.

I know he's being playful, but I still want to tell him the truth. "The part that you don't deserve it. My life before this was… complicated. There are moving parts that can come back to haunt me that I… I just don't want to revisit it. I can"t go back. Ever." I don't mean to sound desperate, but I can't help it. If my family knew I'd faked my own death, they'd sure as shit put me in the ground for real.

Where I come from there are no second chances. But being around the MC is risky.

It's suicide if anyone recognized me. On the other hand, I'm not that important and my father kept me sheltered and out of the family business. I was just another one of his trophies. Something to put on a shelf and be forgotten about.

"You don't have to go back. I made a decision in my life, too, when I got out of jail. I turned my life around. I could've gone one way or the other. I know your situation is different, but it's still the same kinda thing. There's a fork in the road, Bella, you just have to choose which way to go."

"You make it sound so easy."

He smiles softly. "Never said it was easy, in fact, turning your life around can be hard. It's also not impossible. But it's worth it when you start to find happiness within yourself and not look for it in other people, or bad things like drugs and alcohol."

I don't want him to know how afraid I am hearing all of that. I don't know how to be happy, or to just live my own life. Some may think that's selfish because I lived in luxury — a poor little rich girl — but they"ve no idea how it is living around violence and people who claim to love you but never show kindness. I would've given up all the physical things to just have a relationship with my father, or anyone in my family who actually cared. I felt like I really just didn't belong to this family. Nonna said it's because I was too much like my mother. I felt too much. I cared too much. I wanted to fix everyone and be loved in return. Sadly, that's just not how it was for me.

"So what do I do from here?"

"We make a plan. We'll go to Texas and get your stuff, then we'll work with Dan to figure out a job… some place to live…"

Of course he was going to say that. But Priest doesn't know that I can never get a job. I'm supposed to be dead. I can't get a fake ID and Hail Mary my way out of this. It doesn't work that way.

I start to sweat.

The one thing I miss is confessional; I went to church every Sunday and used The Sacrament of Penance — or reconciliation, as it's now called — at least once a month. Not that I committed any grave sins, but I bore the brunt of my family"s sins and wore them as my own.

I knew Leo wasn't a good man and involved in selling drugs, and I looked the other way. I stayed quiet like a good little wife in waiting, thinking I could confess and then all my sins — as well as his — could be washed away. How wrong I was.

"What?" Priest says, shaking me out of my reverie.

"I have something to tell you."

That cute crease forms between his brow and I've come to really notice it more and more. Not that I'm happy about making him frown, but if he worries about me, that means he cares…. "What is it?"

I look down at my hands, wringing them together. "I…" I swallow hard. "This is really hard to admit."

He tilts my chin up to face him, his gentle touch sending electric currents through me. "Think of it like a confession. Even though I'm not technically a Catholic priest, I can still hear you out and offer advice."

I stare at him like he's some kind of mind reader. How the Hell would he know that was what I was just thinking?

"Would you do it?" I whisper.

"Do what?"

"Pretend."

He frowns again.

"To be my real priest?" I go on. "Sometimes it's easier…"

He scratches his chin. "I don't know, I've never really done anythin' like that, but if you feel more comfortable…"

"I would."

"Now?"

I shake my head. "I can't tell you this."

"I will never judge you, Bella," he says. His eyes are earnest and I believe him. "You can tell me anything."

I swallow hard.

I should not be doing this…

"I can't go home because I faked my own death."

A few moments pass by before his lips part. "Okay, so that wasn't what I was expectin' you to say, but now I've heard you say it, I have to wonder what the hell these people put you through to make you do that. Was it because of Leo and the marriage?"

"It's a long story," I admit. "One I might tell you someday in full, but for now, please understand that I'm not trying to be difficult or not wanting to take job opportunities, but if my family finds out I did this, they will kill me."

He cups one side of my face. My heart races in my chest as I press my legs together. "Nobody is goin' to hurt you, Bella." His face is stoic and deadly serious. "Like I said before; you're under my protection now, and that means you have the protection of the club, too."

My heart hammers in my chest. It does feel better to have let him know that. Now he might understand why I'm not going crazy at the idea of being independent and stepping out on my own.

He also doesn't push me to tell him more. Then again, it is far more intimidating than him facing me while I tell him one of my deepest, darkest secrets — as opposed to the confessional box. Not that I can tell him any real specifics about what my family do, but at least if he knows they're not good people, he might get off my back for a while.

"I appreciate that," I reply. "Even if I don't really know what it means."

"It means nobody can get to you. I promise you that. If I have to keep repeating it over and over I will: You are safe, Bella. I won't let any harm come to you."

I feel his words all the way down to my toes, even if doubt remains deep inside me.

He doesn't know how this works.

He doesn't know how betrayal works in a traditional family who regards rules like a testament from the Bible.

Still, I can live in this little bubble a while longer.

Even if I am deluding myself that there will ever be a happy ending for people like me, I'm still allowed to dream. Whatever happens from here, my dreams are free.

Nobody can take them.

It's all I have left.