5. Priest

I don't knowwhat came over me, but my feet locked in place and my heart hammered in my chest and for a second. I forgot who I am and where I was and what I was meant to be doing; which was not staring at this girl.

What is wrong with me?

Why was I so enamored with her? Was it just the fact that I genuinely want to help her get back on her feet, or something more? And how could it be something more? She is down on her luck, looking to make a better life for herself… not getting mixed up with a biker. Certainly not after some of the shit that's gone down recently.

The NOLA Rebels stay out of all things 1% related, but that doesn't mean that shit doesn't find us from time to time. The recent shoot out with the Caruso crime family isn't something I care to think about, and I've been dealing with some of the fallout from the brothers, like Nevada who has never shot anyone before but killed three people during it. If you could even call some of those monsters people. Especially Salerno Caruso.

The Caruso's have been quiet of late; not even Big Papa has heard shit. Seems like they bought the idea that the meeting went south and the Devils Ink were the ones to deliver the final blow. As the weeks passed, the club waited for retaliation, but nothing came. Just like all things that come to me in a way that makes me feel unsettled, I feel that this is far from over. I know that Carlo Caruso will want answers, and if he's not getting them soon, who knows what tact he'll resort to.

Flying under the radar can only last so long. I know that Big Papa is trustworthy and he has everything at stake should it come out he was present. But he has a family too, people he cares about. There's always the issue that he could rat us out to save his own hide, but that's a bridge we'll cross if and when we come to it.

Big Papa hates the Carusos with a passion, his loyalty is to the Irish and the NOLA Rebels.

"Crowd the mushrooms?" I repeat. "What does that mean?"

She smiles softly and I love the dimples in her cheeks when she does so. She has a sweet, kind face and the prettiest eyes. "Exactly as it sounds. When you sauté them in the pan, they need room to breathe." How come that sounds exactly like something she'd say about herself?

"Oh, I get it." I'm a basic cook. I can make three or four dishes really well and nuke a mean pizza, but nothing like this. It's restaurant quality. "It's like the mushrooms need their own zip code."

She laughs and it's a terribly pleasant sound. "Yeah, that's kinda what it's like. The trick to enhance the most from the flavors is adding both white wine and chicken stock, usually it's one or the other, and traditional carbonara has no mushrooms. So really, it's more like a boscaiola sauce."

"You're not Italian by any chance?" I laugh.

She opens her mouth and closes it again, her eyes wide and cautious. "Is it that obvious?"

"No. It's just that you prefer Italian dishes it seems. Plus, you mentioned your nonna taught you to cook."

She turns back to the stove, her demeanor suddenly shifting. I feel the tension radiating off her.

"I'm glad you like it," she mutters.

I can't figure this girl out, but something about her body language tells me I've said the wrong thing. "I just meant that it's great, Bella. You did a great job."

She looks up at me and gives me a shy smile. "Thanks."

I walk away, unsure of what the fuck I did or said. Then I hear one of the regular dudes asking about someone called Sarah. His name is Rueben and he's trouble. He hangs around here a little bit, and I know he was dealing drugs for a time. Trouble is, here we can't discriminate and turn anyone away, unless they're unruly or intoxicated or trying to deal.

"There's no one here who works by that name," Payden says. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, she's small, wears a baseball cap and a hoodie. Pretty with blue eyes…"

He's talking about Bella, and he thinks her name is Sarah.

I walk up to the counter and cut Payden's reply off. "Nobody here works by that name, people come and go all the time," I say. He turns his gaze to mine and immediately his stance changes. He's all pleased to meet you with the girls, but that same merriment isn't extended to me, it seems. Fine by me. "Don't mean to be rude, but you're holdin' up the line, bud."

He looks behind him at the que and then takes his tray and makes for a table. Damn asshole. Why is he asking for Bella? Of course I know why. She's vulnerable and sweet, and an asshole like him would just love to get to know her.

Anger boils deep within me. My mask in place, I smile pleasantly at the next person and start loading Bella's pasta intoa bowl.

"Why was he asking about Bella and calling her Sarah?" Payden whispers.

"I don't know," I reply. "But let's not draw his attention any further. I'll keep her out in the kitchen tonight. He's a drifter anyway. With any luck he'll be leavin' soon."

"I know we're meant to be nice to everyone," she goes on. "But he gives me the creeps."

I glance up and Rueben's eyes meet mine. A chill goes through me. He's not a good guy, and now I have to keep an eye on Bella because I don't trust him, especially if he's got his sights set on her.

We have a two buddy policy here; nobody leaves the restaurant alone. Even though 99% of people do the right thing, there's always the few that slip through the cracks.

Dan will be back next week and I'm already committing myself to being here more than I was before. I tell myself it's because of the greater good, and not for Bella.

As the night winds up, that Rueben guy leaves without another word. I've decided that no matter what, Bella isn't going to be walking home alone. The shelter may only be a few blocks away, but it's late, cold and dark. She takes me up on my offer for a ride and she's buzzing with excitement about how tonight went.

Everyone enjoyed the spread, and it's clear Bella is feeling quite proud of herself, especially when Manny gave her applause. I think it's done wonders for her confidence and I hope she takes my advice about culinary school. I make a mental note to talk to Linda about it, and Dan. He may be able to steer her in the right direction so she can get back on her feet.

"You don't think Manny was just being kind, do you?" she asks as I chuckle to myself.

"Uh, you know how upfront and in your face he is. He wouldn't praise you if he didn't think it was worthy," I say. "He's a good guy, but he gets in trouble all the time with that big mouth of his."

She smiles wide. "I can see that about him."

"You did an awesome job, you should be proud of yourself."

She hugs herself. "It felt good, being… useful, ya know?"

"I get it, and when other people enjoy it too, it feels even better."

"Did people really enjoy the food that much?"

"Didn't you see all the clean plates?"

"I guess I figured people were just hungry."

"Nope. They loved it."

Her whole demeanor uplifts and it's palpable. It makes me feel good inside.

"I always knew my nonna's cooking was excellent, but you never really know how other people will feel about it."

"Well, you proved something tonight, Bella. We're all proud of you."

I feel her glance at me. "Thanks, Priest, that means a lot."

"Hey, I didn"t do anything, you're the one who took a leap of faith."

"It's easy when you have encouraging people around you. I've never had that before."

I don't want to pry, but opening up is the only way she's going to be able to free herself from the chains she drags around. It'll lighten the load.

"I had a difficult family too. Growin' up wasn't the easiest, but I got through it and only just reconnected with my real Father."

She turns to glance at me. "Really?"

I nod. "My mom was a junkie and not a good person. When my little sister was born, she cleaned up her act for a few years, but like most things it never lasted. We bounced in and out of foster care, and that was no picnic."

"Priest, I'm sorry."

I didn't mean to make this about me, but I hope we'll find some common ground.

"What happened? Did you eventually find a good foster family?"

"Luckily, yeah, but by then I was already doin' my own thing. I left when I knew my sister would be taken care of. Landed myself in jail a coupla times, but it was the biggest wakeup call I've ever had. It changed me for the better. I found my calling, and now I try and help other people. I sponsor parolees as well, if I know they're capable of rehabilitation. Like me, most were petty criminals…" The people I killed deserved it, so that hardly seems worth mentioning. Plus, I don't want to scare her.

"That's so kind of you."

I snort. "Trust me, it didn't feel that way at first. I was angry, but once I dealt with those issues, I found a higher purpose. I was free."

"I like the sound of that."

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

She shakes her head. "I always wanted a sister. Someone I could talk to and do things with. I have a lot of cousins, but they're not exactly people I gel with."

"You're from around here?"

She shakes her head. "Texas, but my family has always had ties in New Orleans. My mom died when I was a little girl in a car accident; a head on collision. And my father… well, let's just say that he never acted like I existed in his company. Now he's gone too, and I don't even feel anything… does that make me a bad person?"

So she's got no parents? But she does have lots of cousins and other family, not ones she'd care to interact with, though. She'd rather be homeless, living in a shelter. I find that incredibly sad.

"Of course not," I say. "If you feel that way then that tells me your father wasn't a good man."

"He wasn't," she admits. "He did a lot of bad things."

"Then it's okay to not feel anything. I don't know what you've been through, but if you're on the street, then I'll take a wild guess that it wasn't good."

She shakes her head. "It wasn't. But that part of my life is over now. I'm free."

"So, what can I or Father Dan or Linda do to help you get back into the community?" I have to be gentle with her.

She stiffens slightly. "I won't be staying here. I just need enough money to get to Texas."

"Does your family live there?"

"Most of them, but that's not why I'm going."

"Then why?"

She shrugs, and instantly I know she doesn't want to tell me. "It's a place I know well. I don't know New Orleans… I can't stay here, not long term."

"Well, we can look at options in Texas. They may have somewhere you can transfer to, they have sister shelters, if that would make life easier for you?"

"It's just an idea… I have… I have something to collect, an inheritance, or something."

I frown. Okay?

I mean, I could give her the bus fare, it'd be nothing. But something tells me that she's in two minds. I also don't like the idea that she'd be all alone in another state.

"Are you definitely sure that there's no family that can help you out short term?"

She turns to look at me as I meet her gaze for a second. She looks… sad again. Her newly found vigor and excitement slowly dissipated. "There's nobody I'd trust."

I nod. "Got it."

"Sometimes you can have the biggest family in the world, but that doesn't mean you"re close to any one of them, if that makes sense."

"It makes perfect sense."

"I always thought I'd have a big family too, someday, but now I don't know why you"d bring a child into this world when there's so much misery and suffering."

I watch the road as she turns to look out the window. "I guess I like to believe that there are good people in the world, too, even if sometimes it doesn't feel like it."

"You're right, that was unkind of me."

"No," I say. "It's the truth; sometimes there is so much suffering. My purpose is to try and relieve that just a little bit. Every act of kindness, no matter how small, could be the one thing that saves somebody. That's how I like to look at it, and it's what gets me through those dark days."

She turns her head sideways against her knees, still hugging them to her chest. I wonder what's behind those icy depths. I know she's intelligent, and articulate. She's not somebody who's been on the streets for long, certainly not years. "You're a good man, Priest." Her words are soft.

"I try to be. But I wasn't for a long time."

She takes a long breath. "One of the reasons I ran away was because my family were forcing my hand in marriage."

My mouth falls open in surprise. "For real?"

She nods. "It's very common in many cultures, and not as outdated as some people think."

"Did you know the guy you were supposed to marry?"

"Yes… I… let's just say he's not husband material, well, not my kind of husband anyway."

"Did he mistreat you?"

"Yes. He slapped me once when I talked back, never in front of my family, not that they"d care. He's from an affluent family too. We never… did anything. I'm supposed to save myself for marriage and I followed through on that, but that didn't stop him from skirting around town with whoever he chose. flaunting it in my face. And the kicker? My father knew about it and didn't care."

I stare at her, unable to comprehend.

She's a virgin?

And this asshole abused her?

"That sounds like a good enough reason to high-tail it. The asshole who put his hands on you, is that all he did?"

"Y– yes."

"I know what it's like to not feel like you belong, Bella, especially in your own family." I let that sink in for a second.

"Especially when domestic violence is encouraged to keep women in their place," she whispers.

My hands tighten on the wheel. I'd like to meet this motherfucker and give him a taste of his own medicine.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, and your family were no support."

"Like I said; none of them have any redeeming qualities. I've had more kindness and encouragement from complete strangers. My nonna was the only person I really kept in contact with, but she's on my mom's side."

"Do you have a phone?" I ask out of the blue.

She shakes her head. "I had to ditch everything when I escaped. My phone. Computer. Everything I owned."

"I'd feel better if you had one, for emergencies and safety."

"You don't have to do that, Priest."

"Without a phone or internet access, it's harder to navigate the world."

"It's too much."

"I can get a refurbished one that won't cost that much." I won't do that, but she doesn't need to know. "Think about it."

"Why are you being this nice?"

I frown. "I'm not. I guess sometimes I'm drawn to people and want to see them succeed."

"Is that what you want for me, Priest?"

"Of course. I have no agenda, Bella, other than to help you. So I don't want you to think I'm expecting anything from you in return. Anyone who does that is a piece of shit."

Her voice is soft when she says, "I'd never do anything unholy for money, if that's what you're suggesting."

"I know, but I've seen it before many times," I go on. "And sometimes young women think there's no other way, I'm here to tell you there is."

She laughs, surprising me. "I'm not going to go and sell my body on the street corner, I promise."

"Some things are sacred. No amount of money is worth…"

"My virtue?"

My heart races in my chest at her words. I shouldn"t be thinking about her like that; a virgin who's never been touched, but I meant what I said. I'm not here for that.

I can get pussy anytime at the clubhouse. Abstaining was my choice and mine alone.

To think that there could come a time when this precious creature could come unstuck and resort to some old pervert using her body for sex, makes me want to murder someone. The level of anger inside surprises me. I've spent many years controlling it, making sure that I practice restraint in all things. But I'm still human, after all.

I swallow hard. "Not just your virtue — your soul, Bella. That isn't for sale at any price."

"You almost sound like a priest," she laughs softly.

I chuckle. "No, but I'm old school. And there's a lot of bad people in the world who'd love to take advantage of you."

"But you're not like that." It's not a question.

"I may have been morally gray in a lot of my decision making when I was younger," I admit. "But disrespectin' women wasn't one of them."

We pull up to the shelter and she doesn"t leave straight away. Usually, she has her hand on the handle and she's out the door before I can blink.

We've gained a little bit of legwork tonight, and for that I'm glad.

"I believe it," she says. "Thanks for tonight, Priest. I really appreciate it."

I nod. "Of course. Any time. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Okay." She gives me a small smile and I return it. She leaves without another word and once again, I wait until she's inside before I take off from the curb. She gives me a small wave as she disappears inside.

Isabella Romano is precious, that much I know. Not that I needed her background story to realize any of that. I'm going to help her get out of this hell hole, I've decided. If it's the last thing I do.