CHAPTER TWENTY - FIVE

SHAW

This wasn't supposed to be my next trip to New York, but hey, fuck it. I can't think of a single safe route for them to get back to England other than this. And even that might not work out if it goes wrong or these assholes won't play ball.

I look around the area as I pull through the dusk slowly, searching for the church. It"s been a long ass day and I"m about done. Not useful for my mood.

"What are you looking for?" Miri asks.

"Church."

"Church?"

"Yeah. He's about my only way of getting you home."

"Who?"

"At least it's not another fucking den of-" Naja starts from the back.

"Naja. Stop. Please," Miri cuts across her. "Who are you trying to find, Shaw?" I look up, scanning the sky level behind the tall buildings, and eventually see a spire. "Shaw?"

Two more corners turned, and a drive past a run of boarded-up apartments, and we finally pull into the small parking lot by the church. I get out straight away, ready to stretch my legs and try thinking about how to play this. Not that I haven't been doing that since I came up with the loose plan in my head, but now I'm here, and it's real and threatening a priest, or, more precisely, Cane, to make this happens sounds fucking dumb. I mean, what a way to screw myself further into the mess I've created. Yeah, let's have both Cortez and Cane hunting my ass down for the foreseeable.

The faint sound of the car door closing behind me somewhere brings me back to the here and now again, and I look back at Miri as she approaches quietly.

"What's happening? Why are we here?" she asks, folding her arms.

"I'm gonna ask this priest for help."

"Why would a priest help us? And how? I've never heard of a priest that can get fake passports."

"I doubt he can."

"So, he knows someone else who can? This Logan guy?"

I nod. "Yeah."

"Great. Let's go then."

"It's not as simple as that."

"Really? Then why did we drive all this way? If you don't want to see this through, then we'll make our own way. Find the nearest police station and finally end this. Maybe that's the best answer."

"You think I'm gonna risk you going to a bunch of cops with everything you've been a part of?" I scoff and turn to look at the church again. "I might have pissed on my family for you, but don't doubt I'm still looking out for them in certain ways. Besides, it's too late for that. We're here now – on Cane ground. There isn't a cop in this city that doesn't report to him. You go to one of them, you even try mentioning Cortez and what you've been through, and he'll kill you for them. We're in the middle of a deal with him, and two runaway pieces of property won't mean shit to his ideals."

She frowns and walks around until she's in front of my face. "If that's true, why do you think he's going to help?"

"Because of this priest."

"Why?"

"Yeah, that's not my story to tell unless he forces it. Just let me talk with him, and don't speak." I walk on, dismissing her questions, and head up the side of the church towards the entrance. Gravel crunches underfoot, and the faded sound of the city echoes behind us. Other than that, it feels as close to peaceful as I've been for however long we've been running. A loose rattle of laughter comes out of me at the thought. Peace. Doubt I'm getting much of that for the rest of my life.

Two sets of feet come hurrying towards me as I reach the door, and I look back to find both Miri and Naja hovering a ways behind. Naja's still scowling at me like I'm the bad guy, and she's about to try killing me, and Miri, well, she looks as damn pretty as she always does. Light catches her face from one of the church lamps flickering on above her, and with this thought of peace running through my veins and these grounds we're on, I'm almost thinking of a different life for myself.

Shaking the thought off, I head inside the church and look around. No one's here that I can see. Just some dim lights on at the far end and a few candles burning up by the altar. Sheer fucking silence. Another wash of that peace comes over me, reminding me of the quiet footsteps following me.

"Hello." I look to my left, past the pews and the pillars, and watch a priest walk out of a corner I hadn't noticed. He moves silently, crossing the stone floor like it's barely there until he's close by and staring at me with a gentle smile. He looks different than he did in the images I saw of him – taller. Better looking, too. There's no doubting it's him, though. "What can I do for you?"

"You're Samuel Cleary?"

"Yes."

"I'm Shaw Cortez." Recognition of my name dawns on his face, but other than that, there's no movement or offer of conversation. "I need your help. I'd prefer you gave it freely."

Light blue eyes narrow at me, and he looks back at Miri and Naja before swinging those same, now pissed eyes, back at me. "This is a house of God, Mr Cortez. Be careful with your manners." He walks off the way he came and heads down to the front of the church, slowly putting out the candles rather than engaging any further in the discussion.

"House of God or not, I need your help, and I'll get it whichever way I can. Don't make me threaten you," I call. He puts the snuffer down and switches off some lights on the wall near him before turning to walk straight up the aisle towards me. In that moment, something about his stride changes. If I didn't hope better for a priest, I'd think he was about to pull a gun on me. Didn't even dawn on me that he might be as fucking hostile as Logan.

I back up a few steps, shielding Miri and Naja, and chastise myself for not bringing my goddamn weapon. Not a word comes out of his mouth, though, as he keeps walking and passes us. We turn, and he eventually stops at the door and inclines his hand like we're supposed to leave.

I stand my ground, sure as shit ready to have a showdown if need be. "I mean it, Samuel."

"I'm sure you do. Come. Please."

Frowning at the pleasantness in his tone, I walk on and guide the girls towards him and out the door. We cross a small courtyard area after he's locked the place up, turning along some paths soon after, and eventually find ourselves outside a small cottage on the grounds. He opens it up and walks inside, almost dismissing us but for the open doorway.

"What help do you need?" he asks as he moves for the small stove. I hold my arm across Miri as she tries to enter and look around the space from outside. Humble and shabby furniture fill the small room and corners, and a battered, old rug lies on the tile floor under a coffee table. Doesn't look to me like the type of place a guy that's fucking Logan Cane would live in, but what would I know, I guess. "You can come in, Mr Cortez. At least have some manners in that regard." I look at him as he fills a coffee maker and watch him look back at me and smirk a little. "He isn't here if that's what you're looking for."

I nod and usher the girls inside, following them and breathing a small sigh of relief at the information. Both Miri and Naja sit on the couch as I rest my back on the door and keep watching him move. He chuckles about something quietly at one point, making me feel fucking small for some reason. Considering I'm not, compared to him, and I'm damn tired of being made to feel that way, my back starts getting real damn prickly.

"Well?" he says as he puts a tray of coffee down on the table. "I assume if it's enough for you to mention threatening me, it's relatively serious."

"These girls need to get back to London."

He pours the coffee for Miri and Naja and smiles at them. "And I presume you'd like Logan to make that happen." I nod as he looks at me. "Perhaps you should ask him. I hear your family is working alongside him now." I frown and look at Miri as she sips coffee and tries to stop Naja opening her mouth. Doesn't work.

"We just need to get home," Naja says, facing Samuel. "I don't know why he's brought us to you, but I need to get Miri back to London, and we need passports. Maybe Landon can do that, or maybe we need Logan, but either way, we've both been through hell, and now we're here, and we want him…" she shifts and points at me. "…gone." Miri looks up at me for a second or two, a loose kinda smile settling like she's not completely on board with her sister's sentiment. Feels more like ten minutes in my head. I'm just staring, maybe beginning to understand why she was the right girl at the right time in the right place. Pretty as hell.

My arms fold at the thought, and I look back at Samuel for clarification on what he's gonna do about this situation.

"Landon Broderick? How do you know him?" he asks.

"I was living with him," Miri says. "And Willow. After the last time Cortez took us."

"Took you?"

"Yes. Took us from the streets to sell as some fucking object to make money," Naja spits. "And then, after I'd got her safe, she"s here with this asshole again and…" She blinks and pulls her mood back in, trying to calm down. "I'm sorry. I'm just … Please. We can't be here anymore and …" Tears form in her eyes, and within seconds, they're streaming down her face, and it's Miri who's trying to hold her together by taking her hand.

I look back at Samuel, chin still high, regardless of what's been said. He glares under his calm demeanour, like all that just pissed him off past sense. "Yeah, I get it. Let's not, though, shall we? Killing a priest isn't on my remit today, and I'm tryin' to do the right thing. Can't, though, not without your help. Logan's not gonna listen unless it comes from you."

He offers a box of tissues to Naja and sits himself down on the opposite chair. "You'd like me to make him do as you want him to?"

"Yeah."

"Logan rarely listens to my influence."

"I doubt that's true. Especially with you fucking him and the world not knowing about that." Both Miri and Naja look at me in shock, then flick their stare at him. "I'm guessing he'll do just about anything to make sure you don't get caught in that headline shitstorm. Wonder what his kids would make of it. And, I guess. This whole situation would be screwed for you. Priests don't fuck criminals in their recreational time."

His face barely changed through all of that. He just stayed steady and composed, like the words landed but didn't cause the reaction I was after. He does lean back, though, and sips his coffee, never once taking his eyes off me. "Threatening Logan with my ruination won't work, Mr Cortez. I told him I'd be ready one day. I'm not far from it. And he won't mind the headlines. Neither will his wife if anyone dares publish." Well, shit. That's not what I was hoping for. I frown and look around the place, unsure what the hell to do now. Beg? "Am I to assume you've gone against your family's wishes by bringing these young ladies here?" I look back at him.

"I guess." He laughs at that, chuckles quietly even, like he did earlier.

"You've grown a conscience then."

"Somewhere near it."

He looks at the girls again, especially Miri. "Quite a tangled web you're in." He pulls in a breath and keeps staring, sipping more coffee like he's thinking. "The pretty ones always do get us in trouble, don't they, Mr Cortez?" Yeah. This one did, at least.

Standing, he goes to his coffee maker. Another cup's poured; this time offered to me before he turns back to the girls again. "You both look like you could use a hot bath and some fresh clothes."

Naja smiles at him. Frankly, it's about the first time she has that I can tell. "That would be lovely, but will you help us?"

"Bathe," he says sternly, pointing to the stairs. "I'll have to see if there's an element of integrity to play with tonight. He isn't known for it, and hostile behaviour won't get us anywhere with this dilemma. Begging works, occasionally."

I sneer and open the door as Naja nods and heads upstairs. I'm about ready for some fresh air out of this sanctimonious shit. I'm only four feet into the courtyard when a hand touches my shoulder. I spin on it, jumpy as hell in the dark.

"Mr Cortez, you should calm down. I'm not the enemy."

"Yeah? Everyone feels like the damn enemy lately." His eyes crinkle, amused at that no doubt.

"You're the youngest, aren't you?"

"You know us?"

"I make it my business to understand Logan's business – to help him. You were supposed to be coming to New York to help him, weren't you? Tell me why you'd risk his wrath and your family's by helping these ladies instead."

"What does that matter? What I think or believe means shit to their chances. You gonna help or not?" He smiles and stares at me, sending those serene-as-hell blues straight at me. For once in my life I know what my own eyes feel like when they're directed with intent.

"Because sometimes talking it out makes it easier to understand, Shaw. You seem lost. Lonely. I know someone else who was like that before I met him. We could walk if that would help?"

My arms fold as I look around the grounds. "I don't need to talk. I just need you to get them to Logan, or Landon, or whoever the hell can get them where they should be instead of the life we were aiming them at."

"But why?"

"Because." Because what? I give a damn about her? Because everything inside me wants to get this one saved for some reason? Because, annoying as it is, all of the above is right on point, and I'm a dick for even thinking about it? I rub my eyes, tired as hell and still damn confused about everything I'm doing. "Just is, Samuel, alright? Just needs doing. Do whatever you need to to get them home. You won't like what happens if you don't."

"Another threat?" He laughs lightly again and shakes his head. "He was like that at your age, too. You should choose a better route with me."

"What do you want? Some begging?"

"No. I want admission of guilt, or love, or, at the very least, care. I'm a priest first, Shaw. People talk to us. So talk."