Shooting Star (8 page)

Warning Priest off would only make it a challenge for his old friend, so Jessup kept his mouth shut.

“What about the shooter? You want me to look for him?” Priest asked.

“No.
Brac’s
my primary concern right now. Keeping him safe means everything. If the shooter discovers where he’s being housed, I’ve no doubt he’ll try again. I’m counting on you to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Priest stood, dislodging Jessup’s hand and scratched the top of his bald head. Jessup stared at the lone dark finger that refused to bend. Priest had broken the finger in a remote area of Laos during one of his missions and had refused to abandon the job long enough to seek medical attention. At the time Priest’s only reply had been to thank God it hadn’t been his trigger finger.

Jessup waited for Priest’s answer. He had no idea what his friend had been working on before he’d received the call, so the fact that he had come said volumes for his unspoken feelings for Jessup.

Priest sighed. “Give the guy a call. Tell him what to expect so I don’t scare the shit out of him when I show up.”

“I will.”

After a nod, Priest started for the door. Before he made it out of the room, he turned back to Jessup. “Think he’d be willing to give me some inside information on that show he’s on?”

“Was on.
He just found out his contract won’t be renewed. Honestly, no, I wouldn’t bring it up.”

“You’re fucking kidding me. He was the best thing on that show,” Priest said before throwing the heavy door open with ease and disappearing into the hall.

It wasn’t until the door shut that Jessup realised Priest’s mistake. Jessup hadn’t mentioned
Brac’s
full name, so how did Priest know so much about him?

* * * *

Brac
punched the hospital phone number into his new cell phone and prayed Jessup wasn’t resting. The phone rang four times before Jessup finally picked up.

“Hello?”

“It’s me. I didn’t wake you, did I?”
Brac
asked.

“No. I’ve been trying to call you. Where’ve you been?”

For some reason the irritation in Jessup’s voice warmed
Brac’s
heart. “Your phone ran out of juice and since I didn’t have the charger, I just had Rio pick me up a new cell when he went to Sheridan. If you have a paper and pen, I can give you the new number.”

“Hang on.”

Brac
heard noise in the background as Jessup obviously searched for something to write on. An expletive sounded before Jessup got back on the phone. “I can’t reach a pen right now.”

“Well don’t hurt yourself. I’ll call you back around dinner time. Have one of the nurses get you a pen before then.”
Brac
wandered out of the living room. He liked Rio and Ryan, but was tired of them shadowing him everywhere. “When’re you getting out?”

“Three more days.”
Jessup cleared his throat. “I tried calling earlier…”

“I know, but like I told you, your phone is dead,”
Brac
said, cutting Jessup off.

“Well, what I wanted to tell you was that Priest’s on his way to the cabin.”

“Priest?”
Fuck.
Brac
wasn’t ready to meet the only man Jessup ever spoke of. “Why? I haven’t seen anyone skulking around. Even Rio and Ryan are starting to look bored out of their minds. I don’t think it’s necessary to bring someone like Priest in.”

“Because I trust him to keep you safe.
And don’t kid yourself. Rio and Ryan used to do the same thing Priest does. The only difference is Priest still hasn’t retired.”

Brac
glanced towards the living room. It was hard to imagine Rio and Ryan as mercenaries.
“You sure?”

“I’m sure. Anyway,
Priest’ll
be there any second. He wanted me to warn you before he showed up.”

“Why? You mean so Ryan doesn’t shoot him?”

“That and because he’s kind of…intimidating when you first see him. There are different types of mercenaries for different jobs. Most of us are blenders because we can ease our way into a situation without attracting attention, but Priest is known as an enforcer. He’s the guy you bring in when you want your opponent to know you’re serious.”

“You’ve lost me. Is he scary-looking or something?”

Ryan appeared in the doorway. “There’s a black Range Rover coming down the road.”

“He’s here,”
Brac
said into the phone.

“Who’s here?” Ryan asked.

“Give the phone to Ryan,” Jessup instructed.

“But we haven’t finished talking.”
Brac
wanted to know what was so scary about Priest before he came face to face with the man.

“You’ll find out soon enough, but I really need to tell Ryan who’s about to walk into the house. Getting my best friend shot isn’t the plan. We’ll talk again later.”

Brac
handed Ryan the phone just as a loud knock seemed to vibrate the entire cabin. “I’ll get it. It’s Jessup’s friend.”

Ryan grabbed
Brac’s
arm, keeping him in place. “You’re not going anywhere until I find out what the fuck’s going on.”

Brac
waited while Jessup explained the situation to Ryan.

“Priest?
As in
the
Priest?”
Ryan glanced over his shoulder.
“Yeah.”
He nodded his head. “Okay, no I’ve never met him, but he’s about to break the door down.” Ryan headed out of the room.

Brac
quickly followed, feeling better. At least it seemed Ryan knew of Priest. That had to be a good sign.

“Stay back there,” Ryan ordered before returning to his conversation with Jessup.
“All right.
Talk to you later.” Ryan tossed the phone to
Brac
. “Brace yourself.”

Brac’s
jaw dropped when Ryan opened the door. Priest was so big and tall that only the lower half of his face was visible beyond the doorframe. He automatically took a step back when Priest ducked and walked into the cabin.
Holy shit.

Ryan tilted his head back and held up his arm. Instead of shaking Priest’s hand, he appeared to show Priest a particular tattoo inked onto his inner forearm. “Ryan
Blackfeather
. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Priest flashed his own inner arm before replying, “Any trouble?”

“Nothing,” Ryan said with a shake of his head. He turned and gestured to
Brac
. “Let me introduce you.
Brac
, this is Priest, the one man you’d never want to cross.”

“No shit,”
Brac
mumbled to himself. Priest had to be all of seven foot. With the rest of his body built like a professional wrestler, Priest was the most intimidating man he’d ever met.

Priest crossed the room to stand in front of
Brac
. “So you’re
Brac
.”

Brac
could only nod. He’d never considered his six-foot-one frame small, but damn, he felt like a toddler next to Priest. “Yes, sir,” he answered automatically.

Priest tossed his head back and laughed. The sound echoed through the cabin, sending chills through
Brac
. How the hell was he supposed to spend the next three days with a man who fucking terrified him?

“You’re the first person to call me that. Well, the first person I wasn’t holding a gun on, that is.” Priest held out his hand.

Brac
stared at the oversized hand and immediately thought of Sasquatch. He tried to remember his manners. Jessup had asked for Priest’s help and it wouldn’t be right to offend the man.

“I don’t bite.”

When
Brac
finally put his palm against Priest’s in a welcoming greeting, Priest leant down and winked.
“Unless you’re into that
kinda
thing.”

Brac
released Priest’s hand. “Can I get you a beer or something?”

Priest grinned, obviously picking up on
Brac’s
unease. “Don’t suppose you have any Earl Grey?”

“
Ummm
, yeah, I think so.”
Brac
made a break for the kitchen, hoping Priest wouldn’t follow. As he pulled the box of tea packets out of the pantry, he heard that loud laugh again.
Brac
doubted he’d ever get used to the sound. He set the box on the counter and filled a pan with water.

“Ryan said to tell you he’d check in with you later,” Priest said, coming into the room.

“Thanks.”
Brac
gestured to the stove. “Sorry, I don’t think Ezra has a tea pot.”

Priest strode to the back window and moved the curtain aside.
“Hot water’s hot water.
As long as the tea’s Earl Grey, it’s all good.”

After turning the burner on,
Brac
grabbed a beer out of the fridge before taking a seat at the kitchen table. With Priest’s broad back to him,
Brac
got his first good look at the tattoo running from the base of Priest’s skull to disappear under the collar of his white dress shirt.
Never.
Turn.
“What’s the rest of the tattoo say?” he asked without thinking.

Without turning around, Priest unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall off his shoulders but not off.
Your.
Back.
“Wow.” Talk about paranoid. After reading the tattoo,
Brac
briefly focussed his attention on the newly exposed bulging muscles. He wondered if Priest’s body was really as sculpted as it appeared or if the dark colouring of his skin just showed them off more.

Priest pulled his shirt back up and re-buttoned it before turning around.

“So why turn your back to me?”
Brac
asked, taking a sip of his beer.

“Because you don’t pose a threat to me.”
Priest walked over and pulled a chair out. Although the chairs were substantial, Priest chuckled and shook his head as he gingerly sat down. “I always feel like I’m living life in a little girl’s playhouse,” he commented.

“I’d imagine so. Do you have to have furniture custom made?”

Priest crossed his arms over his chest, drawing attention to how well-tailored his clothes were. “I don’t own a house, so there’s no need to have anything made. I’ve learned to adapt to my surroundings.”

“So where do you go when you’re not working?”
Brac
had thought it odd that Jessup rented an apartment instead of owning a home, but Priest didn’t even have that.

“I’m always working,” Priest muttered.

When the water on the stove started to boil,
Brac
stood. “I’ll get you that tea.”

“Two bags if you have them.”

“Yeah, but we’ll have to call out for more.”
Brac
reached into the cupboard and started to remove one of the tea cups Ezra had on hand. After a second thought, he pulled down one of the much larger coffee mugs.
“This okay?”

“That’d be great, thanks.”

Brac
poured the water and retrieved the entire stack of Earl Grey from the compartmentalised wooden box. He set everything on the table in front of Priest. “Wasn’t sure if you needed more than two,” he offered, resuming his seat.

Priest unwrapped three of the tea bags and dropped them into the water. “So, Jessup told me you won’t be on
Pirates’ Cove
anymore. What’s up with that?”

“You watch
Pirates’ Cove
?”
Brac
was surprised that someone in Priest’s line of work would be interested in a daytime soap opera.

“Sure. You do a lot of sitting around waiting when you’re a mercenary.” Priest added two teaspoons of sugar from the centre of the table. “So you didn’t answer my question.”

Randal’s betrayal still hurt and it wasn’t something
Brac
liked to dwell on or talk about. He shrugged like it was no big deal. “My ex wanted me gone so he could bring his new boy toy in, so I believe he paid one of the extras to file a false harassment claim against me.”

Priest sneered. “I knew there was a reason I never liked that fucker. I don’t know him personally, but he’s always come off like a jerk on the show.”

“He wasn’t always like that, but, yeah, that’s a pretty good assessment of who he’s become. It seemed the more popular the show became, the more outrageous his demands.”
Brac
didn’t mention Randal’s affair with the producer or his recreational drug use, although the last couple of times
Brac
had seen him out he’d wondered just how recreational the drugs had become.
And why the fuck am I defending that asshole?

“So what’s next for you?” Priest asked.

Brac
finished his beer and tossed the can into the trash.

“Aren’t you going to recycle that?” Priest asked with a horrified expression.

With a sigh,
Brac
dug in the trash until he came back out with the can. “Sorry.” At home recycling was second nature, but he’d had more important things on his mind since arriving in Wyoming. He rinsed the can and set it beside the sink.

“I was offered a spot on
The Jackals
, but I decided against doing another hour-long series.” He found a plastic grocery sack and dropped the can inside before pulling another beer out of the refrigerator.

“So what do you want to do?” Priest asked.

“No fucking clue. I told my agent to put feelers out for guest spots and movie roles. I think if I could do a couple of those a year, I’d have more than enough to live on and only end up working a couple of months total.”

Priest took a sip of his tea. “Why the sudden change in direction?”

Brac
wasn’t about to tell Priest of his hopes for the future.
“Just time for a change.
I like it here. The town’s friendly when someone’s not shooting the people I care about,” he added.

“You care about Jessup?” Priest asked, staring at
Brac
.

Squaring his shoulders,
Brac
nodded. “I’d like to care about him a lot more if he’d let me, but I have a feeling you’d know something about that.”