Page 72 of Priest

But soon.

Sadie is halfway down the hall when I stop her. “Sadie.”

She pauses, then turns slowly, like she’s expecting a question. Maybe even forgiveness.

She doesn’t get either.

The hallway is quiet, the clubhouse settling into its late-night rhythm around us. Doors are closed. Engines are cooling. The place hums like it thinks the danger has passed. I step closer, not crowding her and not touching her, just close enough that she understands this isn’t a conversation she can walk away from.

“You got a minute,” I say.

It isn’t a question.

Her mouth curves into something cautious. “Of course.”

I wait until we’re out of earshot, until the walls feel closer and the space feels smaller. Then I look at her the way I used to look at men right before they realized they’d miscalculated.

“I know what you did.”

The smile flickers. Just for a second, but it’s there.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she starts.

“Don’t,” I cut in, voice calm and flat. “This isn’t that kind of conversation.”

She stills.

“You set it up,” I continue. “The timing. The place. The words. You made damn sure Blue heard exactly what you wanted her to hear.”

Her jaw tightens. She doesn’t deny it this time.

“That wasn’t clumsy,” I say. “That wasn’t emotional. That was deliberate.”

Silence stretches between us, heavy and charged.

“I let a lot slide where you’re concerned,” I go on. “You know why.”

Her eyes lift to mine, and there it is. The shield she hides behind. Cain. The name sits between us like a ghost.

“Your father kept me alive when I was a kid who didn’t know how,” I say. “He stood between me and things that would’ve broken most men. I don’t forget debts like that.”

Her shoulders ease, just a fraction.

I lean in then. Not threatening. Worse than that. Controlled.

“But that loyalty isn’t bottomless,” I say quietly. “And it doesn’t cover everything.”

Her breath catches.

“You do not get to meddle in my business,” I continue. “You do not get to touch my relationship. You sure as hell do not get to manipulate the woman carrying my child.”

Her eyes widen at that. Just enough.

“It won’t matter that you were Ace’s Old Lady,” I say. “It won’t matter that you’re Cain’s daughter. If you pull something like that again, if you try to play games inside my walls, you’ll be done.”

The words aren’t loud. They don’t need to be.

I straighten and step back, giving her space again because the warning has already done what it came to do.