Page 37 of The Love of Priest 2

Chapter Nine

A roaring shout of agony sounded from Priest as J'Ru and Kaymen sat him on the floor. His dark eyes were dilated as he kept his sight fixed on the crown molding of Remy's ceiling. He needed to be distracted. It was mind over matter. He had control of his pain, not the other way around.

His view of the ceiling was compromised by Seven. She stared down at him, assessing the damage the bullet wound had caused to his flesh. She noticed the hazy look in his eye as his lids began to struggle to stay open.

"Hey!" She tapped his face to catch his attention."You stayed up for that entire car ride. You don't get to shut your eyes now," she sternly gritted. "Do you hear me?"

Priest slowly nodded his head. "Priest, do you hear me?!" she ordered him again. His blood was low, but in order for her to know that he wasn't on the brink of death, she needed him alert and attentive.

"Yes," Priest croaked out.

Priest could feel his blood begin to soak into the pallet of blankets he laid on top of.

He was trying his best to follow Seven's orders, all while training himself with the mind over matter strategy.

He had never been shot before. There was definitely a first time for everything, but at this moment, he felt like this shit could have waited.

"He's gonna be okay, right?" he could hear Britain's voice ask in the distance.

"Britain, just give me a minute," Seven breathed out heavily in an overwhelmed manner.

"Alright, Priest. I'm about to unwrap your wounds.

The shifting is going to hurt… a lot. I need you to take in a deep breath," Seven instructed before she untied the necktie Britain had tightened around the entry and exit wound while in the car.

"Okay," Priest responded to her through clenched teeth.

Seven kindly braced him before she quickly untied the necktie. His screams rattled the ears of everyone in the room. Britain immediately turned away, unable to face him as he went through so much pain. "Priest, maybe we should go to the hospital," Seven suggested as she leaned over him.

Coming down from his belting shouts, Priest clenched his jaws as he shook his head. "Keep going," he gritted.

J'Ru ran his hand down his face in distress.

Priest was adamant about not going to the hospital for treatment.

Seven was enough for him, but everyone else felt as though that wasn't the best idea.

He was in pain and was losing blood by the second.

Seven couldn't possibly be strong enough to put him through all that gut-wrenching pain without any assistance of anesthesia.

"Yo, PJ, stop this shit. We're going to the hospital.

" J'Ru shook his head, disregarding Priest's wishes.

Seven retracted her hands from Priest, figuring that J'Ru's call was best. Priest mustered up the strength to grab Seven's hand, clenching it in his grip. "I'll die on the fucking way there!" Priest coldly seethed between heaving breaths.

Seven gazed down at Priest. His demands were a bit unreasonable, but she understood. She worked in life-or-death situations all the time; this one should’ve been no different. "Don't fucking die on me. You hear me?" Seven ordered Priest as she slid a pair of gloves onto her hands.

J'Ru couldn't believe everyone was actually considering Priest's wants right now.

He believed Priest was signing his own death certificate by refusing to go to the hospital.

Fuming in frustration, J'Ru stormed out of the entryway of Jeremy's house, heading toward the kitchen.

If Priest wanted to facilitate his own death, he wasn't about to stand around and witness it.

"We have to sit him up," Seven stated, causing a look of worry to flash in Kaymen, Remy and Britain’s eyes.

Kaymen inhaled a deep breath before nodding his head.

He slid out of his suit jacket so he wouldn't be restrained while aiding Jeremy with sitting Priest up.

Jeremy and Kaymen anchored their arms around Priest's body, which was beginning to feel like deadweight.

They sat him up, ignoring Priest's ear rattling wails of torture.

Seven quickly stepped in, clogging the wounds with as much gauze as she had on-hand.

The wire fibers were quickly soiled in crimson red blood.

The elevation of Priest's upper body slowed the flow of the blood.

She let out a sigh of relief as both wounds refrained from spilling anymore blood after she packed them with gauze.

"We stopped the bleeding," Seven announced with deep relief.

Britain glanced down at Priest. She knew Seven being able to stop the bleeding would never make up for the amount of blood he lost on the way over.

Pulling her eyes from Priest, Britain’s orbs slowly trailed down to herself.

The pastel-colored pant suit she steamed the wrinkles out of prior to leaving her apartment this morning was stained with Priest's cold blood that was now starting to dry and brown.

She inhaled a shaky breath as she shut her eyes momentarily.

She was trying her best to keep herself calm.

She was petrified and definitely traumatized; however, she couldn't deal with those feelings right now.

She needed to continue to be brave for Priest's sake.

"Priest," Seven called for his attention. "You still with me?"

Priest nodded his head. He was exhausted from the combination of his high blood loss, excruciating pain, and the extra efforts to keep himself awake. No one was sure exactly how he was managing to push himself through this. "Yes," he throated out through his labored breathing.

"What's next?" Britain asked as she crouched down to be next to Priest. Her fear wasn't about to prevent her from being there for him. He needed as much support as he could get right now.

Seven shifted her attention from the penetration wounds in Priest’s flesh to Britain. "I'm about to close the wounds," she advised her daughter. "And I can't have you in here while I do so." Seven was about to drag a needle through Priest's skin without any anesthetics.

The thought of it was horrendous, but she knew she and everyone else who remained in the room could stomach it.

Britain, on the other hand, couldn't. Priest was about to be in a great deal more pain than what he was already in.

All the barriers they'd gone through to get him to Seven were hard and challenging, but the stitching process trumped all of that.

Britain screwed up her face in disagreement. "I'm not leaving him," she refused with a shake of her head.

"Britain, no one is asking you to leave him," Remy spoke up, correcting his daughter. "She just can't afford to be distracted."

Her eyes diverted from her father to her mother in disbelief. Britain had just endured a stomach-wrenching car ride with Priest, where she had to use the palms of her hands to suppress his bleeding. Her parents thinking she couldn't handle what was coming next was offensive to her.

"Gioia,go," Priest winced out before heaving a strained breath.

Britain fought against her urge to protest everyone else's wishes.

She angrily stormed out of the room, proceeding to the kitchen where J'Ru was working to contain himself.

He was seated at the table with his head in his hands.

Britain could tell J'Ru was fuming in anger, and she couldn't blame him.

It was hard for her to stomach Priest's decision to not go to the hospital as well, but he was adamant, so she knew he must've had a reason behind it.

She shuffled over to the sink. Her eyes trailed down to her hands.

The dried blood that stained her palms began to crack within the crevices of her skin.

She needed to clean herself up. Now that her attention was no longer on Priest, the severity of the situation began to set in.

To everyone else, things may have seemed to happen so quickly, but for Britain, everything was moving in slow motion.

The thought of it caused a thick clot of air to lodge in her throat.

She felt like she would suffocate upon realizing that she was also on the brink of death.

It was almost as if someone had shoved her into a casket while she was still alive and buried her six feet under.

Britain turned the water on, holding her hands underneath the faucet.

She watched as the dried blood quickly loosened from the palms of her hands and began to travel down the drain.

She scrubbed her hands together roughly, attempting to get each and every speck of Priest's blood off her.

She dug underneath each of her fingernails, raking out the cakes of blood that had accumulated underneath them as well.

Pulling her hands from underneath the faucet, she examined them.

They were thoroughly cleaned with soap and water, but she still felt as if they were soaked in blood.

She returned her hands to the water four times.

J'Ru assessed her behavior as he sat the table.

She was shaken up and was finally coming to terms with everything.

With a light sigh, he rose from his seat and made his way over to the sink where she was now washing her hands for the fifth time.

He reached over her, turning the water off.

She halted the scrubbing of her hands, staring down at them aimlessly.

The skin on her hands had grown pale from the back-to-back scrubbing and lathering of the hand soap.

To J'Ru, Britain's hands were as clean as they could possibly get; however, to her, they were still tainted with Priest's blood.

"C'mon," J'Ru said to Britain in a light voice as he rested his hands on her shoulders. "This happens. You're stuck reliving it for a while. Then, eventually, it becomes the past," he advised Britain as he pulled a few sheets of paper towels off the roll so she could dry her soaked hands.