Page 42 of The Love of Priest 2

Chapter Ten

The tumbler of the locks sounded off as Britain sat in the center of her living room.

Her attention strayed from the multitude of boxes that barricaded her, and she eyed Priest as he entered the apartment.

She let out a sigh at seeing he had shown up even though he knew it would’ve been in his best interest to rest up and stay out of the public eye.

"Priest." She shot him a stale face as he sauntered around the boxes to take a spot next to her.

"I'm good,Gioia," he assured her as he braced his body to sit down.

As expected, Priest's healing process had been a lot harder than it would have been if he had been treated at the hospital. His body had endured an extreme level of pain and was forced to tolerate it, so the healing process was slower.

Britain shook her head as she angled herself so she could continue eyeing him. "You're not fine," she muttered with a shake of her head. "You just got shot two days ago,” she reminded him before resuming her task of placing one of her framed photos into the cardboard box.

Britain believed Priest was pushing his body harder than he should’ve been. Here he was driving himself around and leaving the house when his stitches still had a high chance of tearing open or becoming infected. She just didn't want him enduring such a horrendous amount of pain again.

Life was stressful now that the entire city of New York believed Priest was dead. His refusal to clear up his alleged death troubled Britain. Priest had now committed himself to living in complete secrecy under the radar.

He reached down, clutching the hem of his white tee and lifting it for Britain to see his wounds.

Britain could feel her stomach tighten at the sight of the two stitched up injuries.

He strained to swiftly lift his arm, causing him to slightly wince in pain.

Even though he had plans of demonstrating that he was on the right track to healing, the lingering pain prevented him from doing so.

Britain pursed her lips as her orbs seared into him with an I told you so look webbed in her eyes. Rising from her seated position on the floor, she aided him in putting his arm down. "Priest, you're pushing yourself too much," she fussed and shook her head with a sigh.

He ran a hand down his face. "I just need everything to go smoothly for Italy.”

"Which it will, especially if you are recovering properly.”

Priest nodded, taking note of her advice. "C'mere," he called her over to his lap.

Britain shot him a teasing side-eye before maneuvering herself to straddle his lap.

She gently rested her hands on his shoulders, and her attention immediately landed on the ring that was perched on her left ring finger.

He grasped her hand, bringing it up to his lips.

A light laugh escaped Britain as he examined the ring on her finger.

"You like it?" He raised a brow at her.

Britain's smile widened as she nodded her head. "Yeah, I do. It's a lot less conservative than what I thought my engagement ring would be, but I love it. You did great, P." She craned down, applying her plump lips to his.

"‘Preciate it,Gioia." He suavely smirked at her before pecking her lips once more.

With all the chaos going on, they hadn't gotten much of a chance to talk to each other.

To distract her from the trauma she would soon have to confront, she had plunged into the overwhelming task of packing up her apartment for their move to Italy.

Priest, on the other hand, was busy handling the logistics of this across the world move.

He had a lot on his plate, especially with the added pressure to remain under the radar with the public believing he was dead.

Having Priest close to her at the moment gave her a sense of relief.

She had been battling the pessimistic thoughts of almost losing him a few days ago.

The media had been setting the streets ablaze with his death, and it was preventing her from coping how she wanted to.

Every television channel she surfed was airing the details of Priest's alleged death, and the internet was just the same.

Britain had tons of questions about how Priest was planning to pull this off, yet she refrained from asking them.

He seemed to be flustered by everything that was going on, so she didn't want to stress him out more with her concerns.

His fingertips traced the outline of the deep plunging dimples on the small of her back.

Her shoulders were alleviated of all the tension she had been carrying around for the past few days.

An amused chuckled drifted from Priest as she gently rested her head on his shoulder.

He turned his head a bit, sitting a light kiss on her cheek.

"You wanna talk about it?" he throated out, already knowing something was bothering her.

She simply shook her head in response. Moving to Italy was one of the biggest risks she had ever taken in her life.

She was afraid that if she and Priest talked about it, it would just turn into her opening a can of worms for their relationship.

Britain felt like Italy was just something she had to do without over-calculating it and questioning herself.

If she psyched herself out, she was sure she would stay in New York.

"Okay. Let's talk about something else," he suggested.

"Our wedding," Britain murmured, hoping she could steer him away from the tense and cold conversations he wanted to have.

Priest let out another amused chuckle as he shook his head. "No, Brit. I feel like we need to address the elephant in the room," he told her with a bit more seriousness.

Whenever anything harsh or traumatic happened to Britain, her mind immediately transitioned into fight or flight.

The majority of the time, she suited herself up for flight and completely stored the tragic events far in the back of her mind.

She was the queen of what she called hovering , but now that Priest was involved, he didn't feel right allowing her to do that.

"An elephant wouldn't be able to fit in this small-ass apartment," she laughed, completely disregarding Priest's seriousness.

Priest sighed as he lifted her head from his shoulders.

His dark orbs seared into her soft brown eyes.

He could sense the sadness she was trying to mask with a smile.

She had the same look in her eye when she arrived at the trial when Priest expected her not to.

"Let's be serious for a minute," Priest requested.

A deep sigh drifted out of Britain as her shoulders slouched.

She wasn't sure how she could tell him that the deeper the conversation got, the more she would be consumed by fear and turn away from the idea of moving to Italy.

If he wanted things to go as planned, it was really in his best interest to just allow her to hover.

"Priest, I don't think this is the time to talk about it," she attempted to dismiss the much-needed conversation. "I still have to pack, and you need to figure out how we're getting to the ramp without you being spotted."

"All that stuff can wait. I need to be sure you're okay and we're on the same page," he said.

"P, we're fine," Britain asserted with a light smile on her face.

Priest shot her an unconvinced look as he shook his head. "Don't lie to me, Brit. We don't do that to each other."

Figuring that Priest would just continue to pressure her for a conversation, Britain brushed his strong hands from around her waist and rose from his lap. She stood up, returning to the stacks of boxes she still needed to pack and label.

He leaned up from the couch, resting his elbows on his knees, eyeing her as she picked up one of the framed photos she had collected from all the walls of the apartment.

The photo happened to be of the both of them during a helicopter ride over the city.

In the picture, they were both wearing the massive headphones given to them when boarding the helicopter.

Britain rested her head on his shoulder as she snapped a photo of them, all smiles.

There was no doubt that Priest was the one she loved and was destined to be with.

He brought her so much happiness without the toxicity she was used to from her past dealings.

He built her up to her highest power and never made her feel any less.

She didn't want to let a move to Italy take that feeling of the utmost love and happiness away from her, but she was terrified of what their new life may come with.

Britain let out a light sigh before wrapping the picture in bubble wrap and sitting it in the opened box.

She ignored Priest's dark and hollow eyes as they seared into her and continued her process of packing the pictures.

Whenever she got to a picture of her and Priest, she would just stop and stare at it, reminiscing on the moment the photo was captured.

"Awe, remember this?" she asked as she handed the picture over to him.

A smile graced Priest's face as he gazed at the picture.

"That was the night we said I love you to each other," he recalled.

Priest felt a calmness wash over him. In the picture, his tall stature stood behind her.

He had his lips pressed against her cheek as she showcased her full smile.

They were both walking on Cloud 9 after they professed their love for each other.

That night, they went back to Britain's apartment and tore each other's clothes off.

Looking back only made them laugh at how much they had each other head over heels.

"That was a wild night," Britain joked, causing Priest to agree.

He stood up from the couch to assist her with wrapping the photos in bubble wrap and placing them in the nearby boxes. "P, I have this handled. Just go rest or something," she assured him, not wanting him to strain his injuries by helping her pack.