Page 75 of The Love of Priest 2
brOOKLYN, NEW YORK
Britain drummed her acrylic nails against her thigh. Her nerves had overtaken her, and yet again, she found herself losing all the courage she once had. Glancing down at her hands, she attempted to stop fidgeting. Her face screwed up in distaste at the feeling of her palms being clammy and moist.
"Get it together, Britain," she murmured to herself as she rubbed her palms against the denim material of her jeans.
Glancing out the dark tinted window, she was faced with the sight of her mother and stepfather’s brownstone. She knew she had drifted a long distance from Harlem, where she initially thought she would be staying with Remy after arriving at an empty and silent penthouse in TriBeCa.
Britain had tried to head over to Remy's place.
What she didn't know was that the biggest challenge she would have to face would be stepping inside the home and rehashing one of the biggest traumas she had experienced.
The last time she was over at her father's home, she had witnessed and endured a lot.
The majority of what she had endured was gruesome.
She had watched so much of Priest's blood spill out of him while her mother desperately tried keeping him alive with a cheap suture kit and different household items. Despite knowing Priest was alive and well in Italy, the thought of him being so close to death wasn't something she could face at the moment.
It also didn't help that the entire city was under the impression that her fiancé was dead, and she didn't show up for the services tolay him to rest .
There was a lot going on, and Britain found herself running to the closest set of people who were not involved in the chaotic life she chose to live with Priest: her parents .
Although Seven was the one who brought Priest back to good health after he had gotten shot, Britain knew her mother didn't know all the ins and outs of his lifestyle. In Britain’s head, her logic made tons of sense when she was fleeing from the very home that Priest almost died in.
But now, sitting parked at the curb in front of her mother and father's brownstone, all she could think about was all the reasons why she planned on avoiding her mother while she was in the jet from Italy.
At this point, she felt like she was out of options, and she was beginning to feel like traveling back to The States because of the issues she was having with Priest wasn't the best idea.
As she continued to dwell on her thoughts and nerves, she heard a knock on the window.
Her eyes widened a bit as the front window rolled down.
"Is there a reason you been parked outside of my house for the past half hour now?" Britain could hear her stepfather confront Cyro while she sat in the back seat.
Knowing Cyro wasn't much of a talker, Britain quickly mustered her courage back up and lowered her window. "Pops, it's me," she called for his attention from the back seat of the darkly wrapped and tinted SUV.
Henderson turned his head in the direction of her voice, surprised to see it was actually his daughter who was in the vehicle instead of someone he had to worry about.
"Mocha? What are you doing here?" He made his way over to her with a bit of shock plastering his face.
He was dressed in his set of cool grey scrubs which indicated that he had either just come in from a surgery or was preparing to leave for one.
"I came to visit," Britain enlightened him. "I got a little homesick," she admitted as she pursed her lips.
A light smile stretched across Henderson's face as he pulled on the door handle.
Britain was pleased to see the excitement that surged within him from her presence.
This was highly expected from Henderson, though.
He coddled Britain from the very first day he met her, whether it was him dismissing each and every consequence that was warranted by her behavior growing up or just being the supportive dad he'd always been when she decided to move across the world to Italy.
Britain was his princess, and no matter the situation, he was just glad to have her in town.
"Why didn't you let me know? I would've picked you up from the airport and had something ready for you to eat," he questioned her as he furrowed his thick brows together.
Britain chuckled lightly. "It's fine, Pops. I wanted it to be a surprise. Is Ma home?” She eyed her father as he slid his hands into the pockets of his scrubs.
He pursed his lips as he glanced away from her briefly.
"She's inside," he nodded his head, finally serving her with a response.
"She actually lost a patient today, so maybe you being back would put her in better spirits?
" He raised his brow, more so suggesting that she head inside to take Seven's mind off the patient she lost.
Britain bit down on her bottom lip in deep thought.
Seeing her mother after she had just lost a patient was like trekking through risky water.
There were a lot of unsaid things and feelings that would be resurfacing.
Britain didn't want any extra anger and frustration from Seven's unsuccessful surgery to mix into their situation.
"You think that would be a good idea?" She tilted her head to the side.
As always, Henderson remained honest by shrugging his shoulders. He no longer had the ability to gauge his wife like he once had. Seven was more sporadic, and she was unpredictable as ever these days. "Maybe I should just go," Britain sighed.
Quickly, Henderson shook his head. "Go where?
You came to visit," he reminded her. "And from the looks of it, you haven't even settled in yet, so that means either you didn't even stop by the place where you're supposed to be staying, or you had plans of staying here.
" He folded his arms across his built chest as he raised a brow at his daughter.
Pursing her lips, Britain sheepishly glanced away from her father. When she didn't serve him a response, Henderson reached for the door handle, opening the car door for her. "C'mon,Princess," he said as he held his hand out for her.
Britain placed her hand into his, accepting his assistance out of the car. "You're always welcome here," he asserted as he grabbed her bag and carry-on that occupied the seats next to her.
Britain found her way into Henderson's arms, and they shared an embrace.
It had been all of a month without Britain being in the city, and despite her rarely spending time with family when she did live in the city, her residing in Italy made life for them feel like it was missing a very big piece of it.
Being in her pops' arms gave her that sense of familiarity she had been yearning for since getting off the jet.
"Thank you, Pops," Britain expressed her gratitude as she rested her head on his chest.
Henderson applied a light kiss onto the top of her head. "C'mon, let's get inside," he told her as he hauled her bags for her.
She let out a deep sigh, full of nerves. She remained by the car as her stepdad headed toward the brownstone. Looking over her shoulder, she signaled for Cyro to lower his window.
"Thanks, Cy. You don't have to sit out here.
I'll be fine here," she assured with a light smile. She was hoping her decision to stay with her parents would have given Cyro the green light to head elsewhere instead of hanging around to keep watch on her. Britain felt like she was safe because there weren’t many people who knew she was in town, and no one really knew where her parents resided.
Cyro nodded his head. "You're welcome, Mrs. Justice. We'll be out here," he asserted, making it clear that despite her feeling comfortable and safe, he and the rest of security detail still had a job to do, and it would be done regardless.
Britain pursed her lips. She knew Cyro was just following Priest's orders. He had bent enough rules for her by bringing her all this way to her parents’ house even after Priest was stern about her staying in the penthouse.
Cyro would be hearing enough grief about that; he didn't want more added to it by deciding to just leave Britain.
With a short sigh of defeat, Britain nodded her head and proceeded toward the door of the brownstone, where her stepdad was awaiting her.
Henderson held the door open for her, allowing her entrance into the home.
He then brought her bags inside, making sure to close the door behind them.
He wasn't too fond of Cyro’s decision to remain posted in front of his home instead of taking off, but that was a conversation to have another time.
Now inside the home, Britain’s nostrils filled with the familiar scent of soothing lavender.
The scent had been a custom within the brownstone since she was growing up and had never changed.
She gazed at the number of growing plants that decorated a nearby window in the foyer.
Despite their lack of time and constant working, Henderson and Seven seemed to have prioritized enough time to tend to their plants that seemed to blossom more and more each time Britain came to visit.
Nostalgia rushed her as her eyes drifted to the left and were met with the marked wall that was used to document her, Brea, and Brixton's height while growing up.
It was a cliché childhood tradition, but Seven managed to bring a different level of excitement to it.
Whoever managed to grow the most inches by the end of the year was awarded with a missed day of school to spend the day alongside her and Henderson at the hospital.