Page 27

Priest's gait out of the courthouse was being monitored and recorded by the swarm of media that was awaiting the end of the court session. Priest, along with his attorney and his family, was allowed to exit the premises first before anyone else. Unlike any other time when he left court, Priest didn't have that beaming and charismatic smile on his face. His jaw was clenched as the shades he now wore barricaded his eyes.

Ushering him into the SUV, Cyro listened to Priest's orders. "Stay behind and clock that gray Charger. Make sure she doesn’t get to her spot in Harlem before I do. Don't fuck this up," Priest gritted.

Cyro nodded. He was familiar with the gray Charger Priest was speaking of since he always managed to keep a close eye on Britain when Priest was nowhere in sight. Priest had everyone watched from a comfortable distance. It gave him the reassurance that his family was safe, and no one was turning their back on him and doing shit they weren't supposed to.

Shutting the door to the SUV, Cyro tapped the rear of the vehicle, signaling that the driver was free to go. Leaning back in his seat as they pulled off, Priest placed his hand on his right knee hoping it would put an end to the rapid bouncing. Furious was an understatement. The entire trial, Priest sat facing the judge. He felt a strong energy rush over him after a while of listening to Hernandez plead his side of the case. Glancing over his shoulder, he was surprised to see that it was Britain who caused the shift in energy. She was present, which interfered with his train of thought.

Seeing her on the opposite side from him had him wanting to flip the table and go fucking ballistic. Priest could have fucking sworn he told Britain he didn't want her in the vicinity of the courthouse during his trial. The fact that she pulled a shit show like this had him regretting a few fucking things.

Priest was trying desperately to calm himself down. He didn't want to go on a rampage and jump off the deep end, but he felt betrayed and backstabbed. The one thing Priest hated the most was the feeling of being played. Britain had him feeling exactly like that at the moment.

In Priest's mind, he had confided in her, shared his best quality and traits, and opened up to her just so she could do some sick shit like this. He wasn't sure what his actions were going to be when he caught up with Britain face to face, but he knew if things came to an end because of this, he wouldn't regret his decision at all.

His phone vibrated in the pocket of his suit jacket, and he retrieved it. Glancing down at the screen, he answered once he realized it was J'Ru. "Son, what the fuck was that?" J'Ru asked as he sent Sylvia's SUV off with her inside before he got into the appointed SUV of his own.

"I don't know. I'll hit you when I get shit figured out," Priest informed him, not giving J'Ru the chance to say anything else before he ended the phone call. Priest really didn't need to hear any I told you so's or receive any suggestions about how he should go about the situation. J'Ru was a cautious guy, so of course he had his reservations about Priest’s sudden interest in Britain. He didn't think Britain was a bad person, but the trust needed to be earned, and he hoped Priest hadn’t made the mistake of telling her more than she needed to know.

Priest’s mind went completely blank as he sat through the ride to Britain's apartment. He knew Cyro was doing what he could to stall Britain and keep her from getting to her place before he did. Britain had a mean streak when it came to traffic and reckless driving, so he knew she was behind her wheel cursing up a storm at the unmarked black on black SUV.

Arriving at Britain's apartment, Priest handed the chauffeur a hefty tip before getting out of the vehicle. The cold winds drifted over him as he adjusted his suit. Surveying the parking lot, he noticed that Britain's vehicle wasn't parked where it usually would be, which meant Cyro was doing what he was instructed to do.

Priest made his way to Britain's door, jiggling the doorknob to ensure that it was locked first. Seeing that Britain was no imbecile, and she had locked up after herself, he reached up toward the high lining to the threshold of the door. A few inches to the right at the top of the door was a single key crannied into a small space. Priest retrieved it, using it to unlock the door. Once he got through the locks, he sat the spare key exactly where he found it before entering the apartment and locking it up behind him. Taking a long look around, it satisfied Priest to see that her apartment was empty.

There had to be something in there that could make sense of all this for him before she got home. Priest strode toward her bedroom, trying his best to find something. He searched through her dresser, underneath her bed, her bathroom, closet— nothing. Britain had to have a motive. Everyone who fucked him over always had a motive. Was it money? The satisfaction of seeing him fall for her? Was The New York Times behind this entire ordeal this whole time so they could get the inside scoop on everything? Shit just wasn't adding up, and it was driving Priest fucking crazy. He needed to know his game plan before Britain got there so he wouldn't act too irrationally.

An idea sparked in Priest's head. Retracing his steps back into Britain's bedroom, he attained the small backpack he remembered her carrying around with her when they used to meet up at the diner. He never bothered to ask what was inside the bag since he was sure it contained nothing that could cause harm to him or put his life in danger. Sitting on the edge of her bed, Priest slowly unzipped the bag. Inside, the contents consisted of her journal, pen, and a little black box. Sitting the bag down, Priest gripped the box within his strong hands. Opening it up, he furrowed his brows at the fact that the box only consisted of nine different memory cards that were utilized for her camera storage.

Priest shut the box before zipping the bag back up and sitting it where he found it. Standing up, he concealed the box within his pocket. If there was something he needed to know, he was sure Britain would have a hint hidden on one of those memory cards. She just had to.

Priest made sure to leave her bedroom exactly how she left it before exiting. He took a seat on her couch awaiting her arrival. Retrieving his phone out of the breast pocket of his suit, Priest shot a text over to Cyro.

Priest: Lay off .

That was enough for Cyro to put some distance between his SUV and Britain's Charger, allowing her to drive freely to her apartment. Once she noticed the vehicle was no longer tailgating her, she stuck a middle finger out the window.

Priest sat there in complete silence. He was trying his best to order his thoughts, but Britain had his mind boggled.

After a few more minutes of waiting, Priest could hear the tumblers in the locks interchange. He sat up with his elbows rested on his knees, waiting for Britain to enter.

Britain, whose plan was to avoid Priest for a few hours, felt her soul snatched from her body at the sight of him occupying a space on her couch. She had no idea how he managed to make it to her place so quickly. She instantly regretted his knowledge of knowing where her spare key was concealed. Gulping down some saliva in hopes of clearing her dry and cached throat, Britain eyed him.

"Priest, what are you doing here?" She tried her best to remain calm and act normal. Bending down to get her aching feet out of the heels, she realized that Priest gave her no response.

Priest was hard to read most of the time, but right now had to be the hardest. He looked so empty and emotionless that Britain couldn't make out whether she should just give him some space or coddle him.

Realizing the space between the two was making things far more awkward on top of the silence, Britain shuffled her way over to him.

Craning his head up at her so his orbs could meet hers, the menacing look he gave her made her stop right in her tracks. She was frightened at how much darker his eyes seemed to be. They were filled with a blackness that looked like it could eat her alive. Whatever demon was raging within him, Britain knew her attendance at his trial was adding more fuel to the fire.

"Did I do something?" Britain uttered nervously. She was hesitant to speak to him, but she knew silence would lead her nowhere. Priest stood to his feet. Britain was no longer standing over him. His six-foot-five frame towered over Britain in intimidation.

"Why you make me trust you if you were just gonna do this?" Priest asked. Anger had diminished from his tone as disappointment began to settle in. He really felt like his last hope, last resort, last… everything had gone to waste on Britain. Wasted time, wasted sex, wasted laughter, wasted energy. Everything was a fucking waste when it came to her at the moment!

"Priest, what are you talking about?" Britain furrowed her brows, unaware that her deflecting the truth would only upset him more.

"C'mon, Britain. Don't try to pull this fucking game on me!" he jeered through clenched jaws. "Now answer my fucking question!"

During the month of enjoying her best moments with Priest, she had never heard him raise his voice, and she never expected him to raise it at her. Britain honestly expected Priest to cry out of sadness from what he'd been through before lashing his anger out on her. The firmness and roughness in his voice wasn't the one she preferred when he was deep inside of her exploring the depths of her mind and body. This type of tone was what brought tears to the eyes, and she felt them brimming at her slanted feline-like lids.

Usually, Priest would find her so gorgeous as she bore her orbs into his. There was an innocence within them that made him just want to kiss every inch of her body and nurture her from all the scars of her past. Even though he was far too afraid to admit it openly, Priest had fallen in love with Britain. He loved every part of her, the good and bad, the beautiful and the ugly. She had the class that brought him to his knees. It pained him that not only was she lying to him at the moment, but she seemed to be against him.

"Priest—" Britain reached up and cupped her gentle hands around his face. She forced him to crane his head down so he could look at her. His dark orbs were filled with the same look that graced them the night before: hopelessness. Britain felt horrible that she was now the one evoking that feeling out of him. This was never her intention.

"Britain, be honest with me. That's all I need is the truth," Priest croaked in defeat. There was no use in being angry. Even if he tried to be, he couldn't. Britain had a long-lasting effect on him. One thing he knew he could always count on Britain for was the truth. He was hoping he could still get that from her.

"Can we sit so I know you won't leave? I don't want you leaving, especially pissed at me." Britain's light and airy voice trailed into his ears, causing his heart the fill with warmness.

Priest’s orbs pierced Britain's deeply. He could see she was being genuine, so he agreed to sit down and listen. He brushed Britain's hands from his face. He didn't want any physical contact with her. The more her soft hands graced against his skin, the harder it would be for him to leave her if he needed to.

"Britain, start explaining before I leave you in my past," Priest warned, his harsh words striking against Britain's heart consecutively, one after the other.

Britain sighed before sitting her sweaty hands on her lap. "First, I want to clarify that I never lied to you, and I never will. I'm no liar." Britain didn't want Priest thinking she was showing him one thing and doing the other. She was genuine, especially when it came to him.

"When we first met, I led with the fact that I have connections to The New York Times , and you assured me that was no issue. Since we've been enjoying each other, I've never attempted to lure information about anything out of you. Everything you've ever told me, you told me on your free will, and I made sure to keep it between us. Priest, you opened up to me. I would never take that for granted. Do you really think I'm that type of woman?"

Britain furrowed her brows. She wanted some understanding of where his head was within the situation. She could understand that going against his request to not show up would upset him; however, what she would never understand was him doubting her loyalty to him. Even in the toughest situations, Britain would never side with anyone besides Priest.

Priest shrugged his shoulders as he held his head in his hands. "I don't know, Britain. You tell me."

Britain was definitely offended, but she realized he had the right to be a bit disrespectful. He was confused and wanted his guard up just in case things played out how he was assuming. "I'm gonna let that one go because we both know I've proven my loyalty to you." She let out a sharp sigh.

"Get to the fucking point, Britain!" Priest snapped, no longer feeling the need to listen to her plead her case. "Am I gonna be looking out for myself or for me and you?! Right now, you not telling me shit that can clarify that for me!"

Britain stood up from her seat, standing before him. "Listen, one thing I do know is that you're not disrespectful, so I won't tolerate it!" Britain spat. "Speak to me how I'm speaking to you!"

Priest scoffed. He knew he may have taken it a bit too far by raising his voice, but she had to understand where he was coming from. Priest hiked his head up at her. "Britain, miss me with that! You expecting me to act all civil and shit after finding out my shorty playing both sides! You got me confused for some lame!" He shook his head, shaming her.

Britain rolled her eyes. "Who told you I was playing both sides?! J'Ru?!" She placed her hand on her hip.

Priest smacked his lips. "J'Ru ain't have to tell me shit! You don't think I felt your fucking presence, Britain?!"

"What do you want to hear, Priest?! I took a fucking job to write the front page about you! Is that it?!" Britain finally let out, defeat and sorrow embedding her eyes as she looked at him.

"Britain, fuck all that shit!" He waved her off. "I just need to know if you're with me or against me!"

"I'm with you! You know that, and I know that! Don't ever question me again!" Britain, who was growing frustrated at Priest questioning her loyalty, slightly pushed his chest.

Priest ran a hand down his face. "I'm supposed to believe that so easily? Shit don't even feel the same anymore." He shook his head. "We built this shit off transparency and trust. How are we supposed to continue if you’re writing front pages about me, slandering my name?" The last thing Priest wanted to do was pull the cord on what he and Britain had. Flatlining this relationship meant flatlining his source of constant happiness. Britain brought him more joy than he'd felt in a while, and he wanted to be selfish and continue feeling that feeling.

"One thing I will never do is slander your name. I know who you are genuinely. I know what motivates you, discourages you, what makes you happy, your triggers— everything. Why would I tarnish you if I know how much you've been through? You have me confused as some snake-ass female," Britain scoffed.

Priest eyed her. Britain was honest about it all, but he still felt the need to protect himself. "Let me see what you wrote," he ordered.

Britain eyed him. She knew he was only doing things in his best interest, which she understood, but it would’ve been nice for him to have a bit of faith in her. She nodded before waltzing over to her computer. Opening it up, she glanced over at him with a stank look. "Oh, I'm supposed to bring it to you too?" she asked slyly.

"For you to be the one that fucked up, you got some fucking nerve," he spewed at her venomously before getting up and wading over to her and the laptop at the kitchen counter.

Britain stepped aside and let him read what she had written and already sent to Frankie. She had yet to get any feedback from Frankie, so she wasn't sure if she nailed it quite yet. Britain gawked at Priest's tall frame while he leaned against the counter so he could assess what she had written about him. His dark orbs glided from left to right across the screen quickly. Priest felt relieved to see that not only was Britain not slandering him, but she also didn't incorporate any of the sacred things he'd told her during the course of their time spent together. What was said between them remained between them and not in the media.

"Read it out loud, and say it with your chest," Britain demanded with a scowl in her face and her arms folded across her chest.

Priest shifted his attention from the screen to over at Britain, cutting his eyes at her before doing what she requested of him, resuming where he left off.

" Justice took the stand with a lethal tongue and calculated responses. It was evident that his intelligence had been minimized and underestimated due to the gang-related charges that are being pinned against him. Facials twisted in confusion and disbelief as Justice tackled New York State Prosecutor Daniel Hernandez with statistical research and witty answers to Hernandez's grave questions that powered his entire argument during the trial. Throughout the heated discussion that involved the surfacing of new evidence and the tossing of inadequate evidence, Justice and his defense lawyer were able to move the court with the amount of positivity and hope Justice has instilled into the surrounding neighborhoods.

"My intentions are pure and will always remain pure. Every business I open, family I feed, child I clothe, street I clean up, I do it out of the kindness of my heart and my refusal to allow the next generation to be faced with the same adversities I had to face alone while I was their age. I turned into the person I wish I had when I was in need of help while growing up," Justice told the court with so much passion and conviction seeping through his tone. Perspective plays a huge role in any decision that is to be made regarding Priest Justice's long-lasting feud with the State of New York, the same state in which he's invested so much generosity and greatness. Where do you stand? "

With her arms folded across her chest, Britain looked up at Priest, waiting for him to say something. Throughout the entire piece, not once did she refer to him as anything negative or try to demonize him like the previous writer used to. She shed light on the good he'd done within the community along with his beliefs. Priest felt foolish for the way he addressed the situation and approached her. He had questioned her loyalty, which she'd proven to him.

"I would never do that to you," she professed.

Priest let out a heavy sigh as his eyes softened from the intensified darkness that was fueled by anger. He opened his arms up for her. She slowly began shuffling her way over to him. No longer wanting to wait for her to finish playing her childish games, Priest extended his arms grabbing her by her waist and pulling her toward him. He wrapped his arms around her securely, just how Britain loved.

"I apologize," Priest let out before kissing her forehead.

Britain hiked her head up to look at him. She cupped her hands around his face, caressing the sides of his beard. "You don't have to worry about whether I'm with you or against you," she assured him. "I'm always with you."

Priest nodded before craning down and meeting Britain for a kiss. "I'm glad I let you talk first because I was really about to knock your whole head off," he admitted, causing light laughs to flow out of both of them.

Britain wrapped her arms around his torso and gave him a side eye once she felt his gun tucked into the waistband of his slacks. "Are you serious?" she asked him.

Priest nodded his head without any shame. "Just in case you was playing with me," he shrugged. "I don't like to be played with." His tone seemed to be warning Britain to take heed to what he was telling her.

Britain nodded, indicating that she was well aware. "I understand."

"I don't want you to feel as though I've disrespected you. You just gotta understand that shit get real out there. I can't trust everybody, so I don't want anyone taking my trust for granted, especially you. I've told you shit that not even J'Ru knows. You have to understand why I take the precautions I take. My life is like a domino effect. If I fall, then everybody who I'm holding down falls with me. I just don't need nothing interfering with the people I got at my table." Priest spoke with so much authority, evoking another nod out of Britain. He felt obligated to take care of everyone, so the people he considered his “table” was just a long list of everyone who he employed, stored under his wing, and made sure was okay. They were his priority at the end of the day, so any leaks within his circle could jeopardize all of that.

"I'm sorry I made you feel as though that was about to happen. I assure you, Priest, you have nothing to worry about. I've promised you I wouldn't betray you. Just trust me." Britain clung to him, basking at the feeling of being in his arms.

Priest slowly guided her face up so he could crane down and apply a kiss onto her lips. "I trust you," he asserted, his orbs delving into hers. "Don't fuck this up. I beg you." Priest knew what measures to take when he felt as if he was stabbed in the back. He didn't want to implement any of those measures on Britain. Allowing her to know she had his trust was risky, but like always, Priest remained two steps ahead of everyone.

Britain placed her hands on top of his as he loosely wrapped his arms around her waist while she led the way to her bedroom. "You've had a stressful day" Britain's soothing voice struck Priest ears as she gestured for him to take a seat on her bed. Priest said nothing as he watched her trek throughout the room. She stopped before him, shedding her blazer and blouse from her curvaceous body.

Priest licked his lips slowly, marveling at her breasts cupped in the nude Savage X Fenty lace bra. "Let me help you." He curled his finger, gesturing her over to him. Britain strutted her way over to him, her hips swaying side to side seductively.

Standing between Priest's legs, Britain’s hands graced his burly and muscular shoulders. He unbuttoned her slacks, tugging them down past her ass. Britain let out a light laugh. "Must've forgot this ass is three handfuls," she teased with a smirk.

He chuckled as he gripped two handfuls of her rear before sending a rough smack to it. "We're getting there,Gioia." He smirked tauntingly.

Priest attempted to slip her out of her matching lace panties as well, but Britain halted him. "Relax. Let me set the vibe." Her voice had a sensual and erotic tone to it. Priest was intrigued to see how Britain could manage taking control.

He eyed her every move. The devilish smirk she had prancing on her face was usually on his whenever he had her orgasming back-to-back. "I'll be right back," she told him before turning around to make her way to her closet.

Priest sent another rough smack to her ass, causing it to jiggle uncontrollably. Instead of wincing at the pain, Britain let out a laugh. Priest was satisfied with this reaction. He was molding her.

Priest remained on the bed as Britain scavenged away in her closet. "Save us both some time, and come out of there naked," Priest chuckled as he took his suit jacket off.

Britain laughed. "Oh, you would enjoy that." She rolled her eyes jokingly before exiting the closet once she attained what she was looking for. Concealing it behind her back, Britain made her way over to Priest as he gave her an odd eye.

"Gioia, what you hiding?" he questioned her with a raised brow.

Britain smirked before she brought her hands from behind her back, allowing the handcuffs to dangle from her pinched fingers.

Priest immediately shook his head. "See, this what we not about to do. You dead wilding."