Page 29

Chapter Twenty-One

Content with being in his presence, Britain straddled Priest's lower back as he laid face down in the center of her bed. With his hands tucked under his head, the chiseled muscles that graced his back flexed, enticing Britain.

Day three of his trial had come around, and this one was different. Things weren't sitting right with Priest, and it showed. Britain, who was present during the trial and sat off in the far back, was able to witness Priest’s frustration as he listened to Prosecutor Hernandez hit the jury with heavy facts and evidence that his lawyer, Abraham, was unable to dispute.

Luckily, Abraham thought quick on his feet and was able to get a piece of evidence about the alleged racketeering they were accusing Priest of thrown out. He claimed that not only were Priest’s bank statements not subpoenaed, but there also was no search warrant on record.

Everyone knew what type of games Hernandez liked to play in court. He bent the rules, but he was still able to influence the jury.Court was meant to be fair and clean. However, everyone who was able to be in attendance of Priest's trial knew that there was no such thing. The opposing side went tit for tat for so long that Britain was beginning to grow sick. The evidence grew more gruesome, making the heated arguments even worse.

Britain's job was to deliver an update to the people, so she did just that. This time, she wasn't able to say much regarding Priest being an ordinary human being with a good conscious since there wasn't much said about that. She still managed to refrain from demonizing him, though.

Her hands were lubricated in warm massage oil as she took on the task of massaging any kinks and tension out of his back. Her small hands slowly kneaded close to his spine as she began working her way up. "You want to talk about it?" she asked as her gentle hands continued to manipulate his back to relax him.

Priest lifted his head and shook it. "I'm good," he concluded.

"You're not good, though," Britain sighed as she continued to massage his back. "Priest, you barely spoke two words to me."

"Gioia, there's nothing to speak on. You were there just like I was. You know what went down," he said to her. He wasn't quite frustrated with her. He just wished she would let the conversation go. Priest didn't like talking about things, especially if he had to move quickly on the matter. Plans were being put into motion, and instead of delving into them with Britain, he wanted to just play things out in his mind so he could weigh all the possible scenarios.

Britain let a heavy sigh draw out of her in defeat. "Alright, Priest," she said, letting the conversation die out. Pushing for him to talk would only make him distance himself more.

They settled into a comfortable silence as Britain continued to ease the tension out of his back. She got lost in her actions, dazing out while she just went with the motions.

"Thank you," he uttered as Britain got off his back so she could wash the massage oil off her hands.

"You're welcome," Britain said to him as she made her way to her bathroom. She stood at the sink, cleansing her hands. Focused on getting all the oil off her palms, she didn't even notice that Priest made his way into the bathroom as well. He stood behind her, keeping a slight distance between them.

Propped against the wall, he eyed her through the mirror. "My bad," he apologized. "Don't think that I'm mad or even frustrated with you. I just got a lot going on right now," he explained.

Britain nodded. "That's not a problem. I understand," she replied in a light voice. "I just don't want you feeling like you're doing this alone."

"I am. My issues can't become your issues, Gioia. Your life is far too put together for me to come in reigning havoc on it." Priest was careful about who he involved in his life. Britain was definitely a curveball to him, and he never expected to make it thus far with her. He felt like she held a pretty solid place in his life, but that was what worried him the most. Being with him or even being associated with him came with a cost. Although Britain claimed she could handle the pressure, Priest wouldn't be too sure until his life applied some. He was honestly avoiding that because if shit went left, he would have to lose Britain, and he didn't want that.

Britain decided not to argue with him because Priest always insisted on being right. With him, actions spoke volumes, so to prove him wrong, she would have to show him.

"Just don't let this get the best of you," Britain told him as she dried her hands.

Priest smirked as he neared her. He wrapped his arms around her waist before dropping his head to kiss her cheek. "I'm always two steps ahead,Gioia. Don't worry about it."

She rotated in his strong arms before wrapping her arms loosely around his neck. "Do you want a family?" she asked impulsively. Priest was slightly taken aback by the question, especially since he didn't think their conversation would turn into a futuristic one.

"A family ?" He raised his brow, asking for more clarification. Britain nodded. A heavy sigh drifted out of Priest as he seemed to be deep in thought. He never really thought of kids, or even marriage, but he knew whoever bore his children would be the one he spent the rest of his life with. He wanted his children to have the life he never got the chance to have. He wanted a two-parent household and a strong family unit.

"Yeah, Priest. Like children and a wife?" Britain continued to press, hoping he could get a general idea of what she was trying to get him to understand.

Priest smirked before he shrugged his shoulders."Shit like that never really comes to mind for me. If it happens, then it does, but I would like to do things the right way. Marriage, children, then happiness," he explained as his smirk became a smile.

Britain mirrored Priest’s smile. Hearing him say that caused a warmness to blossom within her. "That's cute," she cooed while her hands cupped the sides of his face before slowly pulling him close so she could peck his lips.

Priest chuckled. "C'mon, man." He shook his head, not trying to feel sensitive and mushy.

"It's adorable, Priest. I love the fact that you care about marriage because many men don't." Britain loved everything about unity and marriage. When she was younger, she had dreams of being married by 28. Things didn't play out that way, but she knew it would happen eventually.

Priest shrugged his shoulders. "I like the idea of marriage. My shorty can't testify against me." He nodded his head.

Britain let out loud laugh in disbelief that he considered that, out of all things, as a perk of marriage. "Priest, you play too much" She shook her head, still laughing.

"Deadass, though," he chuckled. "You'll testify against me,Gioia?" he asked her.

Britain lifted her hand, showcasing that she had no wedding ring perched on her finger. Priest let out a hearty laugh, finding her response amusing. "Word? That's how it is now?"

"I'm kidding," Britain assured him with laughter of her own. "However, we won't be in any of those types of situations. Correct?"

Priest nodded his head before craning down to kiss her forehead. "You got my word," he promised her while placing his right hand over his heart.

Britain smiled at the gesture. He did it a lot. It signified that he took his promises seriously, no matter how small or big they were.

The two navigated out of the bathroom and returned to her bed. They laid next to each other with Priest's arms wrapped around her. In the distance, reruns of classic sitcoms sounded from the television. Britain felt comfortable in Priest's arms. She gazed at him gazing back at her. "You remind me a lot of my dad," Britain told him, causing a light chuckle to seep from him.

"He played a huge part in my upbringing. I'm sure without him there to teach me right from wrong, when need be, I would've probably been some clown."

Remy made it clear that he never wanted to be a father figure to Priest. He had connections with Leonard long before he got locked up. Although Leonard never really confirmed that Priest was his kin, Jeremy could see it. The boy was just as hardheaded and stubborn as him. There was no denying Priest, as much as Leonard wanted to. Priest had those same dark eyes. Since Leonard wasn't much of a father due to the circumstances and his desire to avoid Sylvia at all costs, Remy did what he could with Priest. He never spoke with Leonard about Priest— he never spoke to Leonard at all for that matter. However, he was sure the streets were telling him all he needed to know.

Britain reached up and caressed his face. The stubble of his beard brushed against the pads of her fingers. Priest instantly relaxed at her touch. "So, your dad was never really in your life?" Britain asked Priest.

He shook his head. "The only picture I seen of him was his mugshot. Niggas in my camp clown a lot whenever they update the mugshots. They send it to me and claim the more I age, the more I look like him." He let out a dry chuckle before shaking his head. "I don't see it. I guess I try not to."

"Why not?" Britain inquired.

"I don't know." He shrugged. "I guess he was just everything I never wanted to be, but somehow I landed in the same situation. It's like God wanted a repeat of Leonard, and He got it."

Priest rarely spoke of the ill feelings he had against Leonard. Everyone knew he had some hatred for him, but it was hard for him to put it into words. Whenever he found the words to speak on Leonard, it made him feel less of himself. The same nigga he talked down on was the same nigga he was becoming. He always vowed to never be like Leonard, but it looked like that was who God aligned him to be. "You're not a repeat," Britain sighed.

Priest shrugged. "If you say so."

"I know so. You're a great man." She leaned in and kissed his lips gently.

"I appreciate that," he expressed his gratitude.

"Tell me about your father." Britain knew she was trekking in dangerous territory when inquiring about Leonard, but she wanted to know. She was sure Priest needed to vent about his father just by the way he spoke with so much annoyance in his tone whenever he mentioned Leonard.

Priest exhaled a heavy sigh. "Man, I don't have a father," he clarified.

"Priest, everyone has one, whether they were present, passed, or M.I.A. He's your father," Britain explained, hoping to put an end to the way Priest was thinking.

Priest rotated from his side to lie flat on his back with his orbs fixed on the ceiling. "He doesn't feel that way, though," Priest toldBritain with a light shrug.

"Have you ever spoken to him?" She raised her brow.

Priest shook his head. "I don't have nothing to say to him. He's a coward."

"Where is he now?"

"He got out of prison a few years ago. He pretty much disappeared off the face of the earth. I ain't heard shit about him, but I'm sure he's been keeping tabs on me. If we run into each other, I'll keep it pushing, just as I expect him to. There's no point in chopping it up. He denied me when I was young, so I expect him to keep that same energy. It's way too late for him to try to act like he gives a fuck."

Hearing him speak with so much anger and grit told Britain that he was hurt by Leonard. He tried to mask it by claiming he wanted Leonard to keep that same energy, but in reality, he just didn't feel like he was enough, and he hated that. Leonard was the only person in this world to make him feel that way. Priest spent a lot of his childhood having hope that his father would come to his senses and give him a better life. If he just accepted Priest, there was no telling how different Priest's upbringing would have been. A lot of the hatred he had for Leonard definitely stemmed from the fact that he felt like his father failed him.

Everyone around him felt as though Priest should’ve been projecting those same feelings onto Sylvia, who put him through so much trauma as an adolescent. Priest felt otherwise, though. Yes, Sylvia failed him; however, she acknowledged him. She claimed him as her own, and, on some good days, she wrapped her arms around him and let him know that even though he had no father, he had a trying mother. Yes, she could have tried a whole lot more, but she never just denied him as her own. It may have sounded like he was making a ton of excuses for his mother's actions, but to him, everything resonated, which was why he would continue to tolerate her.

Britain said nothing. The look on his face let her know that he was just ordering his thoughts so he could continue to vent. Britain allowed him as much time as he needed. "I just can't understand how someone could treat the innocence they created like shit, and that goes for both of my parents." He shook his head.

Britain let out a sigh. "Some people don't deserve that innocence." She applied a light kiss onto his temple. "Your job is to never allow those situations to define who you are or rob you of that innocence. Continue to smile, continue to laugh, continue to love."

"I gotta have received love to know how to love," he breathed.

Priest had a hard time grasping onto love. Women he'd been in relationships with always parted ways with him because he never could fully love them. It was hard for him to do so since his entire life, all he'd been dealing with was the opposite of love. Priest was his best when he was neglecting his emotions and the people who claimed to love him, simply because he knew the feeling. The only people Priest could genuinely say he loved was Jazzy, J'Ru, Kaymen, and a select few of his extended family. Priest knew he felt some sort of feeling for Britain, but after admitting to himself that it was love, he was able to convince himself in the same thought that it wasn't. He considered it bliss. He and Britain were still in their honeymoon phase, enjoying the calm waters. Love would come once she withstood the rapid waters of his life. Sadly, that shouldn't have been the case.

Britain pulled him close and wrapped her arms around him. Priest laid his head on her chest, listening to the soothing sounds of her heartbeat. They weaved their fingers together so they could hold hands. Like always, Priest stroked his thumb gently over Britain's hand. "This is what it feels like," Britain eased out in her light voice.

Priest's long lashes fluttered as he fixed his eyes into hers. The darkness in his orbs diminished as they softened into a much lighter color. In an instant, Priest secured his arms around her tighter. "Shit feels good," Priest admitted in a low voice.

Content with the soothing patterns of each other's calm breathing, sleep bit at their ankles. They managed to catch up on some rest for about two hours before Britain jolted out of her sleep. She looked to her left noticing that Priest was no longer in bed. Gracing her eyes over the bedroom, she noticed that he was sitting at the foot of her bed with his grinder, weed, and everything else he needed to roll.

"You alright?" he asked over his shoulder.

Britain nodded as she sat up against the headboard."Yeah, I'm fine." She glanced around the bedroom once more before clearing her throat. "Do you need anything?”

Priest shook his head as he finished rolling his final blunt. "You take too much care of me. You forget to take care of yourself," he enlightened her.

Britain raised her brow in a questioning manner. "What are you talking about?" Fresh out of her slumber, she definitely didn't expect a heavy conversation like this.

"You woke up, and the first thing you did was attempt to cater to me," Priest pointed out. "It’s nice of you, and I appreciate it, but I feel like it's coming from the wrong place."

"I'm sorry. I'm just a naturally doting person. I like to take care of people." Britain shrugged.

Priest nodded. "That's cool, but who's gonna take care of you? Stop giving so much and start receiving," he advised her.

"I've had my share of receiving," Britain concluded.

"Who told you that?" he asked as he leaned back on his elbows.

He flagged her over, resulting in her straddling his waist. He had remained shirtless, causing her small hands to palm his burly, inked chest. Britain ignored Priest's question. She simply eyed her hands as she utilized her finger to gently trace one of the tattoos on Priest's chest. "I'm talking to myself now?" He gripped her sides.

Britain shook her head before shrugging. "That's just what I was trained to think.”

Priest tilted his head in a questioning manner."Trained?" he asked, alarmed by her choice of words. “You’re not a dog,Gioia."

Britain let out a heavy sigh. "I know. I'm sorry if I'm talking in circles. It's just… I never really had a conversation like this unless I was being told what to do and what was expected of me. You're just different. You let me take the lead and give me freedom. I've never really gotten that before," she admitted. Although her relationship with Cameron was a few years before, things were still fresh. Plus, she had just run into him at Whole Foods, so memories and tendencies were beginning to resurface.

"Is this from your upbringing?" Priest asked.

He had met a few women who were nothing but submissive to their man. His mother was the first woman he ever witnessed fall to their knees for the approval of a man. Sadly, Sylvia was still being that same submissive and weak woman for Terrence. Priest was knowledgeable of the fact that some cultural beliefs revolved around catering to a man and being obedient, but to him, it was just immoral. If he ever got the privilege to become a father to a little girl, he wanted her to be raised with not only self-respect, but also with the understanding that she did not have to bend over backward to keep the next satisfied.

Britain let out another sigh. "No. You've met my mother. She's not the push over type of woman. It's just something I've dealt with in the past."

"That ex, huh?" Priest connected the dots. As soon as he pinpointed the source, Britain seemed to tense up. "Look, I'm not here to make you uncomfortable. If you want to talk about it, I'm a listening ear. If not, I can be the shoulder you lean on. Either way, I'm there for you," he assured her before lacing their fingers together so they were holding hands.

"Can I tell you my story?" She nervously bit down on her bottom lip as her eyes seared into him.Priest adjusted himself slightly underneath her. There was a sudden turn of events. The tables had turned, and it was now Britain who wanted to expose Priest to her ugly scars and the beauty of her healing. The feeling of her heart pounding against her chest caused her to squeeze Priest's hand tighter in hopes of getting some comfort. She had waited this long just to feel a genuine emotion and trust with Priest. Things were flowing organically, and all Priest had to do was just listen.

Priest nodded his head. "Yeah, of course. Everything's comfortable for you?" Priest asked since she always made sure he was comfortable whenever he began telling her his story. It helped him to trust her and not hold anything back.

"Can we do it in the dark? It'll help," Britain requested as she rose from Priest's lap.

Priest nodded once more. "Of course,Gioia. Whatever you want."

Hearing that prompted Britain to saunter over to the light switch in her bedroom. Her bedroom was now shrouded in darkness as she remembered the path over to the bed.

Together, they laid back in bed, Britain secured in Priest's arms. Her back was to his chest as she felt it rise and fall with steady breathing. There was a lengthy moment of silence. Britain was trying to figure out where to start. Anyone else would’ve started at the beginning, but the beginning was honestly full of glee and happiness. Trauma swindled itself into her life later.

Britain breathed in deeply before she began. "My mom always described me as this adorable baby. She flaunted me like I was some golden child." Britain chuckled thinking back to the times when her grandmother told her how much Seven boasted about having the most gorgeous daughter. "I always grew up being told I was the most beautiful girl in the world. I was taught to accept my imperfections and make them my perfections. Everyone around me made sure I knew I was a rare beauty, from my skin tone to the gap in my teeth. It wasn't until my mom started letting me out more that I was slapped hard with insecurities my peers used as ammunition against me. At home, my family was calling me gorgeous and beautiful, while out in society, I was getting treated and told I was the opposite. I never really voiced my issues to my mom because she's not much of a rational person. I grew up feeling two different ways about myself. I never really knew it fucked me up mentally until I started giving my all to the people who showed just the slightest attention and attraction."

"My freshman year, my stepdad moved us into a much more suburban neighborhood when he got a promotion from his job. When I got to my new school, I had to deal with the fact that not only was I the only black girl, but I also was the ugly black girl. I'm not even gonna lie. White kids take bullying to the extreme. I thought I could handle them, but that wasn’t the case. I was a freshman around this time, so I was going through that stage where I was finding myself. I did a lot of weird shit to try to fit in. My mom got into my ass when I tried to perm my hair so I could be like the other girls in school. I always had a habit of seeking approval from everyone. Around the middle of my freshman year, I got a new teacher. He was the only black person on the faculty, so I instantly gravitated toward him. He made me feel human while everyone else treated me as if I had “slave” written across my forehead. I spent a lot of time kicking it in his classroom, just filling him in on how things operated from what I had experienced. He looked out for me, and I appreciated it."

"I remember my baby brother had an asthma attack one day while my stepdad was out of the country for work. My mom had to be at the hospital with him, and my grandparents lived an hour over, so I had no transportation home after my Journalism Club meeting. While I was waiting for my mom, that teacher came out and saw me. He proceeded to ask me if everything was alright, and I explained the situation to him. I remember this odd look of sympathy that flashed his eyes when I told him I had no way home. It was almost like he was feeding off it. I brushed it off because I saw him as the nice guy who normalized being black in this all-white school. He offered me a ride home, and I just jumped at the opportunity, knowing my mom would fucking kill me for getting in a car with someone she considered a complete stranger." Britain let out a heavy huff of frustration as she continued to vent aimlessly.

Priest pulled her closer, hoping to ease her stress over the memories surfacing in her mind again. "I got in the car with him anyway. I remember him having a black Durango. On the inside, it smelled like the car fresheners, Black Ice. Hanging from the rear-view mirror was his class ring strung along a thin-roped silver necklace. We were pretty comfortable with each other, so I stupidly made an attempt to slide my finger through the ring to see if it would fit. He found it funny and laughed. He asked what type of music I preferred as he started the drive. I told him I'd listen to pretty much anything, and he put the radio on a random station. While pulling off campus, he asked me where I stayed, and I told him. My house was fifteen minutes away from school by car, so I prepared myself for the ride. I texted my mom that I found a ride home and there was no need to rush over to me.

“Sitting in the car, we listened to music and kept conversation light as I told him which turns to take every so often. About eight minutes into the ride, the conversation grew a bit heavy. Not heavy to the extent where I felt as though my life was in danger, but heavy to where I laughed out of nervousness while answering his invasive questions. He started off by asking me whether I had a boyfriend. I laughed and told him no. He then asked me if there was anyone I liked at school. Again, I laughed and told him no."

Priest grew tense because he had an idea where the story was headed. Britain put her hand over his, encouraging him to relax. "He went on to tell me how beautiful and intelligent I was. I never shied away from a compliment. I somewhat basked in it since I hadn't been getting much from anyone at school. I politely thanked him and prayed that he would drive a little faster so I could get out of the car. It felt wrong now. Nothing was wrong with what he was saying. It was just how he was saying it. It seemed like he was lusting over me now. When we were at a red light, he placed his hand on my thigh. I jumped, but he instructed me to relax. I obeyed. At the time, things weren't really registering with me, so I just let it happen. Luckily, he didn't go any further than that before he pulled up to my house. He did leave his hand there for the remainder of the ride. I remember getting out and thanking him for the ride. He rolled his window down with a smug smirk and called me “pretty lady” before pulling off. Once I got inside, things finally registered with me, and I was just disgusted." Britain shuttered her eyes closed as she tried her best not to let the memory evade her mind.

"When I realized that entire interaction wasn't okay, I started to withdraw myself. I just stopped going to school since I truly didn't know what to expect from him next. When Truancy got ahold of my mom, she was livid that I managed to miss that many days of school when she was the one dropping me off at campus. Even though she was upset, my mom knew something was wrong, so I told her. I thought my mom was gonna console me and get everything straightened out since what he did was wrong, but she didn't. She didn't even believe me. She thought I had a wild imagination since I'd been complaining about being the only black kid at school. She thought I came up with this elaborate story about my teacher touching me so I could get transferred to another school."

Hearing this come out of Britain made Priest's heart clench. This definitely changed his perception of Seven as a mother, but he knew he couldn't say much since it was evident that Britain had forgiven her mother, and they'd moved past it. It definitely bothered him, though. He couldn't fathom not believing Jazzy's claims. It cut him deep, so he couldn't see why Seven couldn't believe what her daughter said as the truth.

Britain cleared her throat to keep her emotions at bay. She found no use in crying and dwelling on it. She had already forgiven and healed.

"You don't have to tell me anymore." Priest kissed her temple. He noticed how hard it was for her to continue. He knew if the roles were reversed, she would offer the same thing.

Britain rotated around in his arms until they were facing each other. He held her tighter than before as she nestled her head onto his chest. "I'll never let anything happen to you. You got my word," Priest promised as he rested his head on top of hers.

Britain simply nodded. She had heard it before. Promises were broken a lot in her life. She only believed actions, but something about Priest's promise to her made her take it as the truth.

"Can you promise to listen whenever I need you to?" Britain lifted her head so she could lock eyes with him. Through the dark, she could feel his deep gaze and felt secure within it.

Priest nodded. "You got my word," Priest reiterated to her with his right hand over his heart.

Like any other time they had unloaded heavy past experiences onto each other, they allowed silence to sit between them so things could process properly. Although Priest enjoyed the silence, Britain hated it. It gave her way too much time to think, which ultimately led to overthinking. "Can we get out of here?"

"Where do you have in mind?" Priest asked. After such a heavy conversation, he expected Britain to want to take her mind off things. He had been around long enough to know that she liked to do things and go places she enjoyed so she could be in better spirits.

Britain sat up in the dimly lit room, a smile plastered across her face, causing Priest to chuckle. "Just go home and get dressed and meet me back here," she instructed.

"Always wanna have some type of damn adventure," Priest chuckled as he rose from the bed so he could do as Britain requested.

Britain laughed along with him. After he got himself dressed in the suit he suavely sported to trial, Britain agreed to walk him out. "Don't take too long," she warned him before he lowered his head to meet hers for a kiss.

"I'll be back," he assured her. "Don't get all in your head while I'm gone." He cupped her face in his hands. Her eyes grew dim as a somber feeling washed over her. She only told Priest a fragment of her life, and it was already hard for him to swallow and process, so he couldn't imagine how she was feeling with all these resurfaced memories and emotions.

"You have my word." She mocked him while placing her right hand over her heart just like he would, causing him to laugh.

They said their goodbyes to each before Priest left her apartment. Shutting the door behind him, Britain let out a heavy sigh. Instead of dwelling on her emotions, Britain quickly got into the swing of getting ready for her outing with Priest. It was getting late, so the sun had officially resigned from the sky.