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Chapter Thirty-One

The next day, Priest kept his eyes on Britain as she pulled the bottoms of her scrubs over her rear. Their night was a peaceful one, and they slept in each other's arms until they were awakened by Britain's phone. Unlike Priest, she kept her device on at all times. Her anxiety just wouldn't allow her to do otherwise.

"I like seeing you in scrubs." Priest smirked as he tucked another pillow behind his head to position himself higher.

Britain looked over her shoulder. A light laugh sounded from her as she tightened the drawstring on her pants. "You would let me be your nurse if I were qualified?" she asked him jokingly.

"You're not qualified?" He furrowed his brows in confusion. "Why your moms got you in scrubs then?"

Britain laughed, finding his questions amusing. "No," she clarified for him. "I'm the rebel child who steered away from the medical field. I'm in scrubs because I make them look cute, and I don't think my mom’s patients would be comfortable if I didn’t blend in with everyone else while handling their sensitive information," she explained to him. Since Henderson wouldn't be coming in for the day, Seven had called Britain in hopes that she could help out. Without any hesitation, Britain agreed and was preparing herself to be on her way.

"What do I have to do to be a patient?" He raised a brow jokingly.

Britain laughed once more. "Have scoliosis, get into a really bad car or work accident, or have really bad aches in your back and neck," she listed.

Priest nodded his head before flipping over to his stomach. "Word? ‘Cause my back been hurting for a few days now," he jested before wincing in pain.

Britain laughed before smacking her lips. "You just got a massage like a day ago," she reminded him that Diane had blessed them both with her cloud-like hands.

Priest rolled back over onto his back while he laughed. "I'm fucking with you." He waved her off.

"What are you getting into for the day since I'll be out of your hair?" she asked him.

Priest shrugged. "Probably handle some business, then hit up Rem."

The night before, Priest couldn’t help but to think about Mirsad and how fucked up the young boy was. There was no way to fix someone who didn't want to be fixed, at least for Priest. He could recall a time when he didn't want to be fixed until Remy came around. It didn't click for him how much Mirsad was morphing into a version of his past self until he actually thought about how well he and Mirsad's background aligned with each other. The only difference was that Mirsad had a trying mother, but Mirsad was also far sloppier and more miscalculated than Priest. Priest hoped to get some advice from Remy to try to shake the carelessness out of Mirsad. Hopefully it would work because he couldn't risk Mirsad fucking up anything else for him.

Britain let out a heavy sigh as a guilty look panned across her face. "I'm such a horrible daughter," she shamed herself with a shake of her head.

Priest chuckled. "I mean, you said it." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Priest!" she shrieked while tossing a pillow at him. "That's not funny."

"I'm playing," he assured her in laughter. "Work on that communication with him. Rem isn't gonna bother anyone for anything. You have to free up the time and make the effort," he told Britain.

Britain nodded in agreement. "Even if it means I have to sacrifice my time with you."

Priest narrowed his eyes at her teasingly. "I never said that,Gioia."

"But that's what you insinuated," she said in a sing-songy voice while she turned to the mirror of her vanity to put her earrings in.

They both chuckled while shaking their heads. Once Britain wrapped up getting ready for work, Priest followed right behind her out of the apartment. "Thanks for doing my laundry, by the way." He chuckled as he ran his hand down the tee he had left at her place. Britain had washed, dried and made sure to iron all his clothes that were stuffed in her hamper.

"You're welcome, and I also found this in your pockets." She reached into her bag, extracting the stack of money she gathered out of the pockets of each set of pants she had washed for him.

Priest smirked down at her. "Finders keepers." He pushed her extended arm away from him, signaling that she could keep the money.

"Is that how that game is played?" She raised a brow, still attempting to give him the money.

Priest chuckled as he began making his way to his car which Cyro had dropped off for him earlier. "I'm serious. Keep it,Gioia," he insisted.

Britain sighed in defeat. "Can I get a kiss goodbye at least?" She smiled at him as she made her way to her car.

Priest looked over his shoulder with a smirk. "Yeah, that's cool," he agreed as he made his way over to her.

They craned their heads to each other as their lips met for a kiss. His hand immediately made its way to the crook of Britain's neck. He angled her head as the kiss intensified with more passion and fire.

Assuming she had Priest right where she wanted him, Britain attempted to slip the money back into the pocket of his pants. He caught her wrist in the midst of the kiss, preventing her from returning the money to him.

Priest pulled away from the passionate kiss, peering down at her with an amused yet smug smile. "You gotta come harder than that," he teased her while tapping her nose gently with his finger.

Britain rolled her eyes. "Yeah, whatever," she muttered.

"I love you, playa," he laughed as he leaned down to kiss her lips one final time.

"I love you too, playa." She wrapped her arms around his torso for an embrace.

Priest finally got Britain into her car, and she pulled out of the parking space like a maniac. They went their separate ways, Priest heading toward his penthouse, and Britain heading toward her mother's clinic.He kept the radio off just to clear his head a bit as he drove. He wasn't worried about what happened the day before with Mirsad. He was more worried about how Mirsad was going to make the situation worse. Priest knew it probably wasn't the best idea to throw his little cousin to the wolves of the streets like he had done the night before, but Mirsad needed a hard lesson that would stick with him.

Arriving at the penthouse, Priest parked his car in his assigned parking spot before getting out and heading to the elevator. Bypassing the security measures, he made his way up to his penthouse. The thick steel doors glided open, revealing Nia and Jazzy standing in the middle of the living room dancing to the upbeat sounds of Destiny's Child's song “Bug-A-Boo.”

A smile appeared on Priest's face at the sight of Nia having a good time despite what she had endured the night before.Priest glanced to the right to see Talia in the kitchen laughing while making breakfast.

"They've been like this for an hour now." Talia pointed at the two, who were using remotes as microphones.

"Singing is definitely not what you guys are destined for." Priest jokingly plugged his ears with his fingers.

Noticing he had come in, Nia turned around, immediately resigning from singing. "Hey, PJ," she smiled. "Where's Mirsad?" She looked past him in hopes of seeing her son appear behind him.

Priest glanced back momentarily, confused about exactly what she was expecting to see behind him. "Mirsad… I left him at The Groves," Priest shrugged as he made his way over to the kitchen where Talia had his plate of breakfast awaiting him.

Nia’s brown eyes watched his every move. She had a crazed look in her eyes as if she was in disbelief at what Priest had just so casually and calmly said. "Priest, what do you mean you left him at The Groves? You have security with him, right? He can't just be by himself," she stressed as she hastily made her way over to him.

"Yeah, PJ," Jazzy piped in, agreeing with Nia's worries. "You can't leave his scary ass by himself."

"Look, that's our problem now. We never let him figure shit out on his own. He makes a mess, and we hurry up and try to clean it up for him before it causes chaos," Priest told them as he unfolded his table napkin and sat it on his lap. "Nia, I'm not sure if you remember, but you got shot at last night because of his mess. He needs to be away from you right now. Mirsad is a walking target, and I can't have him jeopardizing any of our safety. I’s rather plan one funeral than multiple," he explained.

To Nia, his logic sounded completely insane. How could he just deem Mirsad's life unworthy just because he made a few mistakes as a teenager? "Priest, that's my son!" Her voice rose in frustration. "I can’t have him out there by himself like that! I don't care how near death I was last night or whatever fucking mistake he made. I'll always protect him until I can't anymore!" she fumed at Priest.

"You can't protect him from everything, Nia!" He jeered back at her, causing an immediate sense of fear to wash over her. "Your son is a street nigga, Nia. He gets off on rebelling and doing what he pleases. With that comes a lot of danger you're not ready for. You cannot lose your life because Mirsad wants to play with fire."

His voice softened at the fear in Nia's eyes. She was a phenomenal mother. She cared for Mirsad more than she cared for herself and would give him her last if it came down to it. Priest admired Nia's mothering, but she couldn't confuse being a good mother with fighting all Mirsad's battles for him.

Nia's jaw clenched as she eyed Priest. "Thank you for your help yesterday. I'll protect him on my own. He's my responsibility anyway," she said in a soft voice before turning on her heels to gather her things.

"Nia," Priest called after her, but she simply ignored him.

Jazzy glared at Priest. Sometimes he never realized how unreasonable he was being. He wanted everything to be a lesson, no matter how harsh it could be. "Nia, I'll come with you." Jazzy followed behind Nia, volunteering to leave with her.

"No one is going anywhere," Priest halted them both. "I'll make arrangements to keep Mirsad safe. Just quit stressing me the fuck out," he throated out rashly before shuttering his eyes shut and bowing his head to pray over his food.