Page 143 of The Love of Priest

"You handled it? That fast? You stand on big business ‘bout family!" Mirsad jolted up from his seat in excitement as he slapped hands with Priest.

"Yeah, I handled it. Ain't nobody gunning for you until you get yourself in some shit again," he scoffed.

"What you did, gun the nigga down? Or you snatched his moms for what he did to my mama? You had to do something crazy?" Mirsad's eyes widened as a rush of adrenaline flowed through him. He wanted to hear all the details Priest had to spare.

Priest eyed Mirsad oddly. "No," Priest shook his head. "I cleared your fucking name and debt. You're clean," he assured Mirsad.

Mirsad instantly grew uninterested and disappointed at the fact that Darius hadn't been gunned down. "Yo, he came at my mama," Mirsad reminded Priest.

"Yeah, and you also stole his shit and tried to play him. Eye for an eye," Priest shrugged, causing Remy to agree.

Mirsad smacked his lips. "Man, whatever. I’mma be inside getting my stuff," he muttered before heading into the house.

Priest sighed. Mirsad still had some things to work on, and being in the streets was one of them. "How's he been?" he asked Remy.

Remy glanced behind him to ensure that Mirsad was nowhere in earshot to listen in on their conversation. "Keep this between us, but he's a good kid," Remy admitted, causing Priest to laugh. "He just need some guidance. He opened up to me about his pops, too."

Priest was familiar with Mirsad's dad, Officer Peter Jenkins. Peter's relationship with Nia wasn't the best or the typical. A relationship between an officer and a prostitute shouldn’t have brought a child into the world, but it did. Mirsad had only seen his father through one picture Nia showed him that she had stolen the last night she ever heard from Peter, the night she told him she was pregnant with Mirsad.

The picture had inked a permanent spot in Mirsad's mind. He never imagined that the next time he saw his father would be while he was being detained and searched by him. Peter was a coon. He was aggressive to impress the whites in his profession. He was one of those black officers who used excessive force on black men and women without a care because he liked the feeling of being in power. Mirsad was roughed up, hand cuffed, and searched by his own father, and he didn't even bother to tell Peter that he was his son.

No one knew of this aside from Remy, and Remy had made a promise to never tell a soul. Mirsad claimed he wanted to keep his dignity.

"Yeah, it's clear he's in pain about it. Every man that talks to him gets thatyou ain't my popstreatment." Both Remy and Priest had gotten that rant from Mirsad when he was frustrated about them checking him as if they were his father. He was young, pained, and inexperienced.

Remy sighed. "Keep him close, PJ. He looks up to you a lot. Y'know?"

Priest nodded. Luckily, their conversation came to an end as soon as Mirsad came into view with his duffle bag hanging from his shoulder. "Ready man?" Priest asked him.

Mirsad nodded before turning in the direction of Remy. "I appreciate you for looking out, Mr. Demings," he thanked Remy with a light smile.

"Call me Remy, son," he assured Mirsad. "Stay out of trouble." The two slapped hands, saying their final goodbye.

"A’ight, Remy. Call me if you need anything," Priest said to him as he prepared to leave.

Remy nodded, seeing them off. Priest was leading the way to the car. Just as he got to the gate, Mirsad stopped in his tracks, calling for Priest to do the same. "Hold up."

Priest turned around to face Mirsad with a questioning look masking his face. "What's up?"

Mirsad glanced up at Priest, then back to Remy who was already sparking a thick, rolled joint on his porch. "I think I'm gonna stay here for a little while longer if that's cool with Rem." Upon hearing that, Priest raised his brows in shock just as Remy leaned up in his seat.

Priest shifted his eyes between a shocked Remy and a hopeful Mirsad. "That's cool with you, Remy?"

Remy eyed Mirsad briefly with a light smile. He nodded his head. "Fine with me, man," he shrugged.

Figuring he had no room to decide for Mirsad, Priest agreed. "Aye, what you want me to tell your moms?" Priest asked Mirsad.

Mirsad shrugged. "Tell her I'm trying to do better," he advised Priest.

He was proud of Mirsad. He nodded his head before thanking Remy. "I'll check in with y'all," Priest said to them as he exited the gate to get into his car. He definitely wasn't expecting Mirsad to suddenly want to stay with Remy, but he understood why. Remy had that effect on young men like Mirsad.

Priest checked the time and realized almost half an hour had gone to his disposal already. He found his way to the penthouse quickly, which was a bit shocking. Bypassing security, he made his way up with ease. Upon entrance to the penthouse, he was a bit taken aback by the number of women sitting and having a joyous time in his home. Locating Jazzy within the swamp of eleven other women, he shot her a look of confusion.

Jazzy was in the middle of getting one girl's measurements with the measuring tape she had around her neck. Priest strode over to her, wanting answers. "Yo, what the fuck?" he caught Jazzy's attention.

"Oh, hey, PJ! I hope you don't mind. We're having a fitting in here." She smiled up at her brother.

Priest smacked his lips. "Yo, clear my shit outnow," he warned her with a stern eye.

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