Page 154 of The Love of Priest

Britain held his face in her hand, pulling him down so his lips could meet hers. The kiss was light and quick but contained so much passion and emotion. Priest had endured serious trauma that he hadn't attempted to heal from. All he did was improvise and tiptoe around it. Someone died; get extra security. Someone double crossed him; kill them. Someone he loved got hurt; make them happy. Priest was a fixer. He fixed everything around him… except for himself.

"God, I have to fix you," she breathed with a light chuckle.

Priest’s orbs peered down at her, a slightly amused look panning his face. "Word? What you mean by that?" he asked her with a little laugh.

"You heard me," she scoffed with a smirk as she readjusted his arm around her. "I don't mind, though." She shrugged her shoulders.

Priest leaned his head back against the plush leather seat of the vehicle, a content smile gracing his face. Britain was just so refreshing.

"I love you, playa," Priest professed in a soft voice.

Britain let out a light sigh as her thumb caressed over his tattooed knuckles. "I love you too, playa."

They eventually arrived at the gala. Passageways for vehicles were becoming more and more restricted by officers who were patrolling and guarding the perimeter of the Liberty Gala. As they drove through the roads that led closer to the gala, Britain kept her eyes fastened outside of her window. She didn't want to miss a second of it.

Priest cleared his throat, catching Britain’s attention. "When you get in there, don't try to fit in. They're all fucking simple-minded snobs," he scoffed. Although he was there to play nice with the simple-minded snobs, that didn't mean he had to actually like them.

Britain laughed while nodding her head. "Noted," she confirmed.

Once their vehicle was stopped at the front of the venue, Priest let out a heavy breath, preparing himself for three to four hours of listening to honorary guests rave on and on about their philanthropic efforts. As others used the gala for an annual fancy night out amongst New York's best of the best, Priest used it to network.

Cyro got out of the car, aiding both Priest and Britain out. "Look above anyone who has a camera head, so the flashing won't irritate your eyes," Priest advised Britain once more. She nodded her head, being receptive of what he was teaching her before they went in.

"Don't let anyone lure conversation out of you. Mostly everyone in this motherfucka has a motive or has a long-standing contract with a tabloid. You will be a quote in the next issue of whatever's published tomorrow."

"Should I share my credentials?" Britain asked in a low voice as her nerves began to take over. Showing up to this gala on the arm of Priest Justice was an open invitation for judgement. Britain was prepared for all the ridicule she was set to receive for being the leading reporter on Priest's case while screwing him. It was far too late to back out now. The closer they got, the louder the flashes of the cameras and the questioning of the reporters grew.

Priest shook his head. "Just be my lady tonight and enjoy yourself, Gioia.” He smiled down at her. She gave Priest’s hand a light squeeze, indicating that she understood.

Jazzy, Kaymen and J'Ru caught up to them. At check-in, before they stepped into the mayhem of the media and flashing lights of the cameras, Jazzy halted everyone.

"I know today is a rough day for everyone, but I don't want us suppressing what we're really worried about," she announced to everyone as she reached into her clutch. Extracting a total of five medium sized brooches, she handed them out to each of them, keeping one for herself. The brooch contained a picture of Jamari as the perimeter of the pins were decorated with diamonds. "I made them last night. Everyone we meet tonight, he'll meet them too," Jazzy explained as she pinned the brooch to the upper right part of her dress.

Priest reached out and pulled his little sister into a hug. This was sentimental and sweet. He had begun to feel guilty about being at a gala just a day after Jamari passed in his arms, and this brought him comfort.

With Britain’s help, Priest fastened the brooch against the breast pallet of his suit. Peering down at it, a small smile tugged at his lips, reflecting the caged smile Jamari was sporting with his mouth full of braces.

As a group, they plunged themselves into the madness of the media. Priest kept Britain’s hand in his as he led the way further down the line of awaiting cameras.

Britain did as Priest advised her to do. She kept her eye contact above the head of anyone who had a flashing camera. Photos of her on Priest’s arm were being taken from various angles. She mentally encouraged herself to ease her breathing so it wouldn't be so apparent that she was nervous as hell.

After the high demand for photo content, Priest was finally able to lead Britain inside where they would be arranged for seating. "You did good," he praised her as he spoke close to her ear.

Britain let out a shaky breath as she nodded her head. "I'm used to being on the other side of the action."

Priest smirked smugly. "Welcome to my world, Gioia."

They were all seated at a round table. Priest had managed to pull a few strings to sit at the exact same table with mayor,Leila Jenkins. She was surprised to see Priest and his entourage were her and her husband's table mates, but she saved face. Leila definitely wasn't a fan of Priest, especially with all the charges pending against him.

He left a horrible taste in many politicians’ mouths after the number he did on the late mayor, Bill Cunnings. Their ties were eerie to anyone with their right mind, but Bill welcomed Priest with open arms, unknowingly welcoming the end of himself and his career. Priest fucked him over hard, but in a sense, he did the right thing.

Easing into his seat, a smug smirk framed Priest's face as he eyed Mayor Jenkins. "Leila," he said to her, his tone heavy with ill amusement. Just by the way Mayor Jenkins’ face was screwed up, Britain knew it was about to be one hell of a night. Here she was, seated across from the mayor while her boyfriend sat to the left of her, teasing the mayor. Life couldn't get any crazier.

"Mayor," Leila sharply corrected Priest for the way he addressed her.

Priest let out a chuckle that was followed by a scoff. "Well, if you're mayor, then I gotta be governor or something, since I've been doing more for the community than you have."

Leila slit her eyes at Priest with a glare. Who would have thought her biggest opposition was the ally of Bill? When she met Priest prior to Bill taking his own life a result of him not being able to take the heat and ridicule of the media, she thought Priest was some sweet, saved kid that had a troubled past and wanted to get cleaned up. Others called him Bill's charity case, but Leila saw something different. He had motives, motives that she used to think were innocent and good. Now, that was completely out the window. Priest Justice was bad news, and she would be damned if she fell for his facade like Bill had.

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