Priest (BLP Motorcycle Clubs #10)

1. Priest

THURSDAY AFTERNOON

“Everybody here?” I asked, looking around.

“Yep,” a few chimed in.

“It’s no secret that Prospect Keyes lost his place.”

A few chuckles, mumbles, and snide comments went around the room.

“His ass couldn’t hack it. Better now than later down the road,” Road Rage, my treasurer, piped up. He’d earned his name not because of his animosity against other drivers but because of the fury and road rage he incited in others with his lunatic behavior when he was on the road.

“What belongs to me belongs to me. I don’t fuck with your shit, and you don’t fuck with mine. I’d like to think I’m a pretty tolerant muthafucka.”

Some murmurs of agreement went up.

“I’ve explained the rules more than once, and I ain’t got time for that shit. I can be a patient muthafucka until you cross me up. With that being said, Cheekz is my only ho for now.”

Everybody murmured. Cheekz sidled up to me, wrapped her arms around me, and smiled. She knew that she would never be my old lady because I didn’t believe in that shit. Several of my men had settled down with one old lady, but they still fucked the hos. I didn’t believe in that shit. If I ever settled down, and I wouldn’t because I didn’t trust bitches, I wouldn’t be fucking nobody else except for my woman.

“Delite is officially community property as of today. She can fuck who she wants to fuck and suck who she wants to suck. Ain’t got shit to do with me no more.”

Hoots, cheers, whistles, and catcalls went up shrilly in the room. Some of the other sweet butts laughed, commented, or made sounds of disbelief.

“What? Priest, I told you?—”

“I’on give a fuck what you said. You only had one rule, and you fucked it up. You don’t get no second chances from me when it comes to my pussy,” I replied.

“Seriously?” she asked.

“If you ain’t in agreement with that shit, it’s cool. But get your bags and get the fuck on. You ain’t gotta go, but if you stay, then know that you’re just like the other sweet butts. You will get the respect and protection that you deserve as a woman and a human being, but you ain’t getting no special rights,” I explained.

Delite’s eyes lowered briefly. A couple of the sweet butts came up to her and took her hand. She looked at Cheekz briefly, who blew her a kiss and smirked at her before she stepped away with the other girls.

“Stop that shit,” I commanded Cheekz. “Trust me, I will be looking for her replacement soon.”

“With one of these bitches?” Cheekz asked.

“Nah.”

She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. Unfortunately, Cheekz had gotten the big head and would need to be replaced too.

“Get out of here for a minute. I need to talk to the men,” I stated, slapping her on her bare ass. Her short denim shorts barely covered the top portion of her ass cheeks, which was how she got her name. She kept them on display at all times because she knew I loved that shit.

I waited until she and the other sweet butts left before I spoke up.

“What’s up, Prez?” Ox asked. That big ass nigga fit his name, but he’d earned it because of his love of oxtails.

“Lyon’s got some news for us,” I answered and crossed my arms over my midsection before I turned to the big, hairy guy beside me.

“We were supposed to meet up with Christopher Morgan at one this afternoon to get our guns or our money. He never showed up. I tried calling him, and I got no response.”

I raked my thumb over my chin before pulling my fingers through my thick beard. It was time for another trim because that shit had grown out of control.

“Look, he knew what the risk was if his ass didn’t show. Since he couldn’t be bothered to show up, then we’ll take the party to his ass,” I stated.

“At his house?” Jagged asked.

“Hell, yeah,” Sunny, my VP, agreed.

“You do realize that nigga lives in a muthafuckin guarded fortress,” Lyon commented.

“That shit’s rumors. Morgan’s got two guards at any given time, four at best. There will be two at the front gates, one at the front door, and maybe another one patrolling the grounds. You can’t see the house from the gates. Taking the first two niggas out won’t be a problem.”

“Shiid, they gonna hear these straight pipes long before we roll up,” Sunny remarked.

“That’s why Jagged and Excavator’s gonna ride up in the cage.”

We referenced all four-wheel vehicles as cages.

“Which one?” Sunny asked.

“The Range.”

Our Range Rover was an armored vehicle that could withstand anything, thanks to the modifications Excavator put on it. He was not only good with cars but also unearthing valuable knowledge.

“Yeah, boy. You ain’t said shit but a word,” Jagged replied, rubbing his hands together.

“Moon, you ride too. Y’all take them muthafuckas out. I’ll be on Bluetooth, so you just give us the word when we need to roll,” I instructed.

Jagged, Excavator, and Moon nodded.

“Geek will hack his cameras right before we roll up. Everything will go dark as far as his technology is concerned. Sunny, you, Lyon, and Chainz are gonna head to the back and secure the grounds back there. Don’t let a muthafucka creep out that back door,” I demanded.

The three men nodded.

“Ox, Knuckles, and Road Rage will cover the front in case we get visitors.”

“And you?” Road Rage asked.

“I’m going straight through their muthafuckin’ front door.”

“You think he’s gonna have the money?” Moon, our secretary, asked. Moon’s eyes were so big and bright against his dark skin that it was like looking at a moon in the night sky.

“I’m not even interested in his money any fucking more. His ass thought he could punk us. I’m about to show that nigga who’s the bitch, and it damn sure ain’t me. I don’t want his money or anything else he has to offer. At this point, I don’t even want his guns. That nigga disrespected me for the last time. He had one chance to return my shit, and he blew it. If he doesn’t have my guns, then I’m going after something a whole lot more valuable,” I explained with a sinister grin and with darkness blazing in my heart. I knew what Christopher Morgan prized more than anything else, including his multi-million dollar business.

“What’s that, Priest?” Sunny asked.

I smirked. “A valuable asset that I’ve had my eye on for a while. Just call me the bill collector today. Immortal Descendents, in six hours, we ride,” I stated.

“We ’bout to do this shit!” Moon shouted.

“Aye, nigga, I’m still ‘’bout to go get my tat. We got six hours. That’s more than enough time,” Sunny stated. “Anybody down to ride?”

“Shit, I need to get my shit tightened up.” Lyon responded and patted a tattoo on his left bicep.

“I’ll roll. I ain’t got shit to do,” I replied. A few others chimed in that they would ride too. Everyone left the room, but I stayed back for a few minutes to go over some financials with Road Rage. When I made it out into the main room, I saw Delite already cuddled up with Chainz, our mechanic. I knew that she would land on her feet. That was why I had no problem tossing her aside.

The prospect she had fucked didn’t make out as lucky as she did. Not only had he fucked my ho, but that nigga had the nerve to have stolen from us. My trigger finger got happy as fuck, and Jagged, my enforcer, who earned his name from the jagged scar on the right side of his face, had spoken up and declared the nigga dead.

Ten of us rolled out and headed for our tattoo shop, Immortal Ink, three miles away. It wasn’t long before we pulled into the parking lot, and our pipes announced our arrival.

“Them bitches fine as fuck,” Rage muttered after we shut our engines down.

I checked out the two beautiful women Rage watched who climbed into the royal blue BMW 740i. My eye was on the driver for a different reason than Rage’s was. Lady Luck was on my side tonight.

“Yeah, they’re fine. But I’ma tell you what I don’t do… bougie bitches.”

“Shiid, those are the best ones to break in,” Rage countered.

“Them the ones that be dissin’ your ass in broad daylight and begging for a nigga’s dick when the sun sets,” Jagged declared.

“Still. They’re more trouble than they’re worth,” I grumbled.

“How would you know? You don’t fuck with bitches like that,” Chainz stated.

I laughed. “There you go, underestimating your prez again.”

“Shit. We should be calling his ass Keeper instead of me,” our cleanup man teased. His name was Crypt Keeper because he was in charge of the storage space the Crypt, where we cleaned up our human crimes. I didn’t know anybody that got a thrill out of that shit like Crypt did.

I tuned them out and watched the woman as she backed out of the space. They had just left the tattoo shop that we were about to enter. She slowed her car to a crawl as they passed by us, just as Cheekz walked up to me and wrapped her arms around my waist from behind.

Some of the other women walked up too. They had ridden here in one of the SUVs because they were about to get a tattoo, too, Cheekz included.

“Who’s that bitch?” she mumbled from behind me.

I shrugged but didn’t respond as the woman lifted her eyebrow, smiled at me, and then winked. I felt my dick jump in my jeans, which caught me off guard. I didn’t easily respond to women’s overtures, and definitely not bitches like her.

I knew exactly who she was, and Cheekz would soon find out. Although the woman flirted with me, she had no idea that we would be meeting in person very soon. I had seen her around town, and though I knew who she was, she had no idea that I did business with someone very close to her. And that someone was indebted to me.