Page 12 of Priest

“For a ride,” I called back over the system.

I wasn’t the type of nigga you had to tell too many times that your ass couldn’t be trusted. The benefit of the doubt and all that shit had burned me one too many times. Trust wasn’t in my vocabulary. The only muthafuckas I trusted were my MC brothers. And I damn sure didn’t trust the sweet butts—Delite was a prime example. Them skanks could only be trusted to givegood head, ride a nigga’s dick, and give me pussy when I needed it.

I didn’t even trust some of the brothers’ old ladies because their asses would sell a nigga down the river if something better came along. I’d seen too many of ’em sneaking out of a room with one of their old men’s brothers. That shit always got my men in deep shit with me because the last thing I needed was for them to be fighting over pussy. There was too much out there, and if you wanted to be a simp and try to believe you could turn a whore into a housewife, then that was on you, but don’t fuck up my organization when the bitch fucked you over.

My brothers knew I didn’t play that shit either. Our bond was too tight to ever let pussy get in the way of the work we had to do.

“But where?” she called back.

I ignored her, revved my engine again, and turned up the volume on the system. I didn’t want to hear her whining or asking too many questions. The only people who knew where we were headed were my VP, Sunny, and Jagged.

I had been to Christopher Morgan’s home on a few other occasions. His beautiful daughter hadn’t been there, but I had seen photos of her, and I had seen her in passing when I visited him.

I had wondered what it would feel like to be wrapped up in her luscious thighs and digging into her pussy. The first time Morgan had caught me staring at her photo, he explained that she was already set up in an arranged marriage with his business partner, Daniel Usher.

Morgan inherited a logistics company that specialized in ground transport from his father and began running drugs through the company. He had made an agreement with Daniel Usher, the owner of Usher Logistics, a company that specialized in air transportation.

Both men hoped that by working together, they could expand their reach and branch off into maritime transport also.

September was Morgan’s bargaining tool because word on the streets was that Daniel Usher’s old ass had fallen in love with her the minute he saw her at the tender age of sixteen. I knew that men like him could only harm a woman like September.

But I didn’t give a shit. I was only using September for one purpose. I wanted to fuck Morgan over the same way he had fucked my MC over and the same way he had once fucked someone else up who meant a lot to me. I had been plotting this shit for some time, and now that I had my opening, I wouldn’t look back. Christopher Morgan would pay dearly with his life, but he would suffer first.

When we pulled up to the secured gates twenty minutes later, I entered the passcode and waited for the gates to open and then pulled up the steep mountain. Large pine and poplar trees surrounded us on both sides of the long road that led further up the mountain. By the time we came out of the woods, the creamy sweetness and citrus scent of the magnolia trees welcomed us.

“What’s this?” she asked after I stopped the engine.

She slowly climbed off and removed the helmet. I watched her as she stared up at my two-story log cabin.

“A retreat,” I stated.

“What sort of retreat?”

She rubbed her arms and looked all around when my dogs barked in the distance.

“Where are the dogs?”

“Right now, they’re in the back, but they will be patrolling the grounds in a minute, and they won’t be put away. Not for thirty days,” I explained with a wink.

Her eyes widened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Welcome to Eden. This is your home for the next thirty days, September.”

“As in the garden of Eden?”

I nodded.

“Who do you think you are?” She shrieked. “You come in, snatch me from my home, carry me away to a motorcycle club, and lock me away. Then, when I decide that I don’t want that for myself, you whisk me off on your bike and take me to a place in the middle of nowhere! And you call this Eden? There’s nothing godlike about any of this except for your god complex. You’re a narcissist, Priest. Fuck you!”

Shrugging, I replied, “I’ve been called worse. You want to run away, daddy’s girl? Try running away in these woods.”

September glared at me.

“Let me see you do it,” I dared and crossed my arms over my midsection.

“Why? So you can set your dogs on me?” she asked angrily.

“No, sweetheart. If you really want to go, then go. If you make it out, then I won’t chase you.”

---