Delirium

Chapter 5 #4

He carried me away from the crowd, across the grass, all the way over to building one. When he put me down, I looked up at him with a frown, like he’d lost his mind.

“Ssss,” I hissed, shaking my hand, at the feeling of stinging.

Sucking my teeth, I looked at my scraped-up knuckles. Shit. Her teeth must’ve rubbed up against them.

“You need to chill,” Exodus said as I started to pace.

I was out of breath. My ribs hurt from him carrying me.

And my knuckles. My fuckin’ knuckles. They stung like a bitch.

Again, I shook it off, continuing to pace.

Glancing over at him, I huffed. “What you mean I need to chill? Did you not see her walk up to me? Was I supposed to just sit there and let her get off on me? Yeah okay.”

I was pissed. Not because she approached me but because he stopped me. Kenya deserved more. She deserved worst. What type of… Who the fuck approaches someone after their brothers funeral? She… bro.

With a heaving chest, I looked up at the blue sky, tears wetting my eyes. Today was a horrible day. Today was… it was more than horrible. I couldn’t find the right word but… whatever was worse than horrible, that’s what today was. She was lucky I didn’t kill her.

“Let me see,” Exodus said, grabbing my hand, stopping me from pacing. “Her shit ate through for sure.”

There was blood. How hard had I hit her?

“You got Band-Aids and shit?” he asked, locking eyes with me.

I sucked my teeth. “No.” I snatched away and wrapped my shirt around my hand. Walking away, I headed for my building.

My emotions were all over the place. If Meech was here and he knew I was out fighting in the courtyard over Vellz’s ass he would go off on me.

But see… what happened… it wasn’t about Vellz.

It was about respect. Any other day, I would have walked away.

Would have just left Kenya’s dumb ass standing there.

But today was a day and what she did was super disrespectful.

I snatched the door to my building open and started up the stairs, ignoring crackhead Esha when she asked me if I had any change.

When I heard her ask someone else for money, I stopped and looked over my shoulder.

Exodus. He’d followed me. Instantly, I frowned because…

what the hell did he want? Before Meech passed away, I only saw Exodus Christ a handful of times a year.

He pitied me. That’s what this was about.

He thought I was some hopeless little girl who needed support.

We locked eyes.

His glossed over with something I had never seen in them before.

It wasn’t that pity I thought about earlier.

It was something else. Something that would be hard to believe if I told someone else.

Compassion. Softness. Because I could’ve just been reading into shit, I looked away.

Exodus Christ? With softness in his cold dark eyes?

Never. I continued up the stairs and he followed me.

“You following me,” I pointed out.

“Trying to chop it up with you,” he said.

“I don’t want to talk.”

“You don’t need to. Actually, I would prefer if you listened.”

I glanced over my shoulder at him and continued up the stairs.

By the second flight, I was out of breath.

I couldn’t remember the last time the elevator worked.

Considering I’d been climbing these dusty ass stairs for years, I should’ve been used to it.

But I wasn’t. It was a struggle every time.

Especially when I had groceries to carry up.

I stopped. Took a deep breath and put my hand on my hip, hissing at the stinging from my knuckles.

Again, I shook my hand and looked up at the peeling paint on the ceiling, catching my breath.

A second later, I felt his presence behind me.

Not too close. Not far away. But close enough for me to smell whatever cologne he wore.

Would have noticed it earlier when he picked me up if I weren’t so pissed off.

He smelled good. It was smoky. But sweet too.

He smelled exactly how I thought Exodus would smell.

Like a man.

Like a man with money.

“What do you want?” I asked, starting my trek up the last set of stairs. My apartment was on the third floor.

“I just told you.”

“Say what you need to say.”

He didn’t say anything. Went quiet and continued to follow me down to my apartment. It was weird. Having him follow me. I didn’t know him like that. Like I said, we hadn’t exchanged words. Not before Meech. So having him on my heels, giving me money, wanting to talk to me… it was a little odd.

I stood at the door, unlocked it and glanced over at him. “You can’t come in.”

“Why not?”

“Because… I don’t know you,” I said with a frown, as if he hadn’t stepped into the apartment that night Meech died.

Lightly, he chuckled, looked away and then back down at me.

“So, say what you need to say,” I said, standing with my back against the closed, unlocked door.

He couldn’t come in because the apartment was a mess.

I hadn’t cleaned since before Meech. There were food trays all over the coffee table, clothes scattered around.

Trash piling up. Dishes in the sink. The roaches were having a field day, honey.

I hadn’t put down any boric acid or anything. I was a mess, for real.

He ran his tongue over his thick bottom lip, his expression softening more.

Stepping forward, he held his hands out.

With dipped brows, I looked down at them.

He wanted to hold hands with me? Why? The way he held his hands out reminded me of the last time I held mine out for Meech.

I swallowed and my shoulders raised a bit, tensed.

Pulling my bottom lip into my mouth, I chewed on it before lifting my injured hand. Blood sat in the creases of my fingers.

“Remember?”

He dropped his hands, nodded toward the door. “Oh yeah. Go handle that.”

I turned away, opened the door just enough for me to walk in, careful not to show too much of the apartment.

With a deep breath, I hurried to the bathroom to clean my knuckles up.

Snatching the junk drawer open, I rummaged through it, looking for band-aids and the little thing of Carmax since I didn’t have any wound ointment.

After finding what I needed, I turned the faucet on and ran my knuckles under the warm water, hissing a bit.

Delicately, I dabbed at them with tissue, put a nice amount of Carmax on top of them, and slid the Band-Aid on, covering the scrapes.

When I made it back to the door, he was pacing, with his phone pressed against his ear.

He looked over at me, put his finger up, and kept talking.

I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the doorframe.

Down the hall, I noticed Dom and Lakeland heading our way.

Lakeland tilted her head to the side, looked over at Exodus and then back at me.

I shrugged my left shoulder.

They made it to the apartment and gave Exodus the side eye, eyebrows dipped the same way mine were.

“You good?” asked Dominique.

I nodded and showed her my hand. “I’m good.”

“What’s going—”

“I’ll be in in a minute,” I said, cutting Lake off, widening my eyes at her, stepping aside so they could go in the apartment.

Lakeland walked by first. Looked over at Exodus and then at me again. They were going to have all types of questions. The same way they did when I told them he gave me money for the funeral. I didn’t tell them how much, but they knew he gave me a lot of money. Vellz’s bitch ass knew too.

When I went back into the bedroom that day, with the envelope and told him it was Exodus at the door he got to talking so much shit.

Swore up and down I was fucking him too.

Said niggas didn’t give bitches they weren’t fucking money.

He kept asking how much it was. Kept making sly comments, saying Exodus was the reason I hadn’t fucked with him.

I let him talk, eventually putting him out.

Once Lake and Dom were in the apartment, I closed the door and looked over at Exodus with a sigh. We made eye contact and shortly after, he ended his call, stuffing his phone into the pocket of his dark jeans.

“My bad,” he apologized, holding his hands out again.

I hesitated but I gave him my hands eventually. He lifted the injured one, examining the work I put in on bandaging it up. After a couple of seconds, he lowered it, locked eyes with me and asked, “Can I pray for you?”

“W—what?”

“Prayer. Can I pray for you?”

I drew back with a frown. Not one that said I was disgusted or judging him.

I was genuinely surprised. Yes, the Christ family were religious.

Growing up, they owned what would be considered a mega church.

I mean, it wasn’t the biggest but it was mega in reputation, community, and congregation.

They did a lot for the city of Brickhaven, taking care of many families, spreading love and the gospel regularly.

But that kind of died with Pastor Isaiah. After he died, things took a turn.

The church was boarded up and the boys… they changed.

Before they were always outside but mainly in suits, passing out flyers and stuff like that.

They did get into fights often, but they weren’t the way they were today.

After Pastor Isaiah passed, they got off in the streets heavy.

It was through them that Meech even got into hitting licks.

They used to stay out in Wildermere like crazy, hitting mansions, bringing stupid bags home.

But… that calmed down a while ago and I think they got into drugs.

Whatever the case… thee Exodus Christ asking me if he could pray for me was very, very unexpected. Regardless of his background.

“Y-yeah. I guess. If you want to.”

He shifted his weight and took a deep breath. I watched as he closed his eyes, tightening his grip on my hands a little. Not too much on the injured one, though.

He cleared his throat and I closed my eyes.

“Big G. You know who it is. Today I’m out here with…

” he paused and I said my name. “Yeah, Sereia. You know I ain’t never been too good with names.

Sereia… she suffered a major loss. Her brother.

Her provider. The person who took care of her.

Right now, her spirit is heavy. Her heart…

the same. You know they go hand in hand, for real.

I come to you, humble, asking you to lighten the weight of her pain.

Give her comfort in ways that only you can.

Soften her emotions. Fill her spirit with love, light, patience, acceptance and grace.

Strengthen her, Lord. When she feels weary, guide her toward you rather than further away from you.

Help her understand that this is just a part of her journey—not the journey itself.

It’s cloudy as fuck right now, but eventually…

shit will ease up and she’ll smile again. Genuinely. From the soul.”

When he cursed, I cracked my eye open a little and looked over at him with furrowed brows. Who the hell cursed during prayer? He didn’t miss a beat though. Kept going like cursing during prayer was second nature to him. Like it was nothing. Got damn heathen.

He ended the prayer shortly after, asking God once again to guide me closer to him, rather than a part. I was shocked. So shocked that when he said Amen, I didn’t say anything for about a second and a half.

“A—amen.”

He released my hand and his eyes met mine.

They weren’t as soft as they were before. They were a little piercing.

“That drinkin’ shit… don’t get used to it. It don’t help anyway. I know you want to crash out but nah… now's not the time for that.” With raised brows he stared harder. “You hear me?”

I shrugged and looked away.

“I been there. It’s heavy as hell right now but…” he paused. “Doin’ wild shit, drinking and all that.. It won’t help. It’ll only make matters worse. Can’t be out here sloppy, drunk, fighting and shit. I’m sure big bro wouldn’t even want you on that type of time.”

I didn’t say anything. Wrapped my arms around my body and just nodded.

“Keep yo head up, Sarah.”

I squinted. “Sereia.”

“Oh shit, my bad. Sereia.”

He walked off and I watched him until he was about three doors down. As soon as I walked back into the apartment, Dom and Lake were on my head.

“What the hell was that about?” Dom asked. “And why is it so damn dirty in here? It stank!” They were all in the apartment earlier. Guess they were too riddled with grief to notice how dirty it was.

Lakeland turned her nose up. “It’s definitely reakin’ in this bitch. Is that why you had him in the hallway? What did he say? Girl, I liked to fucking lose it when he swooped your ass up. You know that bitch still down there talking like you didn’t just drag her rat ass?”

Lakeland talked fast. A hundred and fifty words per minute for real.

As she talked, she picked up around the living room, grabbing food containers and junk mail.

Dom snatched the trash bag out of the bin.

I stood off by the door, still a little caught off guard by Exodus’s prayer.

Not because he cursed but because he prayed.

I mean, they prayed at the funeral… people said they were praying for me.

But nobody had ever actually prayed for me, with me.

Nobody but my mama, at least. That was… wow.

“He prayed for me,” I blurted out, cutting Lake off.

They stopped in their tracks. “Wait—what?” asked Dom. “Exodus’s big, mean ass did not pray for you.”

I nodded. “Grabbed my hand, bowed his head and spoke to the man upstairs,” I said, referring to God as the man upstairs like my momma used to.

“What the hell,” said Lake.

“Same thing I was thinking,” I mumbled, his words still heavy on my mind.

It wasn’t like the prayer was profound. It was simple. Generic, really. It was the fact that he did it at all. That was going to sit with me for a long time. Probably for the rest of my life.