36. Corinthians #2
Uri made his way over to where I was sitting and sat next to me.
His leg brushed mine, and he put his arm along the back of the couch we were sitting on.
He patted his leg, and I put my leg across his.
Psalms walked outside at that exact moment.
She looked at us; her brow creased in the middle as her eyes jumped from me to Uri.
We hadn’t had a chance to talk about what was going on with Uri and me, and I knew she had questions.
Her eyes were filled with curiosity and even pain.
“Auntie Bug!” Judah yelled, coming to the door. “Can you come play the game with us?”
“Sure, Judah,” she answered slowly. She left the porch without looking back.
I started tapping my left hand against my thigh. “I have to talk to her,” I finally said. Uri’s hand covered mine, and I looked at him. His brow went up. “I haven’t told her anything.”
Uri licked his lips and nodded. “W-w-w-w-what are you going to tell her?”
“That I want to try,” I truthfully told him. “That I’m scared as hell. Even though there’s a small part of me that is scared I’m making a mistake, I have to at least try because it’s all I think about.”
“A m-m-m-m-m-mistake?” he moved his hand from mine. “T-t-t-t-t-that’s h-h-h-h-how y-y-y-y-you f-f-f-f-feel?” his eyes narrowed.
“What do you call it?” I questioned him. “Uri, we are so fucked up. Our past?” I laughed humorlessly and moved my leg from off him, then stood. I wasn’t one to argue, and I definitely wouldn’t do it with my family around. I tried to walk away, but Uri stood and took my hand. “Let me go.”
“C-c-c-come w-w-w-walk w-w-with me,” he requested.
I turned and looked at our families watching us. Judge’s brow went up, and Krude adjusted his pants on his hips. If I moved the wrong way, they wouldn’t hesitate to come to my rescue. Not that I would need it.
“You good?” Exodus asked. He stood against the fence, his arms crossed, and his eyes locked on Uri holding my hand.
“I-I-I-I-I’m okay,” I replied.
“Oh nope,” Krude said, shaking his head. “She’s stuttering. She ain’t cool.” He tapped Nine on the shoulder. “Get your people before we forget about the marriage bond y’all got in the family.”
“Four?” Nine called out. “You good?”
“I-I-I-I-I-I n-n-n-n-n-need to talk t-t-t-t-t-to her,” Uri stuttered. His bracelet started to beep loudly, and he shook his head. “I need t-t-t-t-to ta-.”
“Now this nigga stuttering?” Krude sighed.
“The fuck is up with y’all asses?” He looked between the two of us.
“This nigga watch sounded like a bomb about to go off. Don’t that shit monitor his heart rate or something like that?
The fuck your heart beating like that for?
” Krude looked at me. “Move from that nigga. If he blows up, I ain’t picking brain matter out that short ass hair or your ears. ”
I looked at Uri; he repeatedly licked his lips.
His eyes were focused on our interlaced fingers.
Our wrists were touching, and I could feel his pulse.
I wondered about his bracelet and why it beeped; now, understanding that it monitored his vitals made perfect sense.
The sound of the beeping and the feel of his pulse matched.
Nine approached Four cautiously. His eyes bounced between the two of us, confusion etched across his expression. “Four, let’s go for a walk, man,” he said, coming towards us.
“No.”
“Four, come on,” Nine repeated. “Let Corinthians go in and check on Judah, and you and I talk. Nothing crazy, give yourself a minute.”
“No.” His grip tightened on my hand, and I winced at the pain. Nine noticed my movement and sighed. My cousins did too, which made them walk toward us. Nine didn’t take his eyes off Uri.
“Four, calm your breathing down,” he coached him. “Take a deep breath; you’re hurting Corinthians.”
Uri looked down at me, his pupils dilated, his nostrils flared.
I’d seen this look before, when he was younger.
When Robert would have me strapped to his desk, Uri would black out; he fought so damn hard to get to me.
To stop Robert from hurting me. It never worked; Robert would laugh and antagonize him until he passed out from being choked.
“Hey,” I said softly as I cupped his cheek with my free hand. “I need you to calm down.” The sound of my voice snapped him out of whatever held him. He blinked, licked his lips, and let go of my hand. I could feel the blood rush to my fingers, and I sighed.
“Ay, come on,” Nine said, gently pushing him back. “Let’s go talk, come on.”
“I-I-I-I-I-I didn’t m-m-m-m-mean t-t-t-t-to hurt her,” he said, looking at Nine.
I held my hand to my chest; my middle and ring finger throbbed with pain.
“Don’t matter what the fuck you meant to do,” Judge said, coming to stand next to me. His eyes locked on Uri, nostrils flared, and his gun in his hand. “You fuckin’ did.”
“I-I-I-I-I didn’t mean to,” Uri said, shaking his head. “M-m-m-m-m-my head i-t-t-t-it’s fucked up.”
“It don’t fuckin matter!” Krude yelled. “We don’t give a fuck about that shit nigga. All our heads fucked up. That don’t give you an excuse to hurt a fucking woman. Ever!”
“I-I-I-I-I wouldn’t hurt her.”
“Yet, you did,” Exodus said, looking at my hand. “Her fingers are probably broken.”
Uri tried pushing past Nine to get to me, but Nine pushed him back. “Four, what the fuck is your problem!”
“Move!” Uri said, pushing him again. His eyes went blank again, and his watch started to beep loudly. “Move!”
“Nigga no!” Nine said, holding him back. “Get the fuck back, Four!”
Zero rushed outside and immediately came to help Nine. They tried to hold Uri back, but he wasn’t going to stop.
“The fuck is going on with him?” Zero said, struggling to hold him back.
Nine moved quickly, rounded Uri, and wrapped his arm around his neck.
He said something that only Uri could hear, then applied pressure.
Uri fought until he passed out. Nine slowly lowered them to the ground; Uri stayed passed out in his arms. Nine looked up at me; his grey eyes searched for answers to questions I knew he would never get from me.
“The fuck is going on?” Psalms asked, coming outside. Cross, Mercy, and the boys were behind her. Cross noticed that Uri had passed out on the ground, guided the boys back into the house, and closed the door behind them to make sure they didn’t see anything.
“Four had a moment,” Nine answered, still holding his cousin. His gun sat on the ground next to him, his eyes locked on my cousins. “He will be good when he wakes up.”
“A moment?” Cross asked. She looked at me then lifted her brow. “What’s wrong with your hand?”
“Nothing,” I quietly answered.
“Nothing?” Krude looked at me like I was crazy. “That nigga broke your fucking fingers and you talking about nothing? Have you lost your damn mind?”
“It was an accident; he didn’t mean to.”
“You don’t know that nigga like that to be thinking that shit,” Exodus said, shaking his head.
“Four has some anger issues,” Nine sighed.
“He had a fucked-up childhood; it’s a lot of shit that even I don’t know because he won’t talk about it.
But ain’t no doubt in my mind that he didn’t mean to hurt you; I need you to understand he didn’t mean it.
He’s going to feel like shit when he wakes up and realizes what happened. ”
“He’s done that before?” Exodus asked Nine.
“Not in a long time,” Nine answered, shaking his head.
“When was the last time?” Exodus questioned him. His hands went to his pocket.
“When he fought Citrine,” Nine answered, locking eyes with Exodus.
“Nigga, Four is the reason Citrine got that shit fanny pack and you over here talking about he didn’t mean to break her fingers?” Krude threw his hands in the air and started walking in circles. “Y’all gotta be kidding me.”
Exodus started to laugh and shook his head. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him slowly take his hand out of his pocket. His favorite rosary dangled from his fist.
“Sissy, come on,” Psalms said, coming to my side. “Let’s go get your hand looked at.”
I looked down at Uri, still passed out. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, but his face showed the pain he was holding onto.
No matter how many years passed, he was still that body locked in the cages with me.
And that’s why I said that us being more than strangers was a mistake. We held too much pain.
Yet, we couldn’t walk away from each other.
***
“So, we aren’t going to talk about this?” Psalms asked me hours later once we were back at my house. I sat on the couch, looking out the window at Uri’s house. It was dark; he wasn’t home.
“There isn’t anything to talk about.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose and dropped my head back to look at the ceiling.
“There isn’t anything to talk about?” she laughed. “Are you hearing yourself right now? Corinthians, there are a million things we need to talk about. The biggest one is the fact that Four is around and you’re acting like the shit from our childhood didn’t happen. That his daddy didn’t-“
“Robert isn’t his father,” I cut her off. “He’s the nigga that tortured him, me, and a bunch of other fucking people. Do not give him the title of anything other than that.”
“Fine, so we are going to act like Robert didn’t-“
“I know what he did to me.” I lifted my head to look at my sister. “I was there; I’m very much aware of the shit. I even have the scars to prove it. And so does Uri.”
“Then why are you acting like everything is okay? If y’all have the scars, then how the fuck are you sitting there with two broken damn fingers because of that nigga yet acting like it’s not a big deal?”
“Because he didn’t mean to.”
“He didn’t mean to?” She stared at me as if I had grown a million heads. “Are you fucking serious right now?” She shook her head. “He meant that shit.”
“He didn’t,” I denied. I sat forward, rested my elbows on top of my thighs, and put my face in my palms, making sure to be cautious of my injured fingers.
“How can you be so sure?”