31. Four
Four
Three hours prior…
“Come on,” Nine said, walking away. I watched Corinthians walk out of the restaurant and rush to her car.
For a moment, she looked so happy to see me; her pretty-ass eyes shone with excitement, then they dimmed, and she looked afraid.
She nibbled on her bottom lip and tapped her left hand against her thigh.
Seeing her like that pissed me off. She didn’t need to be afraid of me.
We sat at the booth Nine had originally pointed out, and he went to work figuring out what was wrong with my bracelet. There was nothing wrong; it monitored my vitals; my shit was off after seeing Corinthians.
Our waitress came to the table, took our order, then disappeared. Nine’s phone rang, and he answered, putting it on speaker so he could still work on my bracelet.
“What’s good, Ex?” he said.
“Shit, sitting here watching TV,” Exodus replied.
“Yo cousin big-headed ass doing some interview.” One being friends with Exodus wasn’t something I could’ve ever seen coming.
That was fate laughing in my face, if nothing else.
She’d met Exodus’ close friend Tobias, who was also a rapper, at a college party.
“She told me she had an interview,” he chuckled and nodded. “Focus is in the background looking mad that she is being nice to everybody but him?”
“You already know it,” Exodus answered.
“Nigga is gonna give everybody hell for the next few weeks,” Nine replied.
“I just told Khrisen the same thing,” Exodus said, referring to Focus’ brother. “Anyway, that wasn’t the reason I was calling. I called to let you know my cousins decided to do a little impromptu girls’ weekend, and I need you to lock in on their location while they are gone.”
“Where Psalms go now?” Nine smirked. “And who she drag with her, Wryanne?”
“Nah, this was Corinthians' idea,” he laughed. “They went to see Mercy and Legacy for the weekend.”
Nine stopped working on the watch and looked at the phone. “All your girl cousins went?” he asked. I could see the hope in his eyes at the thought of Cross being there.
“Nah, Cross had to work,” Exodus replied. “It’s the sisters, Wryanne, Mercy, and Legacy.”
“Okay,” Nine said, nodding. “I will lock their location when I finish working on Four’s bracelet. Shit is fucking up, and I can’t have that.”
“He here?”
“Yeah,” Nine answered. “I have you on speakerphone.”
“Ay, man, how you doing?”
“Fine,” I answered.
“I don’t want to hold y’all up, but I told Nine that I have a few business plans I need you to look at,” Exodus said. “I know your fees; shit will be in your mailbox within the week if that’s cool.”
“Okay.”
“Bet,” Exodus laughed. “I’ll talk to y’all later then.”
“Alright,” Nine said. “I’m going to call Citrine and tell him to upgrade the girls' rooms. Give them the whole floor.”
“I didn’t call to have you do all that,” Exodus replied.
“I know, which is why I’m doing it,” Nine replied. “I’ll let you know when their location is locked too.”
“Bet,” Exodus said. “I gotta go, Madea calling me. More than likely, Krude is getting on her nerves again.”
“Bet,” Nine said, then hung up. He called Citrine, had the girl’s rooms upgraded as he'd told Exodus he would, and then set my bracelet in front of me. “I think I need to make you another one. This one says it’s good, but I don’t think it is.”
“It’s fine,” I said, taking my bracelet back and putting it on again.
Nine looked at the watch, then at me as he sat back in his seat. He smirked, then picked up his phone and typed something into it. “What were you and Corinthians talking about in the hallway earlier?” he asked.
My bracelet started to beep. Nine looked at it, then up at me.
“Nothing,” I answered.
Nine nodded. “Alright.”
Our food came, and we ate in silence. When we were done, I told Nine I was heading back to my hotel.
I was in a waiting game now; Robert would make a move soon.
I got into my car, started it, and pulled out of the parking lot.
My phone buzzed when I got to the stoplight, and I picked it up to see a text from Nine.
Nine: I’m not asking questions, but I notice shit. This is her location. The plane is waiting.
I debated what to do with this information, then I remembered the look of fear in her eyes. I couldn’t have that. She had to know I would never hurt her. I turned and headed to the airport.
Present…
We were at a stalemate; we both knew it, yet neither of us wanted to back down.
I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms. Corinthians paced in front of Judah’s Pack ‘N Play. I wasn’t lying when I said he looked like her.
He was a replica of her in every way. Whoever his father was, had nothing to brag about.
“Why are you here?” she asked for what felt like the millionth time.
Her voice was low and calm, but her eyes were wild and unsettling.
I knew this look; I had seen it more times than I wanted to admit.
She had it every time she went into the ring.
She was going to try and fight me. But I didn’t blame her.
I was a reminder of her past; of something she didn’t want to remember.
She moved Judah’s Pack ‘N Play towards the door.
“Don’t do that,” I said, shaking my head. “Don’t move him.” Corinthians stopped walking and looked over her shoulder at me. “Don’t do that either.”
“What?”
“Look at me like that,” I told her. Her eyes told her on her. They were shifty; she was hanging on by a thread. “Cori-“
She stopped moving the Pack ‘N Play out of the room, closed the door, locked it, and looked at me. “Stop calling me that!” She moved fast, crossing the room and got in my face as best she could. I had a good foot on her, and at least a hundred pounds. “Do not call me that!” Her eyes flashed with anger. “You’ve been stalking me! You show up after all this time! Your cousin just magically showed up a year ago, after all that, and now, you’re here?
I don’t believe that you aren’t here for Robert. ”
“I don’t fuck with that nigga!” I snapped.
For a second, Corinthians looked afraid, but she quickly fixed her face.
“Say what you want about that other shit but don’t link me with him!
I haven’t seen him in years. Not since my uncle came to the hospital and saw me.
He saved me. I haven’t seen Robert in years! ”
“You’re lying!” She pushed me in the chest, then swung.
Her hits came fast. Years of training and abuse came in handy as she hit me.
I could feel her hitting, the pressure of her fist connecting, but no pain.
I planned to let her tire herself out so that we could talk, but I saw the light gleam of her knife as she pulled it from her back.
I moved quickly, grabbed her wrist, turned us so that her back hit the wall, and I put her hands above her head. “Let me go!”
“Stop!” I yelled at her, then slammed her hands against the wall to make her drop the knife. “I’m not there to hurt you! Chill out!”
“I’d rather die than let you take my baby or me!” She yelled, fighting back. She wasn’t hearing shit I was saying; she was in survival mode. The fear that I knew lived right below the surface was showing its face. “Let me go!”
“Not until you calm down!”
“No!” She kicked me in the thigh, but I didn’t move. “Let me go!”
“Corinthians, I’m not here to hurt you.” I rested my forehead against hers. “Please believe me. I would never hurt you.” My voice was low. “Please, Cori.”
“Uri, you have to fight me back,” she cried. I opened my eyes to see tears falling from her eyes. She sounded so much like that little girl I’d met so long ago. Her eyes were filled with fear. “Fight me, and it’ll stop. Please.”
“I can’t,” I finally said. I lifted my head, stepped back, and slowly let go of her wrist. “I can't.” I slowly moved to the other side of the room; my back rested against the floor-to-ceiling window. “I can’t fight you.”
I watched as Corinthians stood there, knife in hand, chest heaving as she stared at me. Her pain was obvious. Psalms was right. I would trigger her no matter how good my intentions were.
“He’s always been in the background too,” Corinthians said, looking at me. She looked back at the closed door. “No matter what I do, he’s always there, waiting.”
“I’ve been protecting you,” I said, shaking my head. I sat on the floor, knowing I had to make myself small so she would calm down. “Since your parents died. I’ve been there.”
She turned to look at me, her expression unreadable. I don’t know if she believed me, but I prayed that she did. I’d done everything that I could from the background. Was it perfect? No, but I’d tried because she deserved that peace. “Are you here for my son?”
No, I wasn’t here for her child. He was hers. She needed him just as much as he needed her. There was nothing that could make me want to take Judah. That wasn’t my place.
I chuckled, then shook my head. “I’m not here for Judah,” I finally said. I rested the back of my head against the window and looked up at her. “I’m here for you.”
“You know what I did to the Franklins?” Not only did I know, but I was proud.
“I saw the pictures,” I answered. Trey sent me pictures of Psalms and Corinthians' handiwork. It was bloody in the best possible way. They had done a good job, but they hadn’t done enough.
It had taken a few different teams to clean up their mess and a lot of hush money.
Yet, none of the DeCortes knew they had done it.
Exodus's friend Wednesday made sure of that. “But I ain’t here about that either.”
“You’re not?” she asked. Her eyes held so much—fear, pain, anger, interest, and something else I wouldn’t name. Not because I didn’t know; it was because I did. I just wasn’t ready to admit it because I knew it was the same look in my eyes.
“Nah,” I chuckled. “I came for work. I have a client; I wanted to meet them in person.” It was partially true. “Seeing you at the restaurant was pure luck.”
“Luck?” she asked, and I nodded. “How was it luck?”
I wiped my hand over my mouth. “I decided that I was done hiding,” I told her. “If Robert wanted me, he would have to come and get me. I can’t even lie; I was about to do some dumb ass shit.”
Her brow went up. “Why?”
“I’m tired of living in the shadows,” I told her truthfully. Judah started to cry, and we both looked at the closed door. “Get him.”
Corinthians nodded, licked her pretty ass lips, then set her knife on the dresser as she passed it to get Judah. She opened the door, and I could see him standing in the Pack ‘N Play. The moment he saw her, he stopped crying and put his arms up for her to pick him up.
“Dada!” he said, looking up at her.
Corinthians laughed softly, picked him up, and kissed his forehead.
“One day you’re going to get it right, big man,” she said, walking back into the room.
I expected her to stay on the other side of the room, but she didn’t; she came and sat next to me on the floor.
Judah sat in her lap, his head resting against her chest. We sat in silence like we did when we were kids.
The moon shone down on her face, showing her natural beauty.
“Nine being friends with my cousins means we will see each other.” She rested her head on my shoulder, and I put my hand down between us.
Corinthians put her hand over mine and interlaced our fingers.
“If you come back, we can't know each other. I can't be Cori, and you can't be Uri.”
“I know,” I told her as I looked down at our hands. “You get to be Corinthians, and I get to be Four.”
“Two strangers,” she mumbled. I looked from our hands to see her eyes were closed. Judah had fallen back to sleep. “Two people who aren’t broken.”
“Okay,” I agreed. I would’ve agreed to anything if it meant I could be next to her.
I rested the back of my head against the window again, then closed my eyes. I didn’t fight against my sleep as it pulled at me. Not this time, not with Corinthians and Judah next to me. For the first time in a long time, I felt peace.