37. Four
Four
“Go to therapy,” Uncle Bradon suggested.
I nodded as I stared out of the window of his house.
When I woke up, it took a moment to realize where I was.
I wasn’t in the backyard of Cross and Nine’s house; nah, they’d shipped my ass to Uncle Bradon’s other house, in Florida.
I already know how they kept me sleeping for so long.
Ms. Nadine.
“I planned on it,” I told him. “I just never got around to it.”
“Why not?” he asked.
I searched the backyard for something to keep my focus on.
I wasn’t ready to talk. Not yet. But after what I did to Corinthians, I knew I didn’t have a choice.
Not if I wanted her in my life, by my side.
I couldn’t put her or Judah in jeopardy like that.
I hadn’t blacked out in years, but that didn’t matter now.
I wiped my hands on my face and leaned forward. “Pride,” I truthfully said. “I didn’t think I needed it. That I could handle my shit.”
“And now?”
I laughed, shook my head, and looked over at him. Uncle Bradon sat at his desk, cigar in his hand, a serious look on his face. He was dressed in a black-and-white striped suit with a stark white shirt underneath. I knew without asking that it was from Mahogany’s line. That’s all we wore.
“I know better.” I licked my lips then turned my attention back to the window. “She deserves the best version of me. They both do.”
“And what do you deserve?”
“Them.” I nodded.
“Then do what you gotta do to make sure y’all get what you want,” Uncle Bradon said.
We sat in silence for a while. “I gotta ask though.” I looked over at him without fully turning my head.
“How you gonna stop Robert from getting to her?” He put his cigar down and my brow went up.
I never discussed Cori with anyone besides Trey and Eight.
They’d been through the same shit she had, so they knew the pain.
We all carried it. “Robert is going to see y’all happy and start making moves. You need to come up with a plan.”
“I plan on talking to Trey,” I said.
“Yo brother can’t help you,” he said, shaking his head. I could tell he was disappointed in what he thought Trey and Gentle had done since agreeing to work with Robert. “Find another way.”
“Unc-“
“Change the subject,” Uncle Bradon said, cutting me off. I couldn’t do anything but respect it. He’d let it be known that he felt that Trey and Eight were in over their heads and wanted them to pull out. The fact that they didn’t fucked with him. He thought he’d lost them for good.
“Alright man,” I said, nodding. “When I get back to KC, I’m going to therapy.”
“Before you get back,” he corrected me. “I have someone in mind. She’s a little unorthodox, but she can handle your shit.”
“How do you know?” I asked. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust his words, but I was hesitant.
“Berkeley is good; I knew her mentor. She’s a little unorthodox but ain’t nobody better.”
“What the fuck does a little unorthodox mean?” I asked.
“You’ll see,” he chuckled. He reached into his drawer, pulled out a card, and held it up. “She’s expecting your call.”
Sighing, I stood, walked across the room, and took the card from him.
“Berkeley Forrester.” I read the name on the card, then looked at Uncle Bradon. “Why does that last name sound familiar?"
“Her daddy is Tulane Forrester,” he replied. Immediately, I remembered his name from a meeting I went to as a kid with Robert. “And no, before you ask, he ain’t what you think.”
***
Two days later, I was sitting in my office, staring at the computer, trying to figure out whether Uncle Bradon hated me or not. There was no fucking way this woman was licensed to do anything but drive a car. Even that was questionable at this point.
“So Four, tell me about yourself,” Berkeley said as she stared at the computer. Her dark eyes sparkled with excitement as she swayed.
“Like what?”
“What do you do for a living, how long have you done it, how many people you’ve killed.” She shrugged. “You know, the basics.” My brow went up, and she laughed. “Look, I know your uncle, I know how this shit goes. Truthfully, I’m a little surprised it’s taken you this long to reach out.”
“Why?”
“Are we going to play dumb?” she asked and rolled her eyes.
“Okay, fine, let’s do this because I don’t like my time wasted, and while this is your money, it's still my time.” She readjusted in her seat, and all the joking and smiles disappeared.
“Why are you talking to me, Four? And please don’t say because your uncle gave you my card because you didn’t have to call. ”
I turned my attention to the window and stared out of it. I wasn’t going to lie to Berkeley; there was no reason to. “I want to get better.”
“For?” she inquired.
“Cori,” I answered. “And Judah.” I laughed and wiped my hand over my mouth.
“And what about you?” she questioned.
“If they are good, then I’m good,” I told her. “They are all that matters.”
“Tell me why, because from what I know, you’ve only known Corinthians for a few weeks and Judah a few months. What makes them so important that you want to change?”
I sat back in my seat and took a deep breath.
“I’ve known Corinthians since we were kids,” I finally said.
“When everything was chaotic and crazy as fuck, she was there. I remember when I first saw her, first heard her voice, saw her smile, and saw her cry.” I looked at the computer to see Berkeley watching me.
“I want to make her happy. Be her peace, protector—a father to Judah.
I want to love them in ways that can't be explained but seen when we are around. And to do that, I need to be here, talking to you, getting better. Because they deserve the best of me.”
“And they’ll get it,” she said, nodding. “Now, let’s get to work.”
***
“Four!” Judah ran to me, a smile on his face.
His hair was braided, and he wore his karategi.
I knelt, and he jumped into my arms and wrapped me in a hug I didn’t know I needed until now.
I missed the fuck out of him, and the thought hit me like a ton of bricks.
Yeah, I missed Corinthians. I saw her every day for nearly three weeks before everything went down, and because I saw her, I saw Judah.
We had at least one meal together each week.
This feeling was what I explained to Berkeley; they felt like home. “What are you doing here?”
“To see you,” I told him as I let him go. “That okay?”
“Yeah!” he nodded, then stepped back. “Come on in! Cross is here until mama gets home.”
“Nah, man, let’s sit outside.” I pointed to the steps. It was a nice day, and even though Cross knew I was here, I wasn’t stepping foot into Corinthians’ house until she invited me in. Judah sat down, and I joined him. “How was karate?”
“Bad,” he answered, shaking his head. “I keep losing. Every time, no matter how hard I try.”
“Why?”
“Because GiGi is better than me!” he fussed. He crossed his arms and sighed. “You don’t know what it’s like because you’re so big.”
“I wasn’t always big,” I chuckled. Cars drove down the street. I hadn’t heard from Trey this week, which meant more than likely Robert had him on a short leash. “Tell me about GiGi. Why can’t you beat him?”
“GiGi isn’t a him,” Judah said, shaking his head. “GiGi is a girl; her name is Glory.” His face twisted, and I nodded. “Mama said I can't hit girls, so when we have to spar, I don’t fight back.” He looked up at me. “I can’t fight back.”
“You can fight back,” I chuckled.
Judah shook his head. “I can’t; Mama said don’t hit girls. GiGi is a girl.”
“Judah, I think your mom means you can't just randomly hit a girl. In karate when you’re sparring, it’s okay. As long as you aren’t trying to hurt her.”
“You sure?” he asked, and I nodded. “Good, because I was tired of getting beat up by GiGi.” He sat back, resting his elbows on the steps behind him. “She hits hard though. So, I might still lose.”
Corinthian's Jeep pulled into the driveway, and I felt my heart slam into my chest. She got out, her eyes bouncing from Judah to me. She looked good as fuck dressed in a pair of fitted jeans, a yellow V-neck shirt that was tucked in, and a pair of Mercy’s signature shoes.
She closed the door of her truck, and I noticed her hand.
That shit hurt my heart, knowing what I did to her fucked with me.
I’d been going to therapy for the last few weeks, attempting to get myself together.
I knew it wasn’t going to be an overnight process, and I’d be fixed, but I was still going to try.
“Mama!” Judah greeted her with a smile. “Look! Four is here!”
“I see,” she said as she approached us. The smile on her face was real, genuine, and pretty as hell. She licked her lips. “Hey, do me a favor: go in and shower so we can go get some dinner.”
“Can Four come?” Judah asked, looking between the two of us. It was obvious he realized how tense it was between us. All he knew was I was back, and he wanted to have dinner.
“Umm, let me talk to him about it,” Corinthians said. “Now go on, take a shower and get dressed.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, then got up and went into the house.
“Hey,” Corinthians said once he was gone.
“H-h-h-h-hey,” I replied. I stood; Corinthians took a step back, and I hated that shit. I never wanted her to be afraid of me. “How y-y-y-y-you been?”
“I’m okay,” she answered. “You?”
“Bad,” I told her, and her brow went up. The hesitation that had been in her eyes just seconds prior was gone, and now she looked curious.
“What’s wrong?”
“I m-m-m-m-m-missed you,” I told her. I looked away for a second to watch a car drive down the street.
Once it was gone, I turned my attention back to Corinthians.
“I wanted t-t-t-t-to say I w-w-w-w-was sorry.” I licked my lips and stepped into Corinthians' space. “I’m sorry, Cori.” I cupped her jaw and lifted her face to look at me. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”
Corinthians stared at me. Her eyes searched mine, and I wondered what she was looking for, what she saw. Whatever it was, I would give it to her.