43. Four #2
“Not tell Cross what?” his head tilted to the side. “That our son could be in danger or that you have a history with her cousin?”
“Both.”
“Why?”
“Because Robert killed the DeCorte parents,” I told him.
Nine fell back into his seat and lifted his head to the ceiling. “What kind of fucked up shit is this?” he asked, but not talking to me. He lowered his head and looked at me. “What the fuck do you mean Robert killed their parents? I thought everyone but Cross’ parent died in a car crash.”
“Robert’s doing,” I told him. “He wanted Cori, got nervous that she was going to tell her grandparents, so he had Ruben sign over his rights, then killed them.”
“But they were raised by their grandparents.”
“Had to be some pull on the DeCorte’s end. I remember Robert being pissed for months. He kept saying that there was an error on his paperwork. I never found out what it was, nor did I care. I just knew she was safe.”
“She was in straight hell,” he said, shaking his head.
“Cross told me that Corinthians went through a stage where she didn’t talk, was being bullied, and all kinds of shit.
She was the reason that Granddaddy got them into the family business.
He saw Corinthians drowning and needing an out.
He thought he was teaching her to survive. ”
“She already knew how. Robert got his hands on her well before that.”
“Now her hating that shit makes sense,” Nine said.
I shook my head. “She doesn’t hate it,” I told him.
“Yes, she does. I’ve seen her a few times at the warehouse. She only does it when she has to.”
“She doesn’t hate it,” I told him again. “Trust me. She doesn’t, which is why she doesn’t do it often.” I stood. “I wasn’t the only monster Robert created.”
***
“I’m starting to think my child would rather spend the night everywhere but at home,” Cori said, coming into the living room.
I checked the salmon, then stepped away from the stove.
After I picked her up from Madea’s, Judah, who had decided along with Deuce, was staying at Psalms' house for the night.
She was going to take them swimming in the morning, then bring them home.
“You sad?” I chuckled as she sat at the island.
She pulled her legs to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. “No, just not ready for him to be that independent,” she answered with a shrug. “I knew it would happen eventually, but I didn’t think it would happen when he was this young.”
“He’s hanging out with his best friend who also happens to be his cousin at your sister's house,” I reminded her.
Cori had the nerve to look sad, and like the sap I was when it came to her.
I felt bad. Her love for Judah was unmatched; she was a dope ass mama, and that was a beautiful thing to witness.
I rounded the island, stood behind her chair, then wrapped my arms around her. “If you want, we can go get him.”
“No,” she laughed softly. “I’m just in my feelings for a second. Mama guilt and all.”
“What are you guilty of? Loving your kid?” I kissed the top of her head and then went back to check the food. I wasn’t going all out or being fancy, just making simple blackened salmon Caesar salad. Everything was ready except for the salmon.
“I wish it were that simple,” she laughed. “I had a rough patch after Judah was born. I couldn’t do anything.”
“Postpartum ain’t no joke,” I told her, nodding.
I’d forgotten to ask Nine about looking into Cori’s baby daddy, but now she was giving me the opening to ask her about him.
“You have a good village though. I know your people stepped in and helped out, but what about his father?” Just putting a title on a nigga that I had yet to see or hear about fucked with me. To me, Judah was mine.
“It wasn’t PPD,” she softly replied. “I mean, no, I take that back, it was but…”
“You don’t have to explain,” I told her. I plated the salmon, then turned off the stove and moved the pan. “Just as long as you are good now, that’s all that matters.”
“I am,” she said. “I go to therapy; hell, I’ve been in therapy most of my life.
” She laughed. “Madea and Granddaddy didn’t give a damn about the funny looks they got for taking us to therapy when we were kids.
She said we needed to figure out how to handle our emotions, thoughts, and feelings.
We weren’t angry, well at least I don’t think my cousins were, but I was. ”
“Your anger was different though,” I told her. I took everything we needed from the fridge. “You and Psalms had every right to be angry.”
“I know that now,” she agreed. “But back then?” she shook her head.
“I felt like I was drowning, yet the room was empty. As a kid I was so fucked up, just lost, scared.” Her eyes watered, and she smiled sadly.
“I was scared for everyone around me. Robert, he took not only my parents but my aunts and uncles. I watched my grandparents mourn their children quietly but love us loudly. It was so exhausting, emotionally, I mean. I knew I was supposed to be sad my parents were gone, but I wasn’t.
By the time they were killed, I hated them, wished death on them more times than I can remember.
I cried when I found out they were dead, but not because they were gone.
I cried because I thought I was going to be free.
But then Robert and Logan showed up to their funeral.
” She laughed and shook her head. “They showed up, and Robert reminded me that he would never be too far away. That I would always be his.”
“That wasn’t true,” I quickly told her. I stepped back around the island and went to pull her into my arms, but she held up her hand to stop me. “Cori, what Robert said, what he did, it was a power move to scare a little girl. You were a kid.”
“Who’d already been through hell, Uri,” she reminded me. “Robert was the boogie man to me, the scary thing that lived under my bed.”
“I know,” I told her because I did. I understood her fear. “But your grandparents wouldn’t have ever let him get to you. They would’ve protected you.”
“Baby, Robert had already killed my parents after he promised me he would if I ever told anyone what he was doing to me. I don’t know what happened or what had my parents and him spooked, but right before they were killed, he asked me if I told them what was going on.
I said I did. I don’t know why I did, but I did.
Robert promised me that he would kill them. ”
“He didn’t.”
“Nope, he didn’t,” she said, shaking her head. “He killed my parents, aunts and uncles instead. My lying was their death sentence. As a kid, that shit fucked with my brain so much that I didn’t talk for a few years. I thought if I were quiet, they would still be here.”
“Damn baby, I’m sorry.” I wrapped her up in a hug, kissed the top of her head, and let her cry. The burden Cori carried was never meant for her; she shouldn’t have ever been put in the situation she’d been placed in, but she was. And she carried that shit like a champ.