Page 62 of Weddings on the West: Vol. I Brick & Destiny

“I’m working on that, too.” I felt like a failure admitting out loud that my wife was upset and I hadn’t done shit about it.

“She’s an extension of you and a member of our family. You gon’ let that nigga get away with doing that to a West?”

“You want me to kill a fuckin’ pastor, Ma?” I turned and gave her a crazy look.

“Shit, I would.” She shrugged like she was the moral compass I should follow.

“Yeah, I know. That’s how we got here in the first place. Nah, she’d be mad… I’ll handle it, though.” I couldn’t dare say out loud that I wouldn’t do that because I feared Destiny would leave me. The whole reason she married me was to save him, so what sense did it make for me to kill the nigga?

“You do that. Make it clear that she’s one of us, and fucking with us won’t be tolerated. Clearly niggas been forgetting.” She walked to the door, stopped, then turned around. “And don’t forget, you have four weeks, Brick.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

She walked out the door, and I stomped around the living room mad enough to knock all my own shit over. A while later, once Des still hadn’t got out of bed, I put my pride to the side, stepping out on the back patio to make a call.

“Reverend Isaac William Cooper II speaking. How can I help you?”

“Coop,” I said flatly. I could tell by the shift in his tone that he knew exactly who was calling.

“How can I help you?” He sucked his teeth as if I was inconveniencing him. I took a deep breath to keep my anger at bay.

“I need you to let Destiny back in the church.” I didn’t have time for any fake shit with him. My baby had been crying all day, and I was dangerously close to snappin’ on someone if the shit didn’t get fixed soon.

“People in hell need ice water. I won’t have that in my sanctuary.”

“Nigga, she did everything you told her for thirty-one years, and the first time she does something you don’t agree with, you just write her off?”

“You know what? Let’s make a deal. She can come up to the pulpit next Sunday and confess her sins in front of the congregation.”

“What?” I barked.

“If she’s willing to do that, we can work something out,” he hissed like the serpent he was.

“I’ll do it,” I choked out. “I’ll come up to the front and confess my shit,” I offered.

“Nah, nah, nah… It has to be her. She wants to be out here living like a whore out loud. Let her come repent on her knees out loud.” Something about the way that bitch ass nigga talked about my wife being on her knees for him made me flash out.

“You don’t give a fuck about her soul, bitch ass nigga! You want to humiliate her! You got me fucked up if you think I’ma let you play with her like that.”

“Wow,” he scoffed. “You halfway sound like someone who gives a damn about her.”

“I feel like because of this whole wedding situation, you may have forgotten who the fuck I am. What’s my name, Coop?”

“W-What?” He stuttered, all that bite gone from his voice.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. You gon’ see soon enough, fuck nigga!”

“Wait, wh—” I hung up, fire coursing through my veins. That nigga had gotten away with way too much shit hiding behind that church, but pretty soon he wouldn’t have shit to hide behind.

* * *

Later that night, I stood in front of Endless Prosperity Church of God in Christ with the only fool I knew who would join me in such a dummy mission with no questions asked.

“What the fuck kind of name is this for a church? It sounds like a muhfuckin’ pyramid scheme!” Kilo said, taking a hit of his blunt.

“Same shit I said.” I flared my nostrils.

“What this nigga do to you? I ain’t seen you turn up like this in a minute,” he said as he glanced back at me. He wasn’t wrong. I hadn't done no shit like this since I was a lil’ nigga, but the feel of it gave me an adrenaline rush like no other. I needed to get back to my ways.