Page 108 of 4 Corinthians

“You’re caught in the thought that he’s still that little boy,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s not. He’s a grown ass man who has been through shit you know nothing about. He’s got a shit ton of trauma. Did you hear what Nine said? He’s the reason Citrine’s big ass has that colostomy bag. Did you know that? Do you know how much anger it takes to injure someone like that permanently? Do you know how much mental instability he has? They had to put him in a sleeper hold to stop him.” She stared at me with confusion in her eyes. It felt like, for the first time, she was seeing me without the rose-colored glasses of being her big sister and realizing I was just as fucked up as she thought he was. “Why can’t y’all let each other go? Every time he came around, I told him to stay away. He never listened.”

“Wait, what?” I tilted my head to the side and thought about what she said. “He came around? When?” I thought about how I felt like I was being watched all the time. I associated them with Robert, either doing it himself or having someone do it for him. Now I was wondering how much of that was Uri.

“When didn’t he?” She stepped back and crossed her arms. “He was always around Corinthians. He was at your graduation, random places; he used to sit outside your shop and watch you. He came to the hospital when Judah was born.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“What was I supposed to say, Corinthians?” she asked in disbelief. “Hey Sissy, the boy from your childhood that was tortured along with you is around? How the fuck was I supposed to tell you that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Exactly, I kept his secret because I saw you when you didn’t think anyone did. I always saw you, Corinthians, just like he did,” she replied. “I saw a lot of shit nobody did, and because I heard you cry all those years,” she answered. She left the kitchen, went to the living room, picked up her purse and keys, then came back. She smiled sadly. “I would sit outside your bedroom door and wait for you to finally sleep peacefully. Most nights it didn’t work, but sometimes you would. It wasn’t until I was older and saw the reason why. You only slept peacefully when Four would sneak into the house. I don’t know how he did it, but he did. He would sleep in the corner of your room, under your window. Y’all would hold hands. That was the only time you slept peacefully.” She kissed my cheek then stepped back. “You might know Uri, the little boy, but you don’t know Four, the grown-ass man. He might not have meant to hurt you, but he did. That little boy might’ve protected you, but the grown man has problems that even you can’t fix. And you have to remember it’s not just you that you have to protect now. You have Judah.”

After Psalms left, I sat on my back porch, waiting on the lights at Uri’s house to come on. Judah was staying with Cross and Nine for the night. He and Deuce had no idea what went on, and we wanted to keep it that way. I decided to tell him I’d had an accident and hurt my hand. There was no way I was going to tarnish Uri’s reputation with Judah. It may have sounded dumb, but I knew that he would never hurt Judah. Hours passed, the sun eventually started to come up, and Uri’s lights never came on. Sighing, I finally gave up and went into the house. I grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch, curled up on the corner of the couch, and closed my eyes.

For the first time in weeks, I didn’t have a dream.

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.”