Page 120 of 4 Corinthians

“You could try,” he chuckled. “Just know, I won't hesitate to defend myself by any means necessary.”

“Good,” Corinthians said from behind me. I didn’t hear her come from the back or her approach us. Her eyes were locked on the Sensei. The front door opened, and I looked up to see the rest of the DeCortes walk in. “That means it’ll be more fun for me.”

“Oh, hell, the Ghetto Power Rangers are at it,” Krude sighed. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him lock the door and start pulling the blinds. “I don’t even know what happened, nor do I care. Ex, call a clean-up crew.”

“Judah, you and Deuce go to the back and sit with GiGi until her daddy gets here,” Corinthians said, watching the Sensei. This dumb ass nigga stood there, cocky as fuck, like his life wasn’t in danger. His focus was on Corinthians, like he was excited by the fact that she was angry.

Judah and Deuce ran to the back. Corinthians waited for the door to close before she shook her head. I knew that relaxed demeanor, the way her eyes lost their sparkle, and that snapped something in me. There was no way my woman, my future wife, was ever going to kill a nigga while I was next to her.

“Cori?” I called out, and she slowly turned her head to look at me. “I got it baby.”

“Oh hell, The Incredible Hulk is about to do his Hulk Smash shit,” I heard Krude mumble. “I’m too tired for this shit. Somebody kill this nigga so that we can go. I’m hungry.”

“I thought you were tired?” Judge asked him.

“I’m both, Harlot.”

Because the Sensei’s attention was on Cori and not me, I grabbed him by the throat. He hit me on the forearm, but it didn’t matter. I slammed him into the wall, knocking the wind out of him, and hit him so hard his head bounced off the brick wall every time I hit him. The sight of blood flowing from his nose and mouth excited me. I dropped him; his knees gave out too quickly for my liking. This nigga was weak. I kicked him in the side so hard, I heard his ribs break. He screamed, but I didn’t care. I put my foot on his throat; he clawed at my foot, gasping for air. I was seconds away from putting my full weight on his throat and crushing his windpipe, but then I saw it. The small crest branded on the inside of his wrist. I lifted my foot, kicked him in the head, knocking him out.

“Take him to the warehouse,” I said, looking at Nine. His brow went up. “I have questions I need answered before I kill him.”

“So, you do know how to stop when you’re about to go too far?” Krude asked. I looked over to see him sitting in a chair that was against the wall. “Therapy’s working. I like it.”

“Shut up, Krude,” Judge said, shaking his head. He was sitting next to him, reading a book.

“Clean up is on the way; they will take him to the warehouse,” Exodus said.

I nodded, not caring about shit else but Corinthians. She stood near the back door, her hands at her side, her left hand tapping her thigh. I approached her but didn’t touch her because of the blood on my hands.

“Cori?” She looked up, her eyes finding mine. They were filled with tears but also fire; she was pissed. “Tell me so I can fix it.”

“He kicked her so hard I’m pretty sure her ribs are broken,” she said, and I nodded. I knew this was taking her back to her childhood. I needed to get her out of here, so she could deal with her emotions without prying eyes. I knew her family meant well, but she didn’t need a million questions right now.

“Ima go wash my hands, and then we are leaving,” I told her. She nodded. Her eyes locked on the Sensei knocked out on the floor. I went to the back, found the bathroom, washed my hands, and then headed to find Judah.

“J-J-J-J-J-Judah?” I called out as I pushed a door open to the locker room. Judah sat next to a little girl; more than likely, this was GiGi. He was still pissed, but the moment he saw me, his shoulders dropped, and I could see he relaxed. He stood up but didn’t move away from GiGi. Little man was protective as fuck. “W-w-w-w-we about t-t-t-t-t-to g-o-o-o-o-o-o-o.”

“GiGi daddy here?” he asked.

“I’m n-n-n-n-n-n-not sure.”

“We can’t leave until he’s here,” Judah said, shaking his head. He sat back down next to her.

“Judah…”

“Four, we can't leave,” Judah repeated. “We don’t leave ours behind. No matter what.”

“Four!” Nine called out. I looked over my shoulder to see him standing there with a mug on his face. “GiGi daddy here.” I nodded. Nine stepped back, and a tall dark-skinned man walked into the hallway. He was dressed in scrubs and a lab coat. Dr. Tatum O’Neal didn’t look like your typical doctor, with his low fade, diamond earrings, and black diamonds on his wrist and neck. This was a hood nigga.

“Where’s GiGi?” he asked, looking at Nine and me. “Glory! Where you at, baby girl?”

I stepped back to show Glory her daddy in the hallway; she got up, with Judah’s help, and they walked to her father. As soon as she was close enough, he scooped her up, and his hands went to her side.

“My mama checked her out,” Judah said, standing in front of him. “She said her ribs might be broken. She wrapped her up.”

Dr. O’Neal pulled up her shirt just a little and nodded. He ran his tongue over his teeth, then looked at me. This nigga was a killer, no doubt. How he was looking at me was full of rage that only could be calmed by the sight of blood. “Alright, I appreciate the information, Judah,” he said, looking down at him. He put his hand out for Judah to shake. “Yo mama told me that you were looking out for her. I gotta thank you for that, man.”

“You’re welcome,” Judah said, shaking his hand. “GiGi is my best friend. I’ma always look out for her.”