Page 147 of 4 Corinthians

“Trey-“

“I got as much to lose as you do, Four,” he cut me off. “I ain’t just doing this shit to help you. As selfish as it sounds, I’m doing it for me too. Right now I’m knee deep into shit I can't find my way out of.”

“What do you need me to do?” I wasn’t going to leave my brother out to dry.

“When shit hits the fan, don’t think I didn’t have your back,” he answered. “I did what I thought was right. Every fucking time.”

“Trey-“

“You asked, so I told you what I needed,” he quickly said. “As my brother, I’m asking you to believe me. Over everybody else. No questions asked.”

I paused, then leaned back in my chair. Trey never asked me for shit, not since we were kids. He asked me to pick his health over Cori’s. He asked me to fight her, to win so he wouldn’t be punished, and I didn’t. I picked her, and I remembered how hurt he was. Not just physically but mentally. He was crushed, and I said I would never let him feel like he wasn’t worth fighting for. Now he was asking me for the same thing. He needed me, and I wasn’t about to let him down.

“Alright,” I finally said. “No matter what, I got your back.”

He sighed in relief. “Get the names, and I’ll get you the information.”

***

I got off the plane and walked to the waiting car. Having to leave Cori and Judah was fucking with me. After I got off the phone with Trey, I went into the house. Cori wouldn’t even look at me; she stayed with her head down, eyes focused on anything and everything but me. Shit fucked with me heavy. I ended up sitting in the corner of every room she went to. I wasn’t going to crowd her, but I wasn’t giving her space either. I needed her to realize that I was locked in for life and that Robert was going to be taken care of. There was no way around it.

“Just a heads up, this nigga is dramatic,” Uncle Bradon said before we got to the car. “Don’t take shit he says personally.”

“If he pisses me off, I’m going to kill him,” I told him. “I don’t care how much history y’all got.”

“Kill him after we get the information we need,” he chuckled.

The sun was shining bright, damn near blinding. I put my hand over my face to block it and looked around. The driver opened the car's back door, and I got in.

“It’s hot as fuck out there, why you ain’t sweating?” Tulane Forrester asked. He sat across from me, eyes locked on me, curiosity evident. A gun sat on his lap, resting on his thigh. “Neither of you niggas.”

“Can't feel it,” Uncle Bradon told him. He took off his sunglasses then set them in his lap. “You know that.”

“I forgot,” Tulane chuckled and shook his head. He adjusted in his seat then wiped his hand over his shirt. “You look just like that nigga, you know that?” My brow went up, and Tulane smirked. “Not Robert, yo ass look like Bradon. Shit, even a little bit of Denzel.”

“Family genes are strong,” I said, shrugging. “Yo daughter looks like you.”

“I heard they act like me too.”

“I only know one,” I told him, shaking my head. “The rest I can't vouch for.”

“Two.” He held up two fingers. “Berkeley and Yale.”

“Yale?” I questioned him, and he nodded. “As in Amethyst's best friend Yale? The one married to-“

“Don’t remind me who she’s married to,” Tulane cut me off. “That shit still pisses me off. I can’t believe I let that shit get past me.” He moved his gun from his lap and set it next to him in the seat. “Nobody can tell me that Robert didn’t have something to do with that shit.”

“I thought you had eyes on her at all times,” Uncle Bradon said. “On all of them.”

“Just like you had eyes on Six?” he replied. Uncle Bradon leaned forward, and Tulane put his gun back on his lap. “Let’s not. This is supposed to be a peaceful meeting.”

“My daughter ain’t a topic you want to discuss,” Uncle Bradon told Tulane. “Not if you want to live much longer.”

“I ain’t ever been scared of you, Bradon, and you know it,” Tulane chuckled. “Not when we young niggas running the streets and not now, which is why you keep me close.” He shrugged, then turned his attention back to me. “Yo daddy-”

“Robert ain’t my daddy, just the nigga who nutted in a woman that carried me for nine months,” I corrected him. “Don’t give him a title he didn’t earn.”

“That wasn’t a grown woman,” Tulane said, shaking his head. “But anyway, Robert has been busy. I have a few men looking for him; he only started showing his face the past few months. I’m going to assume it’s because you finally started showing up with Corinthians.” He leaned back in his seat. “You should’ve known that was going to cause some problems.”