Page 60 of 4 Corinthians

Madea looked at the coffee table he was sitting on, then shyly smiled. Krude looked down at the table, then back at her. “Mary DeCorte, you were lying low and spreading it wide on the damn living room table?” He jumped up again. “How many times have I sat there?”

“When I walked in on them, they were on the dining room table,” Judge told him.

“Living room wall,” Mercy said.

“Front steps,” Psalms said.

“Car in the garage,” I told them.

Krude put his hands on his head and started walking in circles. He was visibly distraught, and all I could do was laugh.

“Having a healthy sex life at their age is normal and actually a good thing,” Judge pointed out. “It’s a scientific fact.”

“Harlot, no one asked you about shit,” Krude mumbled. “You over there talking about scientific facts and shit. Nigga you look at people’s eyes all day! Shut up talking to me.”

“Oh, Krude, don’t be upset that he’s telling the truth,” Madea said, waving him off. “Your granddaddy and I get some of that weed from Psalms that helps relax us, and the next thing we know we are on each other.”

“Oh, so this is the Drug Dealers fault?” Krude asked, looking at Psalms. “I know someone who works for the DEA.”

“I don’t sell it to them,” Psalms said, laughing.

“So you're saying they steal it?” Krude questioned her.

“No,” Psalms denied, shaking her head. “I give it to them for free.” She reached into her pocket, pulled out a bag, and tossed it to Madea. Krude caught it instead of Madea. “Every time I stop by, I give them a new strain.”

Krude looked at the small bag. “You over here experimenting on my grandparents?” he dramatically asked. “Girl, they are not your test subjects.”

“We’ve been her test subjects since she was fifteen years old,” Madea said, standing. She snatched her bag from Krude and pushed him out of her way.

“Fifteen?” He put his hands on his hips. “Madea, what kind of shit were you allowing in your house?”

“You lived in here, you know,” she said, walking into the kitchen. “Now shut up talking to me. I gotta finish cleaning before yo granddaddy get here; if it’s not, he’s gonna punish me.” She came back out of the kitchen with a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye. “But now that I think about it, I might like it. Fuck them dishes.” She walked out of the living room and headed to her bedroom.

“I’m calling DFS,” Krude said, watching her walk down the hallway. “She’s going to jail.”

The doorbell rang, and Exodus stood. “I’ll get it,” he announced, then walked past Krude. “I told Wednesday to meet me here.”

Krude claimed Exodus's seat, grabbed the remote from the table, and turned on the TV. “It’s a party at Swope this weekend,” Krude said as he flipped through the channels. “I’m thinking about sliding through it if anyone wants to go with me.”

“We don’t,” Judge replied.

Exodus walked back into the living room with who I assumed was Wednesday. He did a quick introduction, and when Wednesday's eyes landed on Psalms, he stopped.

“That’s the cousin I was telling you about, the botanist,” Exodus said, pointing to Psalms. “She can have flowers in all your restaurants and shit.”

“Hi, how are you doing?” Wednesday said. His eyes were locked on Psalms. The look of interest in his eyes was obvious. I looked over at Psalms to see that she was withdrawing into herself. Psalms wasn’t overly fond of male attention, which is why I was surprised when she told me she was seeing Joshua. To everyone else, she looked normal, almost bored, and she turned her head, but I knew my sister and realized that she was nervous or downright scared. “I know it's probably the last thing you wanted to do with your off time, but I was telling Ex about my problem, and he mentioned that you own your nursery. If you’re open to it, I would love to talk about a possible business venture.” He took his card from his pocket and handed it to her. “Give me a call when you get a chance.” Psalms nodded and took his card. He stepped back, licked his lips, and continued to watch Psalms closely. He pulled the collar of his shirt, then cleared his throat. “Have a good one.” Wednesday spoke to everyone again, then Exodus walked him to the door.

“Drug Dealer, you gotta work on your people skills,” Krude said, shaking his head. “That nigga was two seconds from getting on his knees to beg you to look at him.” He kissed his teeth.

Four

It’d been three days since my fight with Kenbral. I hated fighting him, hearing his bones break as I snapped his wrist and broke a few of his ribs. But I also got the best rush from it. When I stepped into the ring, Kenbral was no longer my brother, just a man who needed his ass beat, and I was the one to do it. After it was over, we went back to the locker room, and that was the last time I saw him. We weren’t supposed to reach out, in case Robert was watching. Everything had to look legit.

“You look like death is knocking on your door,” Nine said, walking up to me. We dapped each other up, then separated. “You good?”

“Just tired,” I told him as I wiped my hand over my mouth. “My new client is on my ass about numbers and shit.”

“You need some help?”