Page 67 of 4 Corinthians

“Pet,” Robert said. The sound of his voice made my stomach twist. “I won’t keep you. I just wanted you to know how proud of you I am.” I continued holding the phone as I watched Tyrell. Images of him walking into the house, talking to Robert, and laughing flashed through my mind. That’s why his face seemed so familiar. He was one of the men that came into the house! I swallowed the vomit I felt trying to come up. “Remember I’m never too far. I love you.” The phone beeped, indicating he hung up, and I lowered it from my face.

“I’ll see you around, Cori,” Tyrell laughed as he walked backward—another person to remind me that I would never get away.

Four

“Six and One are having girl time again,” Nine announced as he walked into my apartment. He barely looked in my direction as he went into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, then slammed the door. “I called to talk business, and One hung up in my damn face.”

“One always hangs up on you,” I reminded him. I didn’t stop doing my workout because he was here. Nine came and went like this was his apartment. “Why are you surprised?”

“I’m not,” he chuckled.

“Then why are you complaining?”

“Complaining?” his face twisted in confusion. “Who said I was complaining? I was just telling you what was happening with your cousins.”

“Why are they always mine when one of them is ignoring you?” I did a few more push-ups then stood.

“Because I’m bored,” he answered.

I wiped my face with my towel. “Cross must be out of town again,” I said, and he nodded. They’d been dating for months, and I still hadn’t told Nine my connection with Cross. It sounded like survivor’s guilt to me.

“Yeah, her cousin is pregnant-“

“Which cousin?” I cut him off and asked.

“Corinthians,” he answered, then downed half his water.

My heart slammed against my chest, and my watch started to beep. I didn’t even give a fuck. Corinthians was pregnant? By who? Who was she dating? None of the reports I got back on her said she was dating or anything. They all said the same thing: her business was thriving, and she spent too much time there. She bought a new house a few weeks ago, and I’d sent flowers anonymously through Psalms’ shop.

“Yo, Four!” Nine grabbed my shoulders and shook me. “Nigga what the fuck is going on with you?” he looked me over, then pushed me to sit on the couch. “Breathe, nigga, so this fucking alarm will stop going off.” He slapped my chest. “Fucking breathe nigga!” I took a deep breath then coughed. “There you go. Here, drink this.” He handed me a new bottle of water. I opened it and drank some. “There you go. Now what the fuck was that?”

“I don’t know,” I lied. “My shit just stopped for a second.”

“I see,” he said, nodding. “That ever happened before?”

I shook my head, then drank some more water. “Nah,” I finally said. “Never.”

“You sure?” he lifted his brow. “When’s the last time you been checked out?”

“I did a physical last week,” I told him and tried to get up, but he pushed me back down. “I’m good.”

“Nah man stay sitting down,” he said. He went to the dining room, got the extra laptop he kept here, and came back with it.

I watched as he sat down, opened it, and after it was up and running, the bracelet on my wrist started flashing colors. “What are you doing?”

“Checking your stats,” he answered.

“I said I’m good,” I told him.

“You say that shit, but that don’t mean it’s true,” he replied. “That’s the reason I designed that damn thing for you and Unc. Y’all niggas be lying and don’t even realize it.” He was wrong; I knew when I was lying. I didn’t want to hear his mouth about it.

“Man, whatever,” I chuckled, then drank the last of my water. I stood, and Nine looked up at me and glared. “I’m throwing the bottle in the recycle.” I held it up. He was big on recycling and preaching about saving the earth like he didn’t run a damn tech company.

“After you do that, come back and sit down.” He went back to typing into the laptop, and I went into the kitchen. My mind was racing. I needed to see Corinthians, the nigga that she loved enough to carry his child. He had to be the best nigga alive because no other nigga would do.

“How long Cross been gone?” I asked him as I walked back into the living room and sat on the couch. I got updates on Corinthians by asking about Cross. We’d been around each other a few times, and most of the time she was quiet. She reminded me of Cori. Not in appearance, even though they did look alike; it was more how she acted. She wasn’t shy, but she was quiet, always watching, waiting for something to happen.

“She left this morning,” he answered. “She said she would be back Monday. This is a quick trip. Just going to see her people, go to church and come back.”