“You haven’t been to therapy in a month?” Krude asked, and I nodded again. “Why not?”
“Life.” I moved his hand from the stop button, and the elevator started moving.
“Life?”
“Life.” I nodded.
“What exactly does life mean?” Judge cautiously asked me. I hated that he had that look of fear in his eyes. I knew what he was thinking, where his mind went, back to a time when I was so out of it that it took all of them to bring me back. I promised them that if it ever got that bad, I would tell them, and I meant it. I wasn’t there, at least, not yet.
“It means shit happened and I canceled a few appointments to make sure I was where I needed to be and when,” I answered with a shrug. “I’m good though.” Judge’s eyes narrowed like he didn’t believe me, and I know there was a part of him that probably didn’t. My history proved otherwise, but in this instance, he would have to take my word for it. They all would because I wasn’t stopping.
“On a scale of 1-10, where are you?” he asked.
I paused briefly to think about the answer. I knew, just like they did, that if it was too low, they’d take turns sleeping on my couch for the next month. “I’m probably at a 4,” I answered. Anything below that or above a six would have them side-eyeing me.
“You have 48 hours to get back in therapy,” Judge said, and I nodded.
The elevator doors opened, and we stepped off. There were people everywhere, working, so no one noticed us, and I wasokay with that. Actually, I preferred it that way because when questions were asked later, no one would remember us being there.
“Hello,” Cross greeted the receptionist with a smile. Her dark eyes sparkled with excitement behind her round glasses. People consistently underestimated her because of her short stature and big, bright eyes. They thought she was cute in that innocent kind of way. They were wrong. She was off, not a lunatic but definitely a little unhinged. “We’re a little lost.”
“Oh, what can I help you with?” the receptionist asked. Even though she was speaking with Cross, her attention was on Judge. Miss Ma’am was basically eye fucking him, but Judge never batted an eye in her direction. He wasn’t interested, and even if he weren’t with Sasha, he still wouldn’t have looked at her. She wasn’t his type.
“We have a meeting with…” Cross took her phone from her purse and pretended to scroll through it, searching. She knew who we were meeting with; she was stalling for time. She bit her bottom lip, sighed, and shook her head. “Umm, wait, here it is. We have a meeting with Joshua Franklin.”
I blinked and held my breath, trying to calm my heart as it beat against my chest. I hated that name. Hated the man it was connected to and hated that we were here. Everyone else thought we were going to meet the Strongs but we weren’t. I refused to walk into a death trap and believe that everything would end in peace. It wouldn’t, hell, it couldn’t because the person that I needed beside me to do that was in the hospital. I trusted my family, hell, I loved them, but I wasn’t crazy enough to think we could handle the Strongs by ourselves. It didn’t matter that Cross was married to one; it didn’t matter that we were friends with the others. None of that would matter because, without Uri, no plan would work. Why? Because nobody hatedthe Strongs more than Uri, and we needed that kind of hatred for any plan to work.
“Oh yes. You’re right on time. The meeting just started a few moments ago.” The receptionist stood and rounded her desk. “Please follow me.” She led us through a maze of hallways until we reached the last door on the left. She knocked twice, turned the handle, then stepped aside. I could hear Joshua’s voice leading the conversation. The hair on the back of my neck stood, and my palms started to get sweaty.
My cousins walked in ahead of me. Psalms waited, her brow went up, and I nodded. I was okay, this was okay. My concern was for her. I knew how she felt about the Franklins. I knew the hatred she felt for them because I’d witnessed the heartbreak. They’d purposely destroyed the small pieces of her heart that she’d given them as revenge. And because they’d done that, I helped her kill four of them.
“I love you, bug,” I whispered, and she nodded. “And I’m sorry.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” she denied, but we both knew that was a lie. It was my fault. All of this was on me because I didn’t do what I was trained to do. I couldn’t do it. Not then and definitely not now. “You were a kid.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice, then squared my shoulders. The conversation was over. Psalms turned and walked into the room, and I followed behind her.
“What is the meaning of this?” Joshua yelled, and I rolled my eyes. He was going to be dramatic. “This is a private meeting.”
“We know,” I said, nodding. My cousins and sister stepped to the side, and I watched as Joshua’s eyes narrowed as he glared at me. He wasn’t happy to see me, but that was good, because the feeling was mutual. “Which is why we are here.”
“Corinthians?” He said my name as if it would magically make me disappear. “What are you doing here?”
“What was our agreement, Joshua?” I asked him as I moved through the room. I looked at them all, giving them only stopping at the woman seated in the middle of the table. Brown skin, wavy micro locs that were pulled into a high ponytail, full lips and one gray one blue eye. She was the first person I’d ever met with Heterochromia. The retired chess champion turned school teacher was nothing that people thought she was which worked in my favor.
“Excuse me?” He dared to look at us as if we were below him. I hated people who were born into money and had a superiority complex.
“What was our agreement?” I repeated as I took a seat on the opposite end of the table. He paused as if he was thinking before he glanced around the room. There were six of us, each a little bit crazier than the other, all down for the cause. I tapped the table with my index finger and shook my head. “Joshua? What was our agreement?”
He returned his glare to me and shook his head, “I lived up to my end of things.”
“No, you didn’t,” I denied as I leaned back. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Exodus's rosary slowly lowered from his hand. His patience had run thin that fast.
“I did,” he replied. His hard glare went to Psalms, and he licked his lips. “I stayed away from her. I made sure no one touched her. Approached her. Nobody did.”
“What else did we agree to?” I asked him. My brow went up when he hesitated, and I sighed. “Joshua, the last time you and I were in the same room, I let her touch everyone in there. I watched her paint canvases with your family’s blood, and as a parting gift, I had them hung in your office.” I pointed to the painting on the wall. “Did you forget our parting words?”
“No,” he answered as he stared at the painting. I knew he had no idea who they were from, but seeing one hanging on the wall made me smile. He was an idiot.
