Page 109 of 4 Corinthians

“What the fuck does a little unorthodox mean?” I asked.

“You’ll see,” he chuckled. He reached into his drawer, pulled out a card, and held it up. “She’s expecting your call.”

Sighing, I stood, walked across the room, and took the card from him.

“Berkeley Forrester.” I read the name on the card, then looked at Uncle Bradon. “Why does that last name sound familiar?"

“Her daddy is Tulane Forrester,” he replied. Immediately, I remembered his name from a meeting I went to as a kid with Robert. “And no, before you ask, he ain’t what you think.”

***

Two days later, I was sitting in my office, staring at the computer, trying to figure out whether Uncle Bradon hated me or not. There was no fucking way this woman was licensed to do anything but drive a car. Even that was questionable at this point.

“So Four, tell me about yourself,” Berkeley said as she stared at the computer. Her dark eyes sparkled with excitement as she swayed.

“Like what?”

“What do you do for a living, how long have you done it, how many people you’ve killed.” She shrugged. “You know, the basics.” My brow went up, and she laughed. “Look, I know your uncle, I know how this shit goes. Truthfully, I’m a little surprised it’s taken you this long to reach out.”

“Why?”

“Are we going to play dumb?” she asked and rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine, let’s do this because I don’t like my time wasted, and while this is your money, it's still my time.” She readjusted in her seat, and all the joking and smiles disappeared. “Why are you talking to me, Four? And please don’t say because your uncle gave you my card because you didn’t have to call.”

I turned my attention to the window and stared out of it. I wasn’t going to lie to Berkeley; there was no reason to. “I want to get better.”

“For?” she inquired.

“Cori,” I answered. “And Judah.” I laughed and wiped my hand over my mouth.

“And what about you?” she questioned.

“If they are good, then I’m good,” I told her. “They are all that matters.”

“Tell me why, because from what I know, you’ve only known Corinthians for a few weeks and Judah a few months. What makes them so important that you want to change?”

I sat back in my seat and took a deep breath. “I’ve known Corinthians since we were kids,” I finally said. “When everything was chaotic and crazy as fuck, she was there. I remember when I first saw her, first heard her voice, saw her smile, and saw her cry.” I looked at the computer to see Berkeley watching me. “I want to make her happy. Be her peace, protector—a father to Judah. I want to love them in ways that can't be explained but seen when we are around. And to do that, I need to be here, talking to you, getting better. Because they deserve the best of me.”

“And they’ll get it,” she said, nodding. “Now, let’s get to work.”

***

“Four!” Judah ran to me, a smile on his face. His hair was braided, and he wore his karategi. I knelt, and he jumped into my arms and wrapped me in a hug I didn’t know I needed until now. I missed the fuck out of him, and the thought hit me like a ton of bricks. Yeah, I missed Corinthians. I saw her every day for nearly three weeks before everything went down, and because I saw her, I saw Judah. We had at least one meal together each week. This feeling was what I explained to Berkeley; they felt like home. “What are you doing here?”

“To see you,” I told him as I let him go. “That okay?”

“Yeah!” he nodded, then stepped back. “Come on in! Cross is here until mama gets home.”

“Nah, man, let’s sit outside.” I pointed to the steps. It was a nice day, and even though Cross knew I was here, I wasn’t stepping foot into Corinthians’ house until she invited me in. Judah sat down, and I joined him. “How was karate?”

“Bad,” he answered, shaking his head. “I keep losing. Every time, no matter how hard I try.”

“Why?”

“Because GiGi is better than me!” he fussed. He crossed his arms and sighed. “You don’t know what it’s like because you’re so big.”

“I wasn’t always big,” I chuckled. Cars drove down the street. I hadn’t heard from Trey this week, which meant more than likely Robert had him on a short leash. “Tell me about GiGi. Why can’t you beat him?”

“GiGi isn’t a him,” Judah said, shaking his head. “GiGi is a girl; her name is Glory.” His face twisted, and I nodded. “Mama said I can't hit girls, so when we have to spar, I don’t fight back.” He looked up at me. “I can’t fight back.”