Page 206 of 4 Corinthians

Isat watching Uri, annoyed and worried. He still hadn't woken up. His doctors said it was normal, that he'd sustained serious damage and his body needed to rest. It sounded good in theory. But my brain and heart were telling me something different. Selfishly, I needed Uri to open his eyes. I needed to know he was okay.

"We all have secrets," Krude said. I turned to look at him. His eyes were closed, head resting against the wall, a small smirk on his face. "I used to always think that if I kept people laughing, they wouldn't see how scared I was." He turned his head and opened his eyes. "You carried your fear right on your shoulders. We thought we had to protect you."

"I thought the same."

"Shit’s fucked up," he laughed softly. "And I’m sorry."

"For?"

Krude looked at Uri and shook his head. "What you gonna do until that nigga wakes up? You can’t just sit here. You ain't sleeping, barely eating, and everybody is worried."

"Is that why you're here? To watch me and then go back and check in."

"Nah," he answered with a smile. "I'm here so you can tell me how much you want to show out." He sat up. "I've been waiting for you to have a reason to let that freak flag fly, and this shit seems like the perfect time."

"You've seen me kill before."

"I have, but we both know this time is different." He shrugged. "You have two options. Let this shit eat you alive, wait for Four to wake up and then let him kill everybody, or you do it."

"It's not that simple," I sighed.

"What makes it complicated?"

I didn't know how to explain to Krude that there was a part of me that enjoyed killing. That what Robert had conditioned into me lived right under my skin, waiting to come out, and I was scared that if I did start, I wouldn't be able to stop. There was a euphoria that came with killing that I loved. It was like I was getting high without taking a hit of anything.

"Me," I laughed and shook my head. "I make it complicated."

Krude nodded, then turned his attention to Uri. Quiet Krude was dangerous; it meant his mind was racing. He was thinking, plotting his next move.

"A few years ago, he and I were kicking it at Madea and Granddaddy's house and not doing shit, just hanging. It was one of the few times he'd come to visit before moving here. Anyway, it was supposed to be his first time in the house, but he moved around that muthafucka like he knew the layout. He paced in the same spots you did. He sat in all your favorite spots: the same chair in the corner of the living room, the same chair in the kitchen, and outside on the patio. Every time the door opened, he looked at it, like he was hoping for someone to come through, and when it wasn't who he wanted, he relaxed." He smirked. "I told Psalms he reminded me of you."

"And what did she say?"

"She agreed. Said in another lifetime, where shit wasn't fucked up, that y'all loved each other beyond this one." He wiped his hand over his mouth. "I thought she was high. You know Psalms got the best weed and finally sampled her own product."

"She won't," I laughed.

"I know, but shit, I didn't know what she meant," he replied. "Until I saw y'all together. The love you two have is different. It's patient, unyielding, and all those descriptive ass words that people use. It's all that shit, and it's dangerous. You ain't gonna know peace until the muthafucka that's causing y'all problems is dead." He looked at me. "So, what you gonna do? Sit back and let him do all the work or let that freak flag fly and be that nigga twin flame?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Oh nah, I only asked to see your response." He stood and wiped lint from his shirt. "I wanted to see if you were still scared of everyone actually seeing you or if that nigga is really your twin flame and shit.”

"Krude..."

"Cross got a new axe, Psalms is out of her garden." He smiled. "Ex has some verses he hasn't used, I got a new fanny pack just for the occasion, and Judge changed his glasses. It's a family event."

“It’s a family event?” I asked slowly, and Krude nodded. “Are you sure about this?”

“Fuck yeah,” he laughed. “I heard you cussed out Tulane and Micah.”

“I did.”

“Do you regret it?” he asked, and I shook my head. “Then, hell yeah. This is about to be a family event.” He put his hands in his pockets. “I’m going to let you get some rest. Don’t worry about Judah; he’s with me tonight.”

“Don’t be hustling my baby,” I told him.

“I’m not,” he laughed. “We hustlin’ niggas. He’s using your account because your kills are low as fuck and folks think he’s an easy target. He’s making bank right now.”