Page 61 of 4 Corinthians

I cut my eyes to him and shook my head. “What the hell are you going to do?” I asked him, laughing. “Numbers like this ain’t your speed.”

“I was just offering,” he replied, looking around. “You heard from Trey?”

“Nah,” I answered, shaking my head. I hated keeping him out of the loop, but I understood why they insisted on it. “You heard from Eight?”

“Nah,” he replied. “He was on some fuck shit talking about you took it too far with that shit. I don’t know. I told that nigga I was staying out of it. What you and your brother was doing was y’all business. I got other shit to figure out.”

I nodded. “What are we doing back here?” I asked, looking around at the crowd.

“Marus asked us to stop by to see this fighter,” he answered. We headed towards the ring where a fight was taking place. “I told him I didn’t have time for this shit, but he said I would be interested.”

“Business or personal?”

“For Marus, it's all the same,” he replied. We moved through the crowd, and we both stopped short at what we saw, but for different reasons. We were looking at the same person, though. “What the fuck?” A woman was standing in the middle of the ring, squaring up with another woman, and nigga twice her size stood outside the ring, yelling. “Where the fuck is Citrine?”

“I don’t know,” I said, looking around. I spotted him coming through the crowd with a mug on his face. I hit Nine’s arm to get his attention. “Right there!” I pointed to Citrine.

“What the fuck is this shit?” Nine asked him when Citrine was close enough. He pointed to the ring but not at the women. His eyes were locked on the nigga outside yelling. He was too aggressive and over the top with what was going on. Citrine allowed women to fight just like men. But this nigga was doing too much.

“Not my shit,” Citrine answered, shaking his head. “This is some shit Marus put on. Changed the names at the last minute, and I just got here. I left my phone at home and had to go back and get it. I had thirty missed calls by the time I got it, and when I called Yeti back, I found out about this. We both got here as soon as we could.” He ran his tongue over his teeth. “He knows Maria’s manager was barred from standing ringside. He gets too involved.”

“Kill her, Maria!” the manager yelled. “Kill that bitch so we can get paid!” He climbed onto the ring, pulled the ropes apart, and stepped inside. “Kill that bitch!”

“Fuck this shit,” Nine said, walking away. He climbed into the ring, snatched the woman off Maria, pulled his gun from the back of his pants, and shot the manager. The crowd was instantly silent. Nine didn’t give a fuck. He dragged one of the women from the ring and towards Citrine. “Take her name off every fucking fight.”

“You can’t just-“

“Tell him your damn name,” Nine said, cutting her off. She looked at Nine, matching his glare with her own. “Tell him your fucking name.” When she didn’t say anything, Nine laughed and nodded. “Mama, let me tell you something. You either tell him your name, or I will find out everything there is to know about you the hard way. When I do, there won't be one person connected to you who’s safe from my wrath. Now do what the fuck I said and tell him your damn name.”

She licked her lips, then looked away. Nine used his free hand to turn her face back to his and lift his brow. “Cross DeCorte,” she finally said.

Nine nodded then turned to Citrine. “Take her name off every list,” he said. “And if a nigga has a problem with what I just did, let them know I can and will find them.”

“Alright,” Citrine said, nodding.

Nine turned to me. “I’ll holla at you later,” he said. Cross looked between us, her brown eyes narrowed when she met my gaze, and for a second, I thought she would recognize me, but she didn’t say anything. “Let’s go.” Nine interlaced their fingers, and they walked out of the room.

“I knew her name,” Citrine chuckled and shook his head as we watched them walk away. He looked over at me, dapped me up, then wiped his hand over his hair. “Let me get the clean-up crew out here. You good?”

“Yeah,” I answered with a nod. “I’m good.”

We dapped each other up and parted ways. I walked out of the building and to my car when my phone rang. I answered it as I started my car.

“Hello?”

“I miss you.”

“You don’t know me to miss me,” I said, shaking my head as I pulled out of my parking spot.

“I do.”

“You don’t; you just want dick,” I replied. She laughed softly, and I knew that shit was true.

“Okay, so I miss your dick,” she said.

“You ain’t ever had it,” I replied.

“I want to,” she countered. “Stop by and have a drink with me.”