Page 149 of Rather: The Therapist

“I can work four pots at a time.” I patted Killian’s chest, reminding him of the times. “Bitch Imma robot.”

“The only thing keeps crossing my mind–”

We said in unison, “I hope the doe locked.”

I skipped the next line to finish my piece with, “Twenty seasons straight no stain. Let’s call it fate.”

I let them take the rest and settled for watching them rally around the life we’d built for ourselves with the foundation our father laid for us as children.

My brothers. They were a beautiful sight. I’d lay my life on the line for them. Any day. Any time. Any place.

The night continued without flaw. Long before the DJ was scheduled to stop spinning hits, we pushed our way through the back door. Kofi was unable to stand. One of his arms was draped over Killian and the other dangled over my shoulder.

“I love y’all. I swear,” he slurred.

“Yeah,” Killian replied, knowing he wouldn’t shut up if no one did.

“Nah. Nah. For real. I know a nigga be fucking up. I know. But, Ima get my shit together. Y’all set me up with one of the baddest motherfuckers in all of Clarke. I’ve been a bitch about it, but I get it. I understand. I do. I promise.”

He was rambling, but I was listening. It was this very moment I’d been waiting for all along.

“I’m ready, though. Ima buy us a fat ass crib. Have a few kids. Sit my ass down. I can’t keep up with all the women I’m fucking, their birthdays, Valentine's Day, Christmas… It’s a shit show, man. Every fucking year. I’m trying to remember one birthday from this point on. Celebrate Valentine’s Day with one woman. Celebrate Christmas with one woman. Stick my dick in one woman. Well, after I stick my dick in the two I have lined up for tonight.”

We all joined in laughter.

“I’m taking the week to sober up and get my head in the game. Pops won’t ever talk to my black ass if I fuck this up. Moms won’t forgive me if I destroy her dream wedding. Kleigh– I can kiss my favorite person in the world goodbye if I don’t come through. I can’t disappoint them.”

Kofi’s sober thoughts were the new source of entertainment.

“Plus, that fucking maniac of a brother she has will likely kill me if I play his sister.”

“It’ll be war.”

“Have you not heard of The Huntress nigga? We won’t stand a chance. She’ll take us all out before we can blink. And, if she can’t get the job done, it’s seven other motherfuckers that can. I guarantee you the little baby that Fed pushed out is in training right now. I’ll bet my last she knows how to shoot a pistol right now.”

“She’s a baby,” I reminded him.

“I don’t give a fuck. Bet me,” he challenged.

“I’m not betting you, Kofi. You’re right.”

I wasn’t in the mood to dispute his claims.

“I don’t trust the women you’re contemplating taking to the penthouse that I knew nothing about.”

“It’s cool. They’re cool. I promise. Hailey gone make sure I’m straight.”

“I’m going to take the second bedroom in the suite, Boss,” Silk hollered over his shoulder.

“Appreciate it.”

“You know I’ve got his front and his back. He’s alright. I can bet you that.”

Silk wasn’t lying. He had saved Kofi from destruction so many times I’d lost count. Tonight was more of the same. With him in the same suite as Kofi, he’d be looked after and cared for as if one of us was near.

We climbed back into the SUVs we’d come in with the same drivers at the wheels. This time, there was a woman sandwiched between Killian and I. Though he was the more responsible of the sibling pair, he wasn’t above my concern.

“Killian.”

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