Page 77 of City of Gods

“Yeah, well, hindsight is 20/20, isn’t it?” I propped my hands on my hips and said, “Look, I’m tired and I want to go to sleep. Let’s put this shit on pause and I’ll let you two know what my next move is if I think you can help. Other than that, just expect that I’ll reach out when everything is done.”

“You sure you don’t want our help on this?” Zee frowned at me.

“I’m sure. I’ll get it done faster if I work with Bakari. We seem to be on the same page.”

“And your brothers are okay with you plotting a kill?” Eli asked Bakari, his brows bunching together and his dark eyes scrutinizing.

“They’re fine with it. But in the future, just know that I don’t have to have my brothers’ permission to do anything. I’m a grown-ass man.”

Eli’s nostrils flared at Bakari’s words but he didn’t say anything smart back. Instead, he walked over and wrapped his arms around me in a gentle hug.

“I know you don’t think so, but I do love you, sis.”

“I think all of us need to reevaluate what love means in this family.” I rubbed his back and he stood to his full height, nodding.

“Yeah, I guess a family therapy session wouldn’t be a bad idea.” Eli’s mouth tipped up in a half-smile.

“No therapist in their right mind would listen to a bunch of killers trying to sort through their trauma,” Zee chuckled, standing to hug me as well.

“I have a cousin who’s a psychologist who would be happy to listen,” Bakari offered with a charming smile.

“Of course you do,” Zee scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Y'all Godwins are just everywhere in the medical profession. You’re like weeds.”

“Call it what you want but we run shit.” He shrugged his broad shoulders, then walked with me to the front door. I said my goodbyes and then closed the door behind my brother and sister, feeling like I could fall right the hell over.

Bakari pulled me in for a hug, then kissed the top of my head like he could hear my weary soul. “You want me to stay or go?” he asked, his lips nestled in my hair.

“Stay.” I turned to face him, popping on my tiptoes to kiss his lips.

Seventeen

Ididn’t remember much about Rob’s funeral. Only the wails that left Mrs. Pierre’s mouth and the crushing feeling in my chest when I saw him in the fucking casket. Because of how he died, the funeral home only kept the casket open for the family during the wake. They allowed us to place things inside with him.

His mother placed an old picture of herself holding him when he was first born. Maasai and Hakim each placed long-stemmed roses. Other family members placed notes and other small things that meant a lot to them. When it was my turn, I walked up with trembling hands and burning eyes. I placed a box of his favorite Cuban cigars inside and touched my forehead to his even though we weren’t supposed to touch the body.

“You were right about Sanai, Rob.” I sniffed and squeezed my eyes shut. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you that night so I could have told you in person…but I know you’re up there somewhere saying I told you so, nigga.” I tried to smile but it wobbled then fell away under the weight of my tears.

Everything else about the service was a blur. Maybe it was better that way.

When we arrived at Marcus Jackson’s for the repast, Lyric greeted us with a warm, compassionate smile. When she saw Sanai at my side, her eyes lit up with recognition. “Sanai Sinclair?” she asked, holding her arms out. Sanai paused, blinked, and then recognition swept across her face as well. I watched the two women hug as Hakim approached, pushing out an exasperated breath.

“Oh my god, girl! I haven’t seen you since we graduated. How are you?” Sanai asked, going in for one more hug. Lyric squeezed her tight while Hakim’s creep-ass stared like our parents didn’t teach us better. I elbowed him in the ribs and he coughed dramatically.

“Not to uh, break up y'all lil reunion but can we go inside? I’m hungry as a motherfucker.”

“You’re what, Hakim?” My mother walked up behind him, arms folded and a glare on her beautiful face. She’d come into town for the funeral and I was more than grateful. I had no idea how much I needed her.

“I’m…hungry,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, so you have manners in front of your mother, huh?” Lyric smacked, rolling her eyes at him then offering my mother a big smile.

“How did you know she was my mother?” Hakim asked, tipping his chin upward.

“Because you look just like her and because I do my research.” Lyric stepped around Hakim and shook Mom’s hand. “Mrs. Godwin, you can head inside.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Mom said, beaming. “You are so gorgeous. I know you’re not the owner of this place. You should be somewhere modeling.”

“No, I’m not. I’m the sous chef. Marcus couldn’t be here to cook so he left me in charge.”

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