“They’re finally down,” Messiah said as he looked down at the little bodies that occupied his bed. He had never been so exhausted. Putting the twins down for bed had taken hours. He didn’t know how Morgan managed to do it every night. He had only had them for a short time, and they had been more work than he had ever done. Realizing Morgan had been raising them for two years, carrying the burden without him, put guilt on his soul. Maybe she was justified for moving on, for finding a man who could help, because Messiah definitely needed help. He needed Bleu there just for the moral support alone. He and Bleu sat on the edge, afraid to move, afraid to breathe too loudly because waking the twins would be a disaster. “He knows them like a mu’fucka, B,” Messiah said, voice clipping in emotion. He sniffed it away, clearing his throat. “How do I get to know them like that? That type of shit ain’t in me. I’m too cold.” Messiah’s woe weighed down the room as a tear slid down the bridge of his nose. “Shorty killed me, man. She’s killing me with this shit.”
Bleu placed a hand on his back as he leaned forward. It was like she could feel his pain beneath the pads of her fingers. “You don’t have to love them like him, Messiah. You love them like you. You’re their father. No one can know them like you. You don’t have to get to know them, because they are of you. You are them. You already know everything there is to know about them,” Bleu said.
Messiah stood abruptly and walked out of the room, disappearing into the bathroom in the hall. Bleu rose, and her gut flipped as she heard him fighting himself from behind the closed door. He was resisting sobs so badly that her eyes watered, then her tears fell. She covered her mouth with one hand and closed her eyes. He was hurt, and Bleu felt it. She had never judged Morgan, never felt ill will toward her. She thought Mo was a beautiful girl with a spirit so kind that she emitted light, but in this moment, as she witnessed the peeling of Messiah’s soul, Bleu hated her. There was a line that people who loved each other should respect, and Morgan had crossed it by hiding Messiah’s children. Then again, she also acknowledged the fact that Messiah had blurred the lines long ago when he had left town so unremorsefully. Bleu’s heart was cut open for everyone involved. For herself. For Messiah. For Morgan. For Meek. Most importantly, for the children who were caught in the middle. The twins were beautiful and around the same age as the son she’d lost would have been. Just seeing them cut her deeply. Messiah pulled open the door, and the only evidence of his undoing were his red eyes. She looked up at him, and the stare between them was weighted. A broken man stood before her. He surprised her when he reached for her, pulling her into him and then losing his resolve as he bent into her, melting, imploding as he pulled her to the floor.
“Shh.”
Bleu sat, leaning against the wall, and Messiah lay in her lap, on his back as he trained his stare onto the ceiling. She had no idea how much he needed her in this moment.
“I’m fucked up, B,” he admitted.
“Anybody would be, Messiah. It’s a lot,” she answered. “So much has happened, but you’re a father. You’re somebody’s daddy, and they’re sooo cute. Oh my God, they have her whole face and your whole attitude. They’re beautiful.” Bleu laughed.
“They gang like a mu’fucka,” Messiah said, smirking. “Bad little mu’fuckas, man. Just looking at them light-skinned mu’fuckas, you wouldn’t think a nigga had nothing to do with it. Ol’ R&B-singing-looking-ass kids.” He snickered as he shook his head. He could hardly believe they belonged to him. “How they get so mean, yo? They some lil’ thugs.”
Bleu laughed. “And who you think they get that from?” she asked, smiling.
She looked down at him, and they both grew silent.
“My shit tore open, B. Like my shits ain’t even inside my chest no more,” Messiah said.
“I’ll keep it for you,” she said. “Keep it beating, remember?”
Messiah’s hand found hers, and he interlaced his fingers with hers, tattoos locked. Picture complete. He brought her knuckles to his lips, and the kiss awoke Bleu’s entire body. She held her breath as he kissed her hand again, then her wrist. She couldn’t even breathe.
Messiah reached up with one hand and gripped her hair and pulled her face toward his.
Bleu pulled back. “Messiah, no.”
He paused.
“I can’t do this again,” Bleu said. “The only time you want this is when you’re mad at her. I don’t want it like this.”
Messiah’s brow furrowed, and he rolled up, turning to her as he opened wide legs around her. He pulled her thighs, sliding her across the floor, drawing her in. Bleu let him. Moths and flames.
“But you do want it?” Messiah asked. His face revealed shock, as if it were a wonder that she could possibly love him.
“What do you want, Messiah?” Bleu shot back.
He couldn’t answer that. He was a selfish-ass nigga. He wanted it all. What good was cake if you couldn’t eat it? Cake-and-eat-it-too-ass nigga. Messiah was selfish, and Bleu was giving. It was a deadly combination, one where reciprocity would be uneven. In this moment when Morgan had shown him unbelievable deceit, he didn’t care enough to stop himself.
“Don’t matter what I want. I ain’t shit. I can’t afford to break you, B,” he answered.
“You have no idea how good you are. You’re too busy believing the bad,” Bleu whispered.
“That ain’t the only time I want it, B,” he admitted. Bleu’s eyes lifted in shock, and she held her breath.
He leaned into her, trapping her, no running because his hand was behind her neck, bringing her forward. A tear slid down her cheek, and Messiah slid it away with his thumb.
Just as he was about to kiss her …
Boom!
The sound of the front door being kicked in pulled him back.
“Police! Let me see your hands!” A full team in SWAT gear poured into his apartment, forcing them apart. The police swarmed in so swiftly, all Bleu could do was scream as they put knees to her back and forced them onto their stomachs, placing them in cuffs.
“Stop fucking touching her!” Messiah barked.
“Ow!” Bleu screamed. “You’re too heavy! Please stop!”
Messiah was enraged as he fought against the officers. “My kids are in here, man!”
“Who else is here?!” one of them yelled.
“Just my kids, man! They’re two years old!” Messiah barked. “She ain’t got shit to do with this, man! Get the fuck off her!”
Messari came out of the room, and he stood, eyes wide, staring at the chaos as the officers turned to him, guns drawn.
“Get that gun off my son! I’ll fucking murder you, man! Don’t fucking touch my kid!” Messiah shouted.
“Cut her loose and let her get to the boy,” one of the men ordered.
The cop on top of Bleu relieved her of the cuffs, and she quickly rushed to Messari, picking him up and pushing his head over her shoulder. The cops forced Messiah to his feet.
“Where are you taking him?” Bleu demanded as she followed behind them frantically. The rest of the unit was tearing the apartment apart, searching, hunting.
“Get my kids, Bleu!” Messiah shouted.
His voice carried into the night as they walked him to the awaiting squad car and pulled away.
Bella sat in the driveway, shotgun in Henny’s old school.
“My daddy’s going to kill you if he catches you here this late,” Bella said, smiling because she loved the fact that he was willing to take the risk.
“I’m in and out. I just wanted to see you, smart girl, before I called it a night,” Hendrix stated.
Bella smiled and looked out her window, up at her house. “Well, you saw me,” she said as she rolled pretty brown eyes back over to Hendrix.
“You took that test you was telling me about? The ACT and shit?” Hendrix asked.
“It was just a practice test,” Bella answered.
“How you do?” Hendrix asked.
“I did okay,” she said. “It was hella hard, and I was super nervous. I need at least a 23 to get into Clark.”
“You got it,” Henny stated.
“I heard you were around the way with Isa. They said you helped him shoot up a house,” Bella said.
“Man,” Henny said as he rolled his gaze out the side window. “Tell whoever the fuck ‘they’ is to keep my name out they mouth.”
“Did you?” Bella asked.
“I got to put in work when it’s my turn. I’m getting money with the Crew. I can’t bitch up when it’s time to get my hands dirty,” Henny said.
“You promised, Henny,” Bella reminded, voice dipped in sadness. The expectation that Hendrix just may self-destruct broke her heart. Ethic’s daughter had been bitten by the love bug. She had been close friends with Hendrix for two years. She admired his resilience. She respected the things he had survived. Hendrix made her feel as if she were the therapy that eased his traumatized heart. He was her best friend, and they had a plan. He had made promises to stay out of trouble so that when she went away to college, he could leave too. He was deviating from the plan. He was taking risks that would derail things altogether, and Bella’s heart ached. He had a job at Ethic’s shop. She didn’t understand why he was determined to mess that up. “Does my dad know you’re still in the game? You don’t need to do that stuff. He will help you with money and everything.”
“He’s your daddy, Boog, not mine,” Hendrix shot back, calling her by the nickname he had given her. Girls around the way called her bougie. They meant it as an insult, one they could joke about and pretend it was love when really it was a bit of hate laced in the undertone. Henny peeped game and instantly shortened it, calling her Boog, making it cool. The most popular boy on the block, giving her clout because hood niggas wanted bougie girls anyway. It didn’t take long for the name to stick and others to follow suit.
“He gave you a job. I don’t understand why you still want to be out there with the Crew,” Bella stated.
“Ethic look out for me. Keep me in the books, helped me get my GED and all that, showing me about managing money and investing and shit. I got to have something to invest, though, smart girl. Them eighteen dollars an hour on some part-time shit ain’t going to get me nothing close to what your daddy got you used to. I got to make my own way on the block, earn my respect, so when it’s time for the real world your pops teaching me about, I’m ready. I got to make it out the hood first, though, before I can think about the shit Ethic’s teaching me. It ain’t forever, but I got to stack right now. Real paper, not no nine-to-five shit.”
“If something happens to you—”
“Nothing’s gonna happen, Bella. Come on. I didn’t come all the way out here for no speeches.”
“Well, stop doing dumb stuff, and I can stop giving them,” Bella said. Her body language was everything as she leaned closer to the door and crossed her arms across her chest.
“You know I hate when you mad, Boog,” Henny said, smirking. “You get real mean, and your nostrils start flaring.” Henny teased Bella, sticking his finger up her nose. She slapped his hand away.
“Stooop, Hendrix!” she cried out. “You play too much!”
She swatted his hand, and he kept bypassing her protests, aiming for her nose until she fell into laughter. She grabbed his finger tightly. “I’m going to break it.”
“Pretty girl love breaking shit. Hearts and all,” he said. He leaned across the armrest and planted a kiss to her cheek. Bella turned suddenly to give him her lips. He pulled back in surprise, and Bella blushed as she lowered her head.
“You got to stay focused, Hendrix,” Bella said. “You’re more than a dope boy. I wouldn’t love a dope boy like this.”
His eyes widened. He was taken aback by her candor. “I luh you too. More than everybody.”
A true teenage love affair.
She kissed him again, this time on his forehead. “You’re too smart to act stupid. You’re not like those other guys,” she said. “I’ve got to go. Text me when you make it home, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Hendrix said, smiling charmingly as he bit his bottom lip.
Hendrix exited and walked around the hood of the car before opening Bella’s passenger door. She stepped out.
“I’ma make you happy one day, Boog,” Hendrix said.
The stars in Bella’s eyes shone brighter than the ones in the night sky. He wrapped his arms around Bella’s waist as hers fastened around his neck.
“I hate when you have to leave,” she said, resting her head on his chest. “I hate every single second between the time you leave and the time you come back.”
“Quit counting the seconds, Boog. Sometimes I might have to be gone. Sometimes you might have to be gone. We gon’ get back, though. Every time,” Hendrix reassured.
“How do you know?” Bella asked.
“Cuz what we got is real, Boog. Ain’t no faking about it. No matter how much time pass, no matter how far you go with school or traveling the world or whatever. I know I might not always be able to keep up, cuz your shot ain’t gon’ always be my shot, but whenever you slow down, whenever you come back, we gon’ get right back,” Henny promised.
“What if we lose touch one day?” Bella asked.
Henny didn’t answer right away because the idea pained him. “We got to make a promise. If we ever go more than two years without talking, we got to meet on New Year’s Eve.”
“Two years!” Bella protested, yelling as she pulled her head back. “Why would we go two years without speaking, Henny?”
“I’m just saying shit happens,” Henny explained.
“Not to us. I can’t see that,” Bella whispered.
“But if it does, Boog. On New Year’s Eve, we got to meet. On the football field at your high school. That’s my word; I’ma show up for you every year until you feel like showing up too.”
He held up his pinkie, a ritual he had gotten from her, an action she had been taught by her father … a symbol more binding than any contract.
“I pinkie swear,” she said.
“A’ight, let me bounce before yo’ daddy wake up,” Henny said, smirking.
Bella reluctantly let go, and her heart ached as she watched him get in his car. He had never turned his car off. He didn’t want the sound of an engine starting to alert Ethic or Alani of his presence. She waved as she watched him pull around the circular driveway. Bella typed the code to the gate into her phone to let him out. Dismay filled her when she saw the red-and-blue lights pull in front of him and block him in.
“Get out the car! Get out the car now!”
Guns. Bella saw guns and heard the screeching of tires as Hendrix came to a stop.
“Daddy!”
She screamed for Ethic, and before she knew it, her feet were pounding pavement as they carried her down the driveway in Hendrix’s direction.
“Don’t shoot!” Bella screamed as she panted, fear coursing through her body as she ran as fast as she could. “Help! Daddy!”
“Bella!” That was Alani’s voice. Behind her. At the front door. “Ezra!”
Bella couldn’t even take the chance of looking back, terrified of the possibility of looking away only to hear gunshots ring out next. She saw the driver door pop open.
“Show us your hands!” She might as well have been running in slow motion.
“Bella!”
Thank God. Her daddy’s voice. Ethic was behind her. She heard him. He would fix this. He could fix this.
“Wait!” she shouted as she plowed into Hendrix, who stood wide-eyed, fear-filled, as he raised his hands. She wrapped herself around him, holding on tightly. He couldn’t even hug her back because they knew that if his hands disappeared, bullets would fly. They’d have to cut through two bodies because Bella was glued to him. She could feel Hendrix’s entire body shaking.
“Bella!”
She turned, blocking Hendrix’s body with her own. “Don’t shoot!”
Ethic was down the driveway and headed in their direction. Bella counted the men. Ten. There were ten of them. Semiautomatic rifles in their hands. Bodies covered in assault armor, helmets on their heads. Lights shining from the beams of their guns.
“Get down!”
Half of them were aiming at Ethic, the other half at her and Hendrix now.
His hands were up and visible. “That’s my daughter and her friend. They’re minors. This is my property, and they’re unarmed. I’ma need the guns lowered.”
Alani approached, hair wild, silk robe wrapped around her swollen belly as she stepped in front of Ethic.
“You’re going to have to kill four people out here today,” she said, voice trembling as she pulled out her cell phone. “I’m live on Facebook right now. I’m a New York Times bestselling writer with over a million followers, and they’re watching. The Michigan State Police is at my home in SWAT gear with guns pointed at my teenage daughter and her friend and my husband.”
“Put down the phone!” one of the men yelled.
“Put down your guns! It’s not illegal to have a cell phone. I’m recording every single second, so if one bullet flies, I have proof.” Alani looked at her screen. “A thousand witnesses and growing. Nobody is armed here but all of you! Y’all see this shit? This abuse of power? This invasion on our personal property!” Alani shouted. She was so terrified; she couldn’t steady her tone.
Ethic pushed her behind him. Tension cut through the chill in the air.
“Lower those guns off my goddamned daughter!” Alani screamed.
“We’re just here for Ezra Okafor.”
“That’s me. Whatever this is about, it doesn’t involve them. They’re kids. It’s in everybody’s best interest if you and your men put those guns away. It doesn’t take ten officers and riot gear to approach me. The longer this lasts, the worse it’s going to be in the end, remember that,” Ethic stated.
The lead officer approached him and apprehended one wrist and then twisted it behind Ethic’s back before handcuffing the other.
“No! Wait!” Alani shouted.
“Go in the house, baby. Get them inside. Don’t worry. I’ma be home soon. It’s nothing for you to worry about, I promise. Get everybody in the house,” Ethic instructed. He was calm. Unbothered. He kissed her lips as Bella cried as she watched the police walk Ethic to the back of a police car.
“You got some ID?” an officer asked.
“No! Get off my property. He’s a kid! He doesn’t have to give you anything. You have no cause to ask him for anything!” Alani shouted as she shifted her focus to Hendrix and Bella. She aimed the camera at his shield. “This is harassment—Officer Bennett, is it?”
The officer snatched the phone. “I said put the phone down!” he yelled.
“Aye, man!” Hendrix protested as he and Bella watched the officer rough Alani up a bit. “Get your fucking hands off her, man! She’s pregnant! You ain’t got to handle her like that!”
Another officer accosted Hendrix, gripping him by his collar and then slamming him hard onto the hood of his car.
Hendrix grimaced as the hand to the side of his face pressed him harder into the steel frame. His legs were kicked open.
“You got anything on you that can injure my officers, boy?” the cop asked.
Hendrix didn’t respond. He just locked in on Bella, who was standing just yards away. He saw her lips moving, but he couldn’t hear her. He was trying to prepare himself for what would happen next.
“What do we have here?” the officer asked, finding Hendrix’s pistol. “Felony possession of a firearm and a controlled substance.”
Bella looked on in horror as Hendrix was placed in handcuffs. He heard her protests as Bella’s face dipped in panic. She was crying, and he had to close his eyes because he hated it. He detested the sight of her tears.
Bella ran into Alani’s arms, sobbing as the police took her father and Hendrix away. “What’s going to happen to them?!” she asked frantically.
“I don’t know,” Alani answered. She feared the worst. She knew Ethic’s pedigree. She knew there were no small crimes with him, and she prayed that he wasn’t harboring secrets that were now threatening to ruin them.