2

Morgan stood in front of the full-length mirror. Her chest filled with so many things. Pride. Sadness. Disbelief.

“I did it.”

“You did it, Mo,” Ethic confirmed. His voice came from the doorway, and she lifted her eyes, meeting his gaze through the reflection. He was so proud. She could feel it. She wondered if he would be proud if he knew that Bash’s family had helped accelerate her way through college. If he knew they had changed her grades, cheated for her on exams, elevated her GPA. He leaned against the frame and she turned to him, the long hunter-green gown hanging so long it touched the floor. Graduation. She had made it to commencement. It felt like a hard-earned win.

Ethic was silent, and he bit into his bottom lip, then pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You look so much like her.” His voice held nostalgia, and Morgan’s heart dipped. “But you’re not like her, Mo. You made it. It was important to me that you make it.”

She nodded. “I did, didn’t I?” she asked. There were so many times she thought she wouldn’t. So many obstacles had stood between her and the finish line, but she had endured. She had struggled through a suicide attempt, through loss, through heartbreak, through sleepless nights, and through raising twins to make it to this point. Even with help, finishing school had seemed impossible some days. Morgan had fought for this.

He gave one nod. “A man is proud of his daughter many times in a lifetime. I’ve never felt this, though, Mo. This type of pride is just for this moment with you. You’ve given me a feeling that no one else has before. I love you, Mo. I’m a fucking proud man today.”

Morgan crossed the room and rushed into his strong arms. Ethic. Her Ethic. She loved no one like she loved him. How she had put him at risk she didn’t even know. She had been so stupid. Her jealousy of Alani and the attention Ethic gave her had made Morgan slip and share a secret no one should have ever known. But Bash knew, and now he was using it to hold her hostage. Morgan squeezed Ethic so tightly as they stood there. She wanted to tell him. Wanted to ask for help because he had the power to free her, but to get his help, she’d have to admit to the ways she had exposed him. She would have to look him in the eyes and tell him she had betrayed him. She wasn’t that girl anymore. The jealous, selfish girl who didn’t want him to find love. She loved Alani now. They were her family. Nothing had changed after he’d married Alani. In fact, things had gotten better. She’d gained a confidante in Alani. Their family had grown and was continuing to grow, and they included Mo every step of the way. Now Ethic was at risk because she had been stupid.

“I’m so sorry if I ever hurt you, Ethic,” she said.

Ethic pulled back to stare in her eyes. Morgan diverted her gaze because he could pull the truth out of the most skilled liar, and she wasn’t even that great at mistruths.

“You never have, Mo. You’ve been the light in a lot of dark days, and that hasn’t always been fair to you. I gave you my very best, and I’m glad it was enough to get you here,” he said.

“It was everything,” she said, smiling as she laughed a little while he cleared her tears. The forehead kiss he delivered felt glorious. Nobody loved like Ethic.

“You think Alani can fix this for me? It’s kind of long,” Mo said, glancing down and pulling at the fabric of her graduation gown.

“I’m sure she’ll be happy to, Mo,” Ethic said. Mo removed her cap, and Ethic took it from her hands. She smiled with half her heart as she watched him take in the decorations she had covered the top with. A collage of pictures. Her family. Raven. Her father. Her mother. Ethic. Eazy. Bella. The twins and …

“You put Alani on here,” he said. Not much surprised Ethic, but this gesture certainly did. Mo’s history with Alani was rocky. It had been a challenge for Mo to even accept her, so the move was unexpected.

“I was wrong about her,” Morgan said. “I wasn’t easy on her, and she never gave up on me or this family. I’m really glad to have her.” Mo paused. “I’m glad you have her.”

“I’m a lucky man,” he said. “I know you said you’re fine, Mo, but I’d be a whole lot more comfortable if you spent a little more time around here. At least until I find out who was behind it.”

“I’m okay, Ethic,” she assured. She wanted to do exactly what he was proposing. Retreat to him, to the safety he guaranteed, but she knew it might ruffle Bash’s feathers, and she couldn’t rock the boat right now. “I just want to be at home. If I feel unsafe, I’ll come to you. I promise.” She lied right to his face, and it made her feel horrible because if no one else deserved her honesty, he did.

Ethic pulled Morgan in for another hug before they joined the rest of the family in the living room.

“Mo, I can try to fix that hemline if you want. I should remember enough of what Nannie taught me to do that,” Alani said as soon as Mo walked into the room. It was just like her to see a need and attempt to fulfill it. The people she loved hardly ever had to ask. Alani sat on the couch holding Messari to her chest as he fought the sandman with all his might. His little eyes closed every few seconds only to pop back open, then droop again. Morgan warmed at the sight of the two of them. Alani really filled a huge void in all their lives. Her children called her their La La. Morgan loved the way Alani loved on them.

“Thanks, Alani. That would be perfect,” she answered. “I can take him.”

“He’s fine right here, Mo. I love holding him,” Alani said, closing her eyes for a few seconds as her hand rubbed circles against Messari’s back three times, and then she gave three pats. A pattern that lulled him to sleep. “He’s getting so big. I have to do this while I can. They grow up so fast.” Alani opened her eyes and changed the subject. “How do you feel about a graduation dinner?”

Morgan frowned as uncertainty crept up her spine. “Hmmm. I don’t know. The last party in my honor was a disaster,” she said.

“Doesn’t have to be a big deal. Just family. You worked really hard. You deserve to celebrate with the people you love,” Alani said.

“I guess something small couldn’t hurt. Maybe just dinner at a restaurant or something,” Mo answered. “Where’s Bella and Eazy?”

“Eazy’s out back with Yolly. We’re about to plant some things in the garden. Bella’s with Hendrix,” Alani answered.

Morgan lifted stunned brows to Ethic. “By herself?”

“I got eyes nearby,” he said. “The illusion of freedom.”

Morgan snickered. “Is that what you did with me?” she asked.

“Nah, I held on too tight with you, Mo. I’m trying to do things differently with Bella. Extend some trust. You taught me a lot.”

“B’s a good girl,” Alani said.

“It ain’t Bella I’m worried about,” Ethic stated.

The chime that interrupted commanded their attention to the front door.

Morgan walked down the corridor toward the foyer. “Where did they go anyway?” she yelled.

She pulled open the door, and her heart stalled. Ethic was speaking behind her, but she couldn’t hear him. She couldn’t hear shit.

The scowl that drew wrinkles into his forehead eased some when he saw her face. Surprise. He was shocked to see her there. Gratefulness. She saw the thought manifest in his mind. He was happy to see her. Messiah. Motherfucking Messiah. Morgan’s chest automatically caved around him. It was like he had taken a knife and carved out her heart every time he was in her space. She hated he had that power. She hated that she would always feel him, be affected by him, love him. Stupid ass.

“Shorty,” he greeted.

Morgan gripped the wood of the door as her entire body tensed. She hated that her eyes misted.

His eyes took her in. “Damn, shorty. You graduating? I missed a lot.”

“You missed everything,” she whispered. He took two steps and was crossing the emotional fence she had put up. Fuck the fence. He was in her yard, fucking up her grass, trampling all on her flower bed as he trapped her against the wall. Just like Messiah to fuck shit up to get to her. Morgan’s breath hitched, and her lashes fluttered. Stupid-ass nigga. She both adored this feeling and despised it. He just controlled her. Like there was a remote control to her emotions and he was pressing every damn button like a badass kid.

“I don’t want to miss shit else, Mo,” he said.

Morgan tried to ease by him, but he placed a hand to the wall, stopping her. She went the other way. Another hand. She blew out a breath and rolled her eyes up to him. Niggas and the traps they captured her in. Trap niggas. Hood niggas. Why the hell did she have to be attracted to that type?

“Hear me, shorty. We gon’ get this wrong until we get it right, cuz I ain’t come back for nothing else but you. I’m not accepting nothing less than you.”

“And I’m not accepting nothing less than loyalty. Can you look me in the face and tell me you’re done hurting me? That there are no more secrets? Nothing else I don’t know? That I’m safe with you?”

Messiah bit into his bottom lip and turned his head as thoughts of Bleu ran through his mind. Thoughts of other things too.

Morgan scoffed. She could see the secrets he was keeping. She didn’t know what they were, but she felt them. She had learned to listen to her intuition. He had taught her to trust it with his deception. She had ignored them before when it came to him. She would never do that again. Ahmeek didn’t make her feel this. Like she had to protect herself. He didn’t scare her at all. A huge part of her was fearful of Messiah. Like she was alert, on the ready, bracing for emotional impact because he was going to deliver another blow that would devastate her.

“Same Messiah, different day,” Morgan said. She lifted his arm and walked away.

She couldn’t get away from him fast enough. The fact that she was practically running away from the man she used to desperately pray she could run to bothered her. The change between them unearthed raw emotion.

“How are you okay with him being here?” she asked as soon as Ethic came back into view. Messiah trailed her slowly, coolly. He knew now was not the time to give chase.

“He’s trying to make amends, Mo. It’s not my place to stop a man from attempting to right his wrongs,” Ethic said. “You two have a lot to talk about.”

“We have nothing to talk about,” Morgan answered. She was adamant in her disdain. Stubborn. Too hurt to let the present heal the wounds of the past.

“Mo, you have every reason to hear him out,” Alani reminded as she stood to her feet while carrying Messari. Ethic moved to help her. “I’ve got him, Ezra.” She turned back to Mo. “You’ve got damn good reason, Mo.”

“I don’t owe him anything.”

“Shorty’s right. She ain’t the one with debts to settle. This is her crib. Y’all her people. I’ma get out of here and make it easier on everybody.”

Messiah backpedaled. He wasn’t trying to upset her. It was like a jab to the chin that his presence upset her so much, but he was willing to baby-step his way back into her life.

“You can stay. I was leaving anyway,” Mo said.

“You might as well stay and wait for me to hem this gown, Mo. Cut it out,” Alani said. She struggled to her feet with Messari in her arms. “Messiah, you don’t have to leave either. I actually really need your help. Well, Ezra does. He’s building me a greenhouse.” Alani pointed at Messiah. “Might want to take off that fly-ass jacket, playa, because you’re helping him.”

Messiah licked his bottom lip and debated if he wanted to follow directions. Alani somehow gave them out like a schoolteacher. No questions. All statements. Messiah didn’t particularly like it. He didn’t particularly dislike it either. Something about her felt like he was supposed to listen. Like she was the core of everyone in the room, and they were to protect her at all costs. It was an odd feeling. He had never felt that before for anyone. Motherly. It was almost motherly. He nodded and then peeled out of the jacket.

The room felt small to Morgan. She and Messiah in the same space. The tension. The things floating around in their heads but trapped by sealed lips. Morgan heard her heart racing. She was uncomfortable. Being around him didn’t feel the same. He used to fill her with so much confidence. Now all she felt was the insecurity of unfamiliarity eating her alive. Distance and dishonesty had done a number on them. The thought of how much of a stranger he was to her made her sad.

“Let me put Ssari in the hammock outside. Mo, you can come out when you’re ready,” Alani said. “Grab the sewing kit from upstairs in the closet in the master.”

Morgan felt Messiah’s eyes robbing her of her courage. Damn outlaw. He stayed stealing shit. She huffed and retreated upstairs, leaving him with Ethic and Alani. Morgan quickly located Alani’s sewing kit, and then she made her way to her old room. It overlooked the backyard. She watched Yara play in the wading pool with Eazy, and she smiled as he signed to her. Her eyes drifted to Messiah. Unease filled her, but she couldn’t deny her relief. Just to lay eyes on him again was a gift, no matter how angry she was with him. Morgan felt as if she were staring at a force. Messiah was energy, and Morgan could feel his pull.

Her heart clenched when she saw Messiah walk over to the pool where Yara played. She sucked in air, forgetting to release it as he squatted. Eye to eye, he lingered in front of Yara, the daughter he didn’t even know he had, and Morgan froze. Yara retreated, crying as she ran toward Eazy. She didn’t know him, and her deaf daughter was an empath. She sensed the wickedness in this gangster. Yara had no idea that the devil inside Messiah would burn an entire city to the ground for her. If he only knew that she was of his loins. Blood of his blood. The combination of what their passion had made. Morgan wasn’t sure if it was love anymore. She wasn’t sure of anything. What she felt for Ahmeek was different from what she felt for Messiah, and she was sure that she loved Meek. Messiah’s connection felt like ownership. Like he had purchased her outright and paid in full, all big bills, and he was refusing to sign away the title.

Morgan felt exposed when Messiah lifted his attention to the window.

“Let me get that, shorty.”

It would have been crass had he spoken the words. It was fucking charming as hell, however, because he had signed them. Signed them better than ever. Morgan felt her face heat as her fair skin turned scarlet. The arrogant smirk that pulled at the corners of his lips pissed Morgan off so badly she closed the blinds, blocking his view of her.

She wanted to sit in her room, barricade herself inside, but she refused to give Messiah that power. She had cried many tears between these four walls over him. She had prayed to God to bring him back all those years ago. Her prayers had never come true, and Morgan had fallen down a rabbit hole of dysfunction. Morgan was just beginning to feel like herself after losing him, and as if he had an alarm that warned him that she was about to move on, he had popped back into her life. It was so overwhelming that Morgan hadn’t even taken the time to process his resurrection. She took a deep breath and headed toward the backyard. This was her family. She had every right to be here. Messiah could only make her feel uncomfortable if she let him. She walked downstairs and headed toward the back, but as she entered the kitchen, Messiah came waltzing through the sliding doors. Her breath hitched, and she stopped walking. Messiah stood before her. Fresh fade, white T-shirt, and hoop shorts with fresh J’s.

“You good, shorty?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

She didn’t even know how she answered him, because she was stuck. Stuck in the past, stuck in that kitchen pantry he had devoured her in all those years ago. Stuck between the four walls of her bedroom, where she used to grease his scalp. Her memories were like quicksand, and although she was standing there calmly, she was screaming on the inside.

“After the shooting, I mean. I know how you are with shit like that. You good good?” he asked.

Morgan shrugged and looked down at her feet.

“You’re so fucking pretty, man.”

Her eyes shot to his, then teared. Stupid-ass nigga.

“Nah, Mo. No more tears. Not over me. I don’t even deserve ’em,” Messiah said.

“What do you want, Messiah? Why are you here?” Morgan asked. “This is my family.”

“They’re mine too, Mo. I ain’t got you. Ethic’s all I got.”

Morgan felt a bit of guilt because it was true. Messiah had no one. Morgan would have to share her world because, for so long, he had been a huge part of it too.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“You,” he answered. He had never been one to hold punches. No point in lying. They both knew why he had returned.

“We happened a long time ago, Messiah. It was like living in the clouds back then. You dropped me so hard. You don’t make me feel like I’m flying anymore. I sink with you. I just can’t let you fill my head with air this time. I’ve got to keep my feet on the ground.”

“Fuck gravity. I want to be high, Mo,” Messiah said. He leaned against the wall and lifted one foot as his eyes penetrated hers. She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t join him this time. She couldn’t let him take her to outer space. There was no oxygen there. She would die this time.

“Mommyyyyy!”

The interruption of her screaming toddler felt like relief as Messari banged on the sliding glass door. Messiah opened it, and Messari came rushing inside. He was moving so fast he tripped over his own feet. The dramatic wail that followed the fall turned Morgan to putty. She hated to hear her children cry. Before she could act, Messiah bent to pick him up.

“Yo, that’s a lot of tears, lil’ G. We ain’t about all that. You a’ight,” Messiah coached.

Morgan felt her soul stir. So many days she had wondered what Messiah would be like as a father. Watching him with Messari in his arms both worried and endeared her.

“Slow down, shortstop. You ain’t rounding no bases, homie. Got to keep it, playa. No running.”

Messari leaned his head back curiously as he inspected Messiah. Morgan got goose bumps. Messari had her entire face, but that demeanor was all Messiah. His little brow bent. Messiah’s forehead filled with wrinkles. Lion and cub, Messiah and Messari squared off.

“You ain’t tough, G. What you looking at?” Messiah asked. The corner of his lip curved into a smirk.

“Mommy, who is him?” Messari asked, turning his head to Morgan.

“You a man. Ask me,” Messiah said as he sat Messari on the island in the center of the room. He placed his arms around Messari, leaning against the island as he stared the toddler in the eyes. Messiah’s heart ached.

“We used to dream about bad little niggas just like him, shorty. Damn, you really had another nigga’s kids. You wanted to touch a nigga where it hurt, didn’t you?” Messiah asked, voice dripping in angst as he stared Messari down.

Messari’s hands and eyes went to the chain around Messiah’s neck instantly. Anything shiny was like a magnet to Messari. He just had to touch it. Messiah didn’t seem to mind. Messari was yanking on the chain like it came out of a Cracker Jack box, and Morgan cringed.

“What’s you name?” Messari asked, head cocked to the side curiously. Messari pressed his forehead against Messiah’s and growled at him. The laugh that erupted from Messiah was one Morgan had never heard. It was free. Like he didn’t think twice about his amusement.

“Messiah, kid. My name’s Messiah,” he said.

Messari’s face lit up. “Mommy! Him name is like mine!”

“What’s your name, kid?” Messiah asked, smirking.

“Messari Benji Atkins.”

Morgan’s soul left her body. Messiah turned to stone. His back stiffened as he stood up straight and turned eyes of disbelief to Morgan.

She hurried to Messari, squeezing between him and Messiah, grabbing her son up and heading outside.

“Yo, Mo, what the fuck type of shit you on, shorty?” Messiah asked as he followed her.

Morgan ignored him as she headed over to the kiddie pool. “Yara, let’s go, baby,” Morgan signed urgently. She reached down and practically pulled off her baby’s arm as she dragged her across the lawn.

“Mo! What’s wrong?” Alani asked as she stood from the table.

Ethic looked up but didn’t stand as Morgan bypassed them. Messiah was on her ass.

“Shorty got some fucking explaining to do with her slick ass! That’s what’s wrong! Why the little nigga got my name, Mo?” he asked.

“Aren’t you going to do something?” Alani asked, turning to Ethic.

“Nope,” Ethic answered.

Messiah pulled at Mo’s arm. She snatched it away.

“Stop touching me!” she shouted.

Yara felt the tension between them. Her little legs could barely keep up with Mo’s pace as Morgan dragged her along.

“The nigga got my name, Mo!”

“He don’t got your name! He got his own name! Move, Messiah!” Morgan shouted as she pushed past him. She stormed back into the house, struggling with two babies as she retrieved her keys and then exited out the front door. She pulled open the back door to her car. Messiah pushed it closed.

“How old are they, Mo?” Messiah asked.

He was pulling at her, desperate for information. His stomach was empty, sick, twisting in torment at the possibility that these could be his whiny, snotty-nosed little motherfuckers. The ones they had dreamed of all those years ago. He tried to search their faces for similarities, but he found none. All he saw was Morgan Atkins.

“Get off me!” she shouted.

Messiah pointed a finger in her face, tilting her forehead back. “Answer the fucking question, Mo!”

Messari was in her arms, and the tone of Messiah’s voice flipped a switch inside his little body. At just two years old, his instincts kicked in.

Bop!

The tiniest fist connected with Messiah’s eye. The stun behind the punch brought Messiah to an abrupt halt.

“Ssari!” Morgan shouted.

Messiah pulled Messari from Morgan’s arms and held him by both shoulders, extending his arms up above his head as he stared the little boy in his eyes.

“Hey! Put me down!” Messari shouted. He swung and kicked as he dangled at Messiah’s mercy. It took everything in Messiah not to laugh.

“Badass.” He smirked. “Keep protecting ya’ mama, kid. That’s exactly what you do if a nigga run up talking crazy. Remind a nigga when he doing too much, and touch him where it hurt if he don’t stop.” He pulled Messari into his body and looked down at Yara, who was hiding behind Mo. He pinched Morgan’s chin between two fingers. “We gon’ talk, shorty. Stop crying and get your kids home safe.”

He kissed her lips like he had a right to. Nothing major. A peck on the mouth like he had been doing it for years. He placed Messari on his feet, then turned to walk back into the house. Morgan thought about yelling after him. The twins were his children. They were their children. But then she thought of who he was and what he had done. Messiah was toxic. If she had learned anything at all from him, it was to not trust words but actions. His actions had made him her enemy, and it would take a lot more than charm and aggression to get her to trust him with her babies. Morgan wouldn’t ever put them in jeopardy. She couldn’t gamble with their safety, and Messiah was full of uncertainty. Until she was sure he was safe, he couldn’t know. She tucked her kids into their car seats and drove away. Distance was needed, because being around Messiah brought on a familiar ache inside her. One she never wanted to feel again.