Messari pointed to Yara. “Her want Mommy!”

Messiah focused on Yara. Her little eyes were so heavy with tears, and her bottom lip poked so far out that Messiah’s heart exploded.

“Fuck yo’ mommy,” Messiah muttered.

“Hey!” Messari contested. He lifted his little leg and kicked Messiah’s shin. Messiah looked down in shock before a snicker left his lips. “Yo’ little badass is definitely mine,” Messiah chuckled, scooping him up.

“You not nice!” Messari shouted.

“You not nice either,” Messiah shot back. He carried Messari back to the futon and sat next to Yara. He reached for her, but she scrambled away from him, all the way to the opposite end.

“Her don’t like you,” Messari said.

It hurt Messiah’s feelings beyond measure because he feared that it just might be true. His daughter didn’t like him. Hell, his son had put hands on him twice. Messiah ached to know them. He prayed that the two years that had passed weren’t irreversible.

Yara’s inevitable tears started, and her cries were so loud that Messiah’s stomach knotted with anxiety.

“Sit down right here for a minute, man,” Messiah said as he put Messari down. He tried to pick Yara up, but she kicked and screamed, pushing his hands off her body every time he reached for her.

“Okay! Okay!” Messiah shouted. He stood up and swiped a hand down his head. “What the fuck, man?”

Yara was on her back, having a full-blown tantrum, flailing her little body all over the futon so hard that the mattress was sliding off.

Messiah looked down at Messari. “You stay right here with her. Stay here. I’ll be right back,” he said. He stepped into his bedroom, hoping it helped quiet the noise. It didn’t. He pulled out his phone and dialed Bleu’s number. He could barely hear her answer over the sounds of Yara’s persistent wails.

“Messiah?” Bleu answered. “I can barely hear you. Who is that crying in the background?”

“B, I need you. I need you to come over here right fucking now.”

Messiah was frantic. He had never been this unnerved. The crying hadn’t stopped. Messari followed him everywhere asking a million questions, and he just couldn’t think straight. He tried to hold Yara, but it only intensified her anguish, and Messiah was beginning to wonder if something was seriously wrong.

“Hey, you want this? I’ll give you this if you stop crying,” he signed, offering her his phone. He wasn’t above bribery. He would do anything to stop this incessant crying. Yara snatched the phone and threw it, and Messiah grimaced.

“Her want Mommy!” Messari said as he ran around the futon.

Messiah was in over his head and didn’t know what to do. The one thing he refused to do was answer Morgan’s phone calls or reach out to her for help.

“Mommy had time with y’all for two years. It’s my turn. I got to catch up,” Messiah said.

“How come?” Messari asked.