It was odd that she recognized the sound of the horn. Insane that she knew it was Messiah before she even looked up. He popped open the driver’s door of his BMW and climbed out. She didn’t know if she should run inside or stand her ground. Her feet seemed to be rooted as he approached.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

Messiah scooped Morgan up, forcing her thighs to butterfly his waist as he pushed her back into the building. He stood there. Eye to eye. Nose to nose.

“I can’t sleep, shorty, cuz you over here in your feelings,” Messiah said. “When you used to tell me you couldn’t sleep, I used to come through to put you to bed,” he said, half smiling as he buried his face in the groove of her neck.

“Messiah, stop,” she whispered. She peered behind her through the glass door, and Messiah peered right with her.

“It’s a problem, shorty?” he asked, voice dripping in aggression because he had been itching to put a nigga on his back.

He turned. She might as well have been Pebbles to his Bamm-Bamm because she was sure he would club her and drag her, kicking and screaming, with him. He didn’t even risk putting her on her feet because he was afraid she would run from him.

Morgan blushed and leaned her head against his forehead. She just didn’t have it in her to protest at the moment. “I dreamed about you coming back so many times,” she said, scoffing. “It was nothing like this, though. I didn’t hate you in my dreams.”

Morgan was silent, and Messiah was at a loss for words. They made it to the car, and he tucked her inside before going to the driver’s seat. He sat there, staring at her, making her uncomfortable as she turned her gaze out the window.

“The gunshots are ringing in my head, Messiah,” she murmured. “My babies were in there. I had to—”

“I know, Mo. I know about having to do shit you don’t really want to do,” Messiah said, his tone low, reminiscent. He was filled with remorse. Time and his selfishness had diluted their bond. He could feel her mistrust of him. It rotted in the passenger seat of his car, and it was so potent it brought emotion to his eyes. He was grateful for the dark of night. It concealed his anguish. “If it’s ever you or another nigga, you choose you, Mo. Every time. You’re not equal to nobody, shorty. You did what you had to do, and you’ll never have to do it again. I swear on my life as long as I’m breathing, you’ll never have to protect yourself again. I’ma be there, wherever you are, no matter who you’re with, to protect you. I’m taking niggas’ heads off over you, shorty.”