“And you’re lucky I didn’t snatch that lace front off that bitch head,” Morgan shot back. “Just go back in there with your girlfriend and give me my child,” she snapped, a tear slipping down her face. She hated that she was so damn emotional all the time. When she was afraid, she cried. Angry … she cried … sad … more tears. Even when Mo was happy, she shed emotion. She just wanted to be strong. “What are you doing with her?” She knew she had no right to demand answers.

“Whatever I want to do, Mo. I’m single. You not my girl. You ended the shit,” Ahmeek answered as he rubbed the back of his neck. This was too much drama, too much back and forth for Ahmeek. He had never let a woman play with his emotions the way he allowed Morgan to play. She was in one day and out the next. Morgan could see the stress building in him.

Stunned, Morgan’s eyes widened. Most men would have lied. He served her an unfortunate truth. “Right,” she whispered, nodding. “I forgot. Ahmeek with all the hoes. Move ’em in, move ’em out, right? You’re predictable, and you’re disgusting. Bitch probably been in the picture since I started fucking with you.”

Ahmeek stepped to Morgan, dwarfing her as he gripped her T-shirt, snatching her close. Her space became his, like he’d paid rent and had a right to occupy it. Yara’s head rested peacefully against his shoulder, and he pushed Mo back toward the wall. Jail. She was locked up in Ahmeek, and freedom wasn’t an option as he glared at her.

“You’re in your feelings, so I’ma let you get that off. Don’t feel good, do it? Watching somebody you fuck with heavy give love to somebody that ain’t you? It drive you a little crazy, right? Got your blood boiling thinking about me putting my lips on the same places I put them on you? Got you putting together shit in your head that make your chest ache.”

“It makes me regret ever fucking with you,” she said plainly. “Every single moment.”

“Yeah, I’m feeling the same lately, Mo. Real shit. None of this should have even happened because you stay on your bullshit,” Meek stated. “Fucking wasting my energy, yo.”

“Fuck you, Meek!” Morgan snapped. Morgan’s voice echoed through the three-story building, and passersby slowed their stroll to take in the heated argument. She was making a scene. She was so deep in her feelings that she couldn’t help it, and he shook his head. This young-ass girl would drive him crazy if he let her.

“We’re done,” Ahmeek said. “I’m off it, Mo. Coming at me over a bitch when you got niggas in rotation. Ya’ ass and your games. Fuck out of here with that shit, man.”