He climbed out the car and followed her into the house. By the time he caught up to her, Ethic had her frozen in sight.

Morgan was in tears and Messiah’s stomach twisted, knowing that she was crying because of his rejection.

“Are you hurt?” Ethic asked.

She shook her head.

“Are you high?” Ethic grilled.

Normally when Ethic asked a question, he already knew the answer, so Morgan knew better than to lie. Under his intense stare, Morgan shrank. She didn’t want to lie to him, so she opted for silence, looking off to the side as her eyes watered. It was in these moments when Ethic reminded her so much of her father that she felt the saddest. He shouldn’t have to discipline her. She should have parents for that; but her father had been gunned down by the police, years ago, on a Sunday morning. On the day that belonged to the Lord, the devil had come and snatched the foundation of her family away. She remembered it, like it was yesterday, and it still hurt. Now, Ethic was left playing the paternal role. Although she loved him, it wasn’t the same.

Morgan could see the disappointment in Ethic’s eyes, and for a moment, it felt like she was sitting in front of the late, great Benjamin Atkins himself. Ethic was cut from the same cloth as her late father.

“Go upstairs, Morgan. Sleep it off. We’ll talk about everything in the morning,” Ethic said. Morgan nodded and then retreated up the stairs.

Messiah wanted her to look back at him, just so he could look in her eyes one more time, but she didn’t.

“I appreciate you going to get her, homie,” Ethic said, as he pulled out a knot of hundred-dollar bills.

“Come on now, put that up. We don’t count favors. Anytime, OG; it’s nothing,” Messiah said. He slapped hands and embraced Ethic, before breaking out. He didn’t want to leave things as they were, but it really wasn’t his place to fix Morgan. She had been broken way before Messiah came along, so he would let sleeping dogs lie.

2

“She’s just trying to spread her wings a little bit. She will be okay.”

The sound of Dolce voicing her opinion on things that didn’t involve her irritated him. She came up behind him, wrapping her arms around him, as if she was his peace of mind. She wasn’t that for him. That wasn’t her place in his life; and the more she tried to force it, the more it turned him off. He removed her hands and turned to her.

“It’s getting late,” Ethic said.

“I could stay,” Dolce offered.