She tried to stand, but Detroit pulled her back down, “Relax, baby girl, I don’t bite,” he said. She didn’t think he did, but she knew Messiah’s bite was vicious. She watched Messiah make his way over to the sideline. He slipped a shirt over his head, never taking his eyes off her. She held his stare as well, all the while entertaining Detroit. He want to play games, he can watch me with the next nigga then, she thought, as she smiled in Detroit’s face. Messiah passed his duffel to one of his little soldiers and then walked across the court, slapping hands with a few fellas he knew, on his way over to her. Morgan smirked at his cockiness. He didn’t rush to intervene, instead he sent her warning shots in the form of intense stares. If he made it all the way across the court and she was still seated in homeboy’s lap, it was going to be a problem. She knew it and yet, she didn’t budge.

“I’d love to take you out sometime,” the guy said.

Before she could answer, Messiah stood in front of them, glaring at her. Nish stood and went to hug him, but he snatched his arm away.

“We got a problem?” he asked. The question was intended for Detroit, but he was staring directly at her. Normally, Morgan wouldn’t have caused a scene, but she was livid with him.

“It’s whatever,” Detroit said, as he lifted Morgan from his lap and stood, pulling his shirt up to reveal a pistol that rested on his hip. Detroit had no bitch in him, but Messiah was a fucking menace. He grabbed Detroit by his neck with one hand and snatched the pistol from Detroit’s waist with the other.

“Messiah!” Nish screamed, but he was already on 10. Messiah had Detroit wedged between the bleachers and was pistol-whipping him with the man’s own gun. Messiah’s crew was off the court, ready to curl triggers, if any other Detroiters felt the need to intervene. Messiah stood, leaving the guy bloodied and looking for his teeth in the stands.

Morgan was horrified, but oddly turned-on, as she watched Messiah pass the burner to one of his goons.

He snatched her arm, practically dragging her out the gym. When they were in the hall, he backed her against the wall and pointed a stern finger in her face.

“I told you I only know one way to be, Mo,” Messiah said. “Every nigga that you entertain, I’m using for target practice. You gon’ have a lot of mamas out here pulling out black dresses.”