“Messiah, don’t do this,” she whispered, desperately, as a single tear slid down her cheek.

His gut hollowed at her sadness, but as he thought about Ethic’s warning, he couldn’t cave to spare her feelings. Gangsters and good girls didn’t mix. He didn’t want to have his actions jeopardize her and he wasn’t ready to leave the game alone. He was young and thugging it, getting money hand over fist, and Morgan wasn’t built for that. He would rather hurt her feelings than to give in to his own, and one day be the cause of her tragedy. It had already happened to her sister. Messiah wouldn’t be the one to allow history to repeat itself.

“Messiah,” she pleaded. He leaned over in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees, as his head hung in turmoil. His hands were clasped against his forehead. Fuck, Mo, he thought. His name on her lips was his weakness. It was the way she said it, as if she had practiced in her head a thousand times before she ever had the courage to try it aloud. These tears she cried and her pleading his name... Messiah wanted her. “Messiah!” This time, it was angry, but still she was calling him. His dick swelled, his heart thundered. God he wanted to fuck her…to love her…to keep her. He did the one thing he knew would make her go and dead all possibilities of them ever having anything together.

“I fucked Nish, Mo,” Messiah said, as he lifted his head to look at her. He may as well have slapped her, the way the false confession landed like a blow to her chin. The way her eyes fell in disappointment... It broke his heart. Every piece of his cold heart thawed. He loved her, and if there was any doubt before, it was gone now. Her hurt was his, but he wouldn’t take it back. It was for her own good. “Go to school, Morgan, there’s nothing left for you here.” He envied a blind man at that moment. Watching her leave was the worst feeling of all, because this time, he knew she wouldn’t return.

16

Morgan could barely function. She was overly emotional, as she packed her things in the cardboard boxes that covered her room. She was leaving home, venturing out. Instead of the excitement she should have felt, she was forlorn. She had gone through so much to get Messiah to want her, to get him to see her, only to be rejected. He wasn’t who she thought he was and her miscalculation in judgment stung.

“Mo?” She turned to see Bella standing in her doorway. “You need some help?”

“I’m about done now,” Morgan replied. Bella walked over to the bed and sat down.

“It feels weird seeing you pack up,” Bella said, the normal gleam in her eye missing.