“A man takes care of his woman. If this is about a woman, then a man would be at her side. If it’s about you, then we can walk in there and handle it together and burn something. The type of man that I would want my daughter with, and trust me, Morgan is like a daughter to me…that man would walk away and make sure she’s good. A real man never puts himself in a position to leave his woman. Murder is 25 years to life. Is this some street shit between you and him? Or some kind of show of love for a woman? Because, if it’s for love, you got it backwards. Love keeps you at her side, healing wounds. This shit here… is all motivated by hate. This shit here... removes you from a woman’s life faster than the blink of an eye. One minute, you’re here defending her honor, catching a body. The next, you’re trapped behind steel bars, watching her search for even half of you in the next nigga in line,” Ethic said. His tone was scolding, and Messiah could hear the anger in his voice. He weighed the words on his soul. He, desperately, wanted to be the one to end Lucas, but he knew that Ethic was judging him in this moment. How Messiah moved would determine if Ethic would approve or disapprove of his feelings for Morgan. It would reveal whether Messiah was the type of man a father would allow to date his princess, despite blood relation.

Messiah blew out a sharp breath, and without saying another word, he pulled open the door, flipped the hood to his sweat shirt up and headed in the opposite direction of Lucas’ house.

Ethic nodded, slightly proud that Messiah had the self-control to walk away, but more than a little irritated that the young gunner had his sights on Morgan. It was a conversation for a different day, but one that would be had.