Young love was potent, like crack to a dope fiend, like relaxer to new growth, like good dick to a nympho, like chocolate during a menstrual; when you needed it, you needed it. She saw the light in her room flicker on, then off, and she turned to see Ethic standing in the doorway. She sighed. She had wondered when he would speak to her. It had been days and he hadn’t uttered one word. His silence was almost worse than any punishment he could come up with. It took a lot to make Ethic mad, but he was brooding. His demeanor filled the house with anxiety, as she waited. She was tired of the daddy role. When she was younger, she needed him. She wanted his guidance. She respected his role as patriarch in her life. It was old and stale at 18, however. She wanted the leash removed. She had been walking around on eggshells because his disappointment was like carrying around a heavy weight that only he could relieve her of. If he truly was her father, she would want his approval; but Morgan just wanted him to leave her alone and give her space to become whomever it was she was meant to be, whether it was fucked up or not.

“What do you want?” she signed.

Ethic folded his arms over his broad, strong, chest. “I don’t know what to do with you, at this point, Morgan,” he signed back.

“I never asked you to do anything. You chose to take me in. You’re not my father.” Her hands were moving so fast that he knew she was upset.

“But I’m your family. Family is about more than blood, and I want to keep you safe. Messiah ain’t safe. Choosing to go to the motel with a nigga you didn’t know wasn’t safe. Someone, intentionally, hurt you and there was a price to pay for that. Messiah won’t hurt you like that, but he lives a lifestyle that he can’t protect you from. If something happens to you because of him, at the hands of him, or anyone who has a problem with him…” Ethic paused, because he could feel his temper returning. “He’s not an exception, is all I’m saying. When you hurt, others get hurt; and this time, someone innocent was affected behind bad decisions you made, Morgan,” Ethic signed, as his thoughts went to the little girl lying cold in a casket.

Speculation had already spread around the city about the murders. Morgan didn’t know, exactly, what had occurred, but she knew that Ethic was behind both Lucas’ murder and the little girl whose face had been on nightly news on repeat. Morgan was young, however, and she didn’t quite value life in the same way Ethic did. That little girl’s death is on Lucas. His karma got her killed, she thought.