Butterfly 2

by Ashley Antoinette

gotten until he heard Ethic cut the engine. He

Morgan was silent as she sat beside him. Her eyes were on the glass pieces on the floor. Those pieces reminded her of herself … of her heart … she was shattered and although she seemed okay, no amount of glue would be able to piece her together again.

Ahmeek was trying and Morgan wished she could let him, but no one knew how hard it was to trust again. The things she felt for Ahmeek were terrifying. They made her vulnerable, they made her ache inside, and she couldn’t depend on that feeling to stay. She didn’t want to get used to it because her past had taught her that it wouldn’t last.

Morgan broke. Even after discovering her in bed with another man, even with the smell of Ahmeek still on her skin, even after taking a brutal beating Bash still wanted her. Was still professing his love. It reminded her of Messiah.

It reminded her of how Messiah had taken advantage of her love for him.

She was doing that in this moment. Hurting Bash. Taking advantage of him because she knew he loved her more … Messiah had turned her heartless. Messi...

I can’t be because there is shit in my heart that stops me from falling too hard. After Messiah, I can’t fall that hard,” she said. “I need to remain in control of my heart … of my life … and your family takes control of me. I have no freedom.

There was no safety in his touch, no power, no aggression … just desperation. He was desperate not to lose her. Morgan was full of regrets.

If she could be happy one day with Bash the way she was when she was with Ahmeek.

The all-white BMW represented a status he once held in the streets.

Ahmeek was claiming her, publicly, loving on her openly … knowing full well it was forbidden, uncaring that Ethic didn’t like it, unconcerned that she had an entire fiancé. He didn’t care how wrong they were, he was proud to show her off and she loved it. God why did she love this so much? Why couldn’t she feel this with Bash?

Messiah lifted her hand and admired the ink that melted from his skin to hers. Two tattoos one picture, incomplete without the

other half. The greatest friend he’d ever had. Bond tested, turmoil approved.

Maybe she and Messiah were only meant to create these beautiful souls and nothing more.

Light flooded into the darkest parts of her heart, into the unhealthiest parts of her mind as soon as she saw his face.

They probably would never be together on that

level. It wasn’t a forever type of thing despite what it felt like. In the deepest chamber of her heart she knew she couldn’t be that for him. Forever. His. She wanted to. She wished she could, but they had so many things that prevented that from coming true. A closet full of skeletons that they were both ignoring just to feel what they were feeling when they were in each other’s presence.

her. “God why did I let you in?” she whispered as his lips covered hers. “I’m getting attached Ahmeek.” He paused and stared her in the eyes. No words. Just a bunch of thoughts telling him to end this now. A bunch of warnings blaring in his mind telling him that Morgan would be the death of him.

One wrong move and her life would explode. The detonation would be catastrophic, yet still here she was, risking it all.

“The one who’s going to fuck shit up for every woman after this moment. You’re never going to be mine love, but I’ma always be yours. Whenever you need a nigga, you come find me. I don’t give a fuck about what happens between us. Good, bad. If you stay near, far. If we talk every day or if we haven’t talked for years. If you ever need to hit my line, don’t think twice, don’t talk yourself out of it. You call me and I’m pulling up dumping over you. Every time.”

“Two negatives equal a positive, B,” Messiah said, half smiling as he flicked her chin with his finger.

He would end up losing them both before he ever allowed himself to put one above the other.

Bleu was simply a friendship that he couldn’t let go of. She was an intricate part of him now and Messiah prayed that the bond with Morgan wouldn’t suffer because of it.

In a pretty ass house, the twins are older and it’s one on the way. There’s a ring on your finger and ain’t no gun on my hip. Ain’t no weekly licks to hit, no runs to make. It’s just me and you doing a whole lot of fucking and a whole lot of loving and that look in your eye … that shit that makes you doubt me is gone. Big dreams, love.

Once to introduce himself to the work. Twice to understand what the poet was trying to say. A third time to feel it from Morgan’s perspective.

“I can breathe just fine without him Aria. He taught me that I could live without him. That’s what scares me most,” Morgan admitted. “He left and I died a little on the inside.

left. He broke my heart and the first thing I felt when I heard his voice was a pulse. I felt him in my veins, Aria. I just wanted to touch him to see if he was real.”

this meant for him and Mo. Aria walked out the door. Morgan turned, holding onto the back of the couch with one hand. They were silent. Staring at one another like they were soaking each other in, noting every detail, because they weren’t sure if they would get the opportunity to again. Ahmeek stood in front of her, brow furrowed in worry, eyes shining with confusion. The sight of him both stirred and disturbed her soul. Ahmeek, Messiah’s left hand, and her lover. What a fucking complicated mess she had made. Her lip quivered. “Is it true? He’s alive?” Meek asked. There was something in his tone. A break. Hope wrapped in disbelief, with a bow of sadness on top because Messiah’s return changed so many things. Morgan couldn’t even find her voice. She just nodded. She rushed into his arms, sobbing. How had they gotten to this place? “He’s back!” she cried. “God, Meek, what have I done?” He held her tightly and grit his teeth, palming the back of her head, pressing her into his body. They were tormented. “What have we done, Mo? Not just you. What have we done?” he said. “I’m dying!” Meek gripped the sides of her face and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Mo, I know what this means. He’s back and we can’t. We shouldn’t have in the first place.” Morgan wilted in his arms. “I’m so sorry!” “Shh.” She needed his consoling. She needed it so badly. “Stop, love.” “I can’t, Meek,” she sobbed. She was sucking in air. Hyperventilating. Panicking. “Meek, I can’t breathe.” “You can,” Meek st...

second that she had wasted with him before was now a regret. She kissed him so deeply that he stumbled forward, removing one hand to put it against the wall and then pulling her waist into his body. Morgan was a mess. An emotional hurricane. “What are we going to do?” she asked as she lowered her head into his chest, squeezing her eyes tight. “I can’t pretend like this didn’t happen. I couldn’t choose between you and Messiah, now he’s back. I only have one heart Meek. Who am I supposed to give it to?” “Can’t give that bitch to nobody because I ain’t never give it back.” Messiah. Fucking Messiah. His voice made Morgan freeze. Her limbs turned to steel. His baritone made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She gripped Meek’s collar as her forehead hit his chest in disgrace, she turned her head to the side away from Messiah as she sobbed. “Meek please, make him leave. I can’t.” Morgan’s heart was on the floor. She couldn’t handle this. She couldn’t do this right now. Here they were. The three of them. Her transgressions were out in front of them. Clear as day. There was no excusing what Messiah had just interrupted. Three people and only two seats at the table. “Just go inside,” Ahmeek instructed. “I can’t,” she cried. “I can’t walk. I can’t breathe. Ahmeek. God!” The sight in front of Messiah was devastating. He knew he had himself to blame, but the sight of Morgan leaning on his man for help, clinging to him in her time of need, saying his name so intimately. It tore...

“Understood,” Ethic answered with the nod of his head. Yeah, she was a real mother. She was someone Morgan needed. He was willing to bet that Morgan had enjoyed whatever time she had spent in this woman’s presence.

“I don’t know how to love her right, man. Every time I think I’m doing something for her, it ends up being for me and I’m just lost on all this shit.

Ahmeek

gang of killers but she felt obligated to keep them safe. She felt like if she called it would be too much. If she asked for help, they would judge her. The world would know that she had messed up her entire life and Morgan was tired of being the one with problems. She was tired of being the one that needed fixing. She could never let Ethic know that she had told Bash what he had done. Morgan had no choice but to play the game by Bash’s rules. What if Bash told what he knew? What if she left him and he used the information she had given him to put Ethic in jail? All these things ran through Mo’s mind in an instant and then her sister, Raven Atkins plagued her thoughts. She had never understood how she could be so weak for a man who hit her. She couldn’t understand because she was looking up at Raven from her childish vantage point. She couldn’t identify the manipulation or the mental bondage that Mizan had trapped her in. It wasn’t until this very moment that she understood because somehow against her will she had become just like Raven. She had become trapped by a man and she had an inkling in her gut that these instances of confrontation with Bash were the beginnings of abuse. Morgan wanted out, but she would remain silent because there was so much at stake. She wondered what factors had stopped Raven from asking for help. Morgan let her tears fall and she prayed that her silence didn’t lead to her death. She didn’t want to follow her sister to an early grave. She just h...