Butterfly

by Ashley Antoinette

“Ethic told you to stay away. If you want Morgan, you’ll have to get past him first, and I’m not talking about the way you’re used to handling things. He isn’t an enemy. He’s your family. He’s like her father, so getting rid of him hurts her. The only way to her is through love. You have to tap into the love he has for you and get his forgiveness before you can even get to her. A lot of people never get a second chance. This is yours. You handled their entire family wrong the first time. This is your chance to fix it.”

She needed to see his deep-set eyes and dark skin. She needed to rest her head on his chest to hear the way his heart beat because when it beat too slow, it meant he was trying to maintain his composure. It meant he was lying. Whenever he was calm around her, it meant he was fighting his emotions, trying not to love her. It was when his pulse raced that he was telling the truth.

“Morgan, the ways you have benefited with this family holds value. The same way I pulled strings for you at Cambridge, I can tie them back. I can knot them. No one likes knots, dear. It’s best for you to stay on board.” “That sounds like a threat,” Morgan said. “Come on, dear, you can’t think you’ve gotten this far at Cambridge on your own merit. Every class, every grade, every milestone was paid for, Morgan. How devastating would a public scandal be if that news came out? You would be back at square one. Your career would be over before it even began,” Christiana said. “Now eat the kale and like it.”

“Beg God, nigga; don’t beg me. I don’t save lives, I end ’em, homie.”

“Pretty-ass mouth … dirty-ass lips,” Ahmeek whispered.

By the time the dress fell to the floor, Ahmeek was on his knees, hands steepled because he wasn’t a liar. He prayed before he ate.

“A nigga gon’ always pull up right on time. Never late. I ain’t missing no shots with you, love.”

“I’m not on no bullshit,” Messiah said, lifting his shirt and turning around to show he wasn’t strapped. “Niggas like you are always on bullshit, Messiah,” Ethic stated, voice deep and unforgiving. “I thought you were dead.” “I was close to it,” Messiah revealed. “You left my fucking…” Ethic stopped himself and cleared his throat. “I picked up a lot of broken pieces after you disappeared, Messiah. You broke Mo down. Even before she thought you died, and now you come back like it’s nothing. Like the shit you do don’t affect her!”

“Shorty said I could come home,” Messiah whispered. “She said she’d always be home.” His face contorted. “I ain’t never had nobody, man, until her.” “Then you should have taken better care of her. I told you not to fuck with her, and you did it anyway, knowing you would hurt her. I told you no, little nigga!”

“And you went through it by yourself? Chemo? Radiation?” Ethic asked. “I ain’t got nobody, man,” Messiah said. He was broken as he dropped his head and tears fell from his eyes. He sniffed loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose. Ethic advanced on him, giving him a strong pat on the back followed by a strong embrace.

“I’ll do whatever it takes, whatever you say. I need you to help me, OG. I need you to help me come home to her. Help me, man. Nobody ever helped me. I was little as fuck, man, and nobody did shit!” Messiah cried. “Don’t leave me stuck, man. Just help me get her back. She the only one that ever loved me, man. I got to get her back.”

Another man had never touched him without inflicting harm. Another man had never fathered him, and the void Ethic was filling in this moment was healing. Messiah was in desperate need of forgiveness, and Ethic was willing to offer absolution.

Winning her wouldn’t be easy because now that she had been loved correctly, he wouldn’t be able to come to her with anything less than his best