Butterfly 3

by Ashley Antoinette

“You look so much like her.” His voice held nostalgia, and Morgan’s heart dipped. “But you’re not like her, Mo. You made it. It was important to me that you make it.”

Ethic. Her Ethic. She loved no one like she loved him. How she had put him at risk she didn’t even know. She had been so stupid. Her jealousy of Alani and the attention Ethic gave her had made Morgan slip and share a secret no one should have ever known. But Bash knew, and now he was using it to hold her hostage.

She would have to look him in the eyes and tell him she had betrayed him. She wasn’t that girl anymore. The jealous, selfish girl who didn’t want him to find love. She loved Alani now. They were her family. Nothing had changed after he’d married Alani. In fact, things had gotten better. She’d gained a confidante in Alani. Their family had grown and was continuing to grow, and they included Mo every step of the way. Now Ethic was at risk because she had been stupid.

“Same Messiah, different day,”

Distance and dishonesty had done a number on them.

What she felt for Ahmeek was different from what she felt for Messiah, and she was sure that she loved Meek. Messiah’s connection felt like ownership.

“We happened a long time ago, Messiah. It was like living in the clouds back then. You dropped me so hard. You don’t make me feel like I’m flying anymore. I sink with you. I just can’t let you fill my head with air this time. I’ve got to keep my feet on the ground.”

If she had learned anything at all from him, it was to not trust words but actions. His actions had made him her enemy, and it would take a lot more than charm and aggression to get her to trust him with her babies.

He only had to be locked up one time to know that he never wanted to go back, so instead of moving recklessly, he moved smartly. He listened more than he spoke, but sometimes his temper flared

He hadn’t realized how far he had swum out in Mo’s waters until this very moment. She had drowned him because she had joined the very short list of names that he’d die behind.

“Niggas show you who they are, you believe ’em. You know my code,”

“It was Messiah, man. After the L I took on the truck that was robbed, he said he would give me a better split if he was back over seventy-five. Said he needed you out the way, though. Told me to get at everybody you love and clear the throne so he could get his seat back. He replaced the money I lost.”

That was Beans truck of drugs that Messiah robbed.

“He sent me at you, and everybody know how you feel about her. Weaken the king, then kill him. We were supposed to hit everybody you fuck with. He never named her, but she’s first when it comes to you.”

He gripped the sides of the chair, fighting emotion, but he showed none. Rage and devastation swirled in him. It was a hot-boy summer, and he was about to cool niggas off. It was time to make it rain. Bullets. Murder Meek wanted to change the forecast and make it rain bullets. This feeling, this news was the worst thing he’d ever felt. It was worse than Mo cutting him off. It hurt more than the discovery of Messiah’s empty hospital room all those years ago. It ached more than the day his father got locked up. This shit was the worst pain he’d ever dealt with.

The window rolled down, and Ethic’s face appeared. Their eye contact was brief, but in the stare down, Ahmeek sensed acceptance.

“You don’t lose sleep over nobody that ever means you harm.

Ahmeek came off the porch. “You want to kill me? You pull the trigger yourself. You breathe on Mo the wrong way and I’ma put you down. She get caught up in some stupid shit again because you in your feels and I’ma look you in your motherfucking face and blow your head off,” he said.

“That nigga Beans sent the shooters to the studio! The hitters that you paid to take care of me. Me and everybody I love? That’s the order you put down my nigga. I love her! Every nigga in this city know the shit! I done spun Mo through every block in the hood! You came for my head, and they came for hers!”

Messiah’s face changed, just slightly. A flash of guilt bent his brow as the revelation hit him. He had almost gotten Morgan Atkins, the love of his life, killed.

The casual nature of friendship, the unspoken bond they shared, the dependency they had created … nah, she couldn’t do that at all … not anymore.

Morgan hadn’t slept in her own bed in days, and when she left him, she could have sworn he was having her followed. She felt like eyes were on her all the time. She even felt like he was checking her phone at night. She had never been more on edge. She wasn’t comfortable anywhere, but she knew she couldn’t leave. So, she endured.

he placed his lips to the nape of her neck. It felt like the kiss of death.

Ahmeek gave her orgasms, back to back, sometimes all night, but Messiah punished her pussy without remorse. He made her take dick even when she couldn’t handle it, even when it was a little past her limit, he made her bite down and endure the ride because, like a roller coaster, once it started, it didn’t stop.

“You’re disgusting. You don’t know who you’re eating after,”

“Getting married, Messiah, and fucking your friend on the side,” she finished in a weak admission of guilt.

“Yes, Messiah, the corny college boy! You disappeared, and he didn’t. He was solid. On days when I felt like taking a razor to my wrists, he would show up out of nowhere. We talked. We went to the movies. He cooked for me. We read books together. He was my friend. He saw me through depression. He welcomed me into his family, helped me keep up with homework while raising two babies. He put in the time, Messiah … with the space and opportunity you gave him!”

“I think about what would have happened if that girl never showed up at your house that day. I think about it every day. When would you have killed Ethic? Would you have killed me? Eazy? B? How would it have all gone down? Would I have seen it coming?”

You were young, though, and I knew what I was there for, so it wasn’t even an option, but your ass kept chasing it. You kept begging me to pop that, and when I did, it was over. You got in my head that night at the falls, and then I fucked with you and everything changed. I couldn’t figure out how to touch Ethic without it tearing you apart. Then I started questioning if it was even worth it in the first place. Ethic was more of a brother than Mizan ever was, but there was pressure on me to make that right. Either I made it right or somebody else was gon’ come through and make it right, but somebody else might not play fair. Somebody else might touch you or B or Eazy. I was never touching you, though. Touching you is like touching myself.”

At twenty-one, she was a bit older, a bit wiser, a bit tarnished, and she held some resentments. She couldn’t deny that she loved him still. Even after 912 days, he made her entire body react just by being in her vicinity. He activated her spirit whenever he was around. She didn’t know what to say to him, what to do with him.

“There is a part of me that’s going to always wonder what we could have been, Messiah, but there is also a part of me that will always wonder who I could have been if Mizan had never come into my sister’s life. If my daddy and my mama and Raven were alive, and I had them. When I look at you now, I see him. I don’t know how I didn’t see him in you before. The anger issues, the quick temper. I’ve always been afraid of him, Messiah. I used to be extra good when he was home. Try to be extra nice to him so he wouldn’t get mad and blow up on my sister. He thought I liked him, because I used to pretend to try to keep him in a good mood so he wouldn’t hurt her. I was terrified of him, though, and with you being here, it’s like I’m a little-ass girl again, staring at him, pretending that my heart isn’t in my throat. I’m afraid of you now, Messiah.”

“I have a man, Messiah,” she said as she shook her head. He thought she was talking about Bash, but her heart had given the title to Ahmeek. Ahmeek was her man. Yes, she was trapped by Bash, but she was trying to figure out how to escape. One day, when she was able to break free, she would be Ahmeek Harris’s woman. “And I ain’t shit because I’m here with you. He doesn’t deserve this. I’ve got to go,” she said.

“This is a private dinner; I doubt that’s appropriate,” Christiana added. “And since I’m the hostess and you’re a guest, I don’t really think your approval is required,” Alani said.

“Stop while you’re ahead,” Ethic added,

“Not the time nor place,” Ethic said in a low tone that only Ahmeek could hear.

She needed to tell the truth and ask Ethic for help, but fear stopped her. Fear that he would hate her for exposing his secrets in the first place, fear that he would think she’d done it to be vindictive against his marriage. Fear of being shunned by him altogether. She had pillow talked to Bash in a moment of insecurity, and she was terrified it would be considered betrayal.

She was in a roomful of people, and no one heard her screams. It was as if she were deaf all over again. Nobody heard her. She was saying no, but no one understood her language.

“Yo, the flex is unbecoming,”

“You’re in your feelings, so I’ma let you get that off. Don’t feel good, do it? Watching somebody you fuck with heavy give love to somebody that ain’t you? It drive you a little crazy, right? Got your blood boiling thinking about me putting my lips on the same places I put them on you? Got you putting together shit in your head that make your chest ache.”

“You’re a ho, and I knew you were a ho before I let you in. Ain’t nothing special about a whack-ass nigga that’s giving out one-size-fits-all dick.”

“You have to tell me what we talking about here, Mo. Keep it a buck with me, cuz it sounds to me like you giving niggas too much power. It sounds like you’re going to a place that you almost didn’t make it back from last time, and that’s never going to happen with me around. Good or bad terms, I’m never going to pretend like I don’t see the shit and let you fucking drown, so tell me. Is this for attention, or is this for real? I’m with it either way. You got problems, I got answers, love, either fucking way. You want attention, I got that for you. I got that all day for you. I’ll pay real close attention, Morgan Atkins.”

“If it’s something else, if this is serious, if you’re in trouble, I need to know. You said you would come to me if you felt like that again. Niggas don’t deserve you. Not even me, love.” He brought his face so close to hers that Morgan sobbed. “What the fuck, Mo? Stop letting niggas ruin you. You’re so much better, man. You’re so fucking good, yo. I’d love the shit out of you if you let me.”

“Why are you with her?” she cried. “Why ain’t I with you is the better question?” he shot back. “Because I can’t be, Meekie. Just leave it alone. Forget we even happened.” Morgan sobbed.

“I saw how you looked at her. I’ve known ever since that night in the club. When she’s around, it’s like nothing else even matters. I’ve been down for years. Why don’t you feel that for me?”

“Cuz now that I see what you’ll give the next bitch that ain’t even half of me, I want more.”

She was just in a jam, a trap, a maze that she couldn’t find her way out of, and she couldn’t ask for help. It was something she had to figure out alone. She understood his impatience. It didn’t stop it from hurting, however.

I love Messiah, I do; I can’t help that or stop that. It’s a history I can’t rewrite. Even if I could, I don’t know if I would because I wouldn’t know you, Ahmeek. If I didn’t hurt with him, I wouldn’t know what it feels like to heal with you. I have a situation with Bash. It feels like I can’t help that or stop that either. I’m sorry about all of that, but none of that stops me from thinking about you. I know I don’t deserve you. I don’t, because I’m wasting you, but every day, I think about you. Every day, I dream about you. Every other man that you think I put over you has created storms in my life. You’re the calm. You’re my peace. I just can’t get to you.”

I will murder that nigga, Morgan. I don’t want to because it’s reckless, and it’s out of emotion, not necessity, but I will—but then what? Then there’s Messiah. A nigga you telling me you still love and one I can’t just put down. I can’t erase him, Morgan, cuz I love that nigga. He is me. A blood pact at ten fucking years old. The nigga DNA is somewhere in me. You got me out here at war with my man over you, and I’m like, fuck it, cuz you worth fighting for, but you ain’t even fucking here. You ain’t even mine. You ain’t nobody’s, Mo. You for everybody.”

You got me out here at war with my man over you, and I’m like, fuck it, cuz you worth fighting for, but you ain’t even fucking here. You ain’t even mine. You ain’t nobody’s, Mo. You for everybody.”

He was on some bullshit, and he knew it and he didn’t stop it. He was destroying her simply to break the connection they shared.

He knew it hurt her because it made a grown man feel like crying, but if she wasn’t going to stay for good, then he had to end it.