Page 23 of Butterfly 6, Phase 1

“I can do it,” Morgan asserted. “Let’s just continue.”

“You should step out, Mr. Okafor,” Einstein suggested. “She won’t have you as a crutch when dealing with the police, so she should get accustomed to doing this on her own.”

Ethic didn’t like it, but he knew Einstein was right. He retreated to the hallway, giving Morgan one last glance before shutting the door behind him. He pulled out his burner phone and paced the hall as he dialed out. As soon as the call connected, Ethic spoke. It was a shoulder he never thought he would tap, but in this game of life, he learned that all pieces needed to be moved around the board strategically. Ahmeek Harris.

“Is everything smooth on your end?” Ethic asked.

“Every duck is in a row. I’m ready for motion whenever you say go. Have they come for her yet?”

Ethic wasn’t fond of the man on the other end of the phone, but they shared a commonality. They shared a love for Morgan that reassured him that Ahmeek would play his part to keep her safe.

“Not yet, but the wolves are closing in. It won’t be long. She’ll be ready, just make sure you are. I need her alive, and most important, cooperative,” Ethic stated.

“Understood,” Ahmeek answered. “Is she good?”

Ethic hesitated. He knew the “she” Ahmeek spoke of. It wasn’t his place to inform Ahmeek of Morgan’s family circumstances. He simply asked, “What are your intentions with Mo?”

The question was ill-timed, and Ahmeek was unprepared to answer it. His silence revealed a lot to Ethic, and he continued. “Because she came home from Miami with more burden. She’s emotional. She’s high, then she’s low. She’s trying to hold it together, but her feelings are bleeding all over the place. She’s been here before, and I’m still nursing wounds from that situation. I won’t allow it again.”

“If Morgan would just trust a nigga, you wouldn’t have to nurse shit. I’d make sure that girl never had to worry about anything, and I mean fucking anything, another day of her life. She ain’t the only one who left Miami in her head. My intentions are always good when it comes to her. We won’t have an issue about that. About other shit, I’m sure, but about me mistreating her? Nah, that’s never going to be a conversation we have,” Ahmeek stated. “I got some commitments that she ain’t equipped to handle. That’s why she’s upset.”

“What kind of commitments?” Ethic asked, defensively.

Ahmeek scoffed. “We really having this conversation, OG? I would think you would be pleased that we ain’t rocking right now.”

“I’m pleased when she’s pleased and she ain’t pleased. What commitments?” Ethic asked.

“A possible baby on the way,” Ahmeek answered truthfully.

Ethic couldn’t judge that. He knew how this had happened. The money, the power, the women flowed in abundance for men like Ahmeek, and until a man learned discipline, it was easy to get caught up. It complicated an already complicated situation. He had been there.

“A commitment indeed,” Ethic shot back. The line went cold, and Ethic thought of Morgan. “A man who handles his business can walk and chew gum. The father you are to your child shouldn’t detract from the man you are to your woman.”

“Hmm,” Ahmeek responded, pondering the notion. “Tell Mo that.”

Ethic was a man who read people well, and there was no misconstruing Ahmeek’s affinity for Morgan. He hated it, but he acknowledged it. It was a strange position to be in for Ethic.

Messiah was more than his shooter. He had become family. They shared a bond that toed the line of brotherhood/fatherhood, and despite Messiah’s shortcomings, Messiah was the one Ethic trusted. Even executing this plan to save Morgan felt odd without Messiah, but Messiah was also in need of protection. He was no longer the soldier that Ethic could risk because he was the father of his grandchildren.

Ahmeek didn’t belong to him. Ethic didn’t know his creed. Ethic couldn’t attest to his character, nor could he speak to how thorough Ahmeek was. All he knew was that Ahmeek had amassed some respect in the city and that a few good disciples of Benny Atkins had vouched for Ahmeek’s father. He didn’t doubt that Ahmeek was capable. He knew Messiah would have never done dirt with Ahmeek if he wasn’t certified, but Ethic didn’t get in the dirt with just anybody. Being this exposed in Ahmeek’s presence posed a significant threat to Ethic. Ahmeek was no longer going off old wives’ tales of Ethic’s infamy; he was witnessing it. This was a different level of access. If Ahmeek hadn’t been on Ethic’s roster before, the work he was putting in now to save Morgan qualified him. He now had a position within Ethic’s kingdom, and it was a bit too close for comfort.

“I won’t pretend to understand how you fell for your best friend’s girl. She’s the mother of his kids. That, alone, should have made her off limits to you,” Ethic said sternly, “But I’ve crossed plenty lines for women I’ve loved. If you ever hurt her in any way…”

“She’s the best human being I know. I just want her safe. I just want her happy. Even if that can’t happen with me. You don’t owe me shit, but if you could tell her that…”

Ethic didn’t miss the sacrifice, and his stubborn resolve toward Ahmeek shifted slightly. He knew then and there what the difference was between the two men Morgan had dubbed as suitors. Messiah couldn’t see Morgan enjoying life with another man. It wasn’t a bad thing. It was just how he was built. To witness Morgan love another was damaging to Messiah. It stole all joy from Messiah’s life. Ethic understood that. He felt that way for Alani. He was selfish in the way he loved his wife, and he was unapologetic about it. He would murder any man who attempted to come after him without losing sleep. He also understood Ahmeek’s love for Morgan being strong enough to put her needs before his own. He wanted to see her fulfilled, even if that meant walking away. Ethic had experienced that with a different woman, Disaya Morgan. In a different universe, YaYa could have been the woman he spent a lifetime with. He knew Morgan needed to hear what was unsaid by Ahmeek. Morgan needed to hear it all. Growing up without the ability to hear made auditory confessions of love extremely important to her. She had been starved of it her entire life. Ethic couldn’t be the messenger. She needed it from the source. She deserved to hear it from Ahmeek.

“After this is done, you should tell her yourself,” Ethic stated. “For now, keep your head in the game.”

“Careful, you might break character, OG. I know where your loyalties lie,” Ahmeek reminded.

“My loyalties lie with Morgan. Always.”

Sitting vigilantly over the sick and shut-in was a part of the job. Nyair had never been sensitive to the weight that his congregation carried. He couldn’t be. If he internalized the trauma of every person who came to him in need of emotional help, he would adopt so many demons. It took some detachment to stand at the front of a pulpit and preach to hundreds each week. It took leadership and a trust in God that was unshakeable. As he stepped into the hospital room of Yara Rae Atkins, he felt the heaviest blow as it landed upon the armor of God. The room was stifled with fear as two parents faced a notion that the creators of tiny humans should never have to face. They didn’t even have to tell him it was bad. All parents spoke the same silent language when the unthinkable became the unavoidable. You had to be careful how you mishandled another person because God would force allyship one way or another. Yara’s sickness had forced them to flip to the same page in the book of life. They couldn’t see eye to eye before, now sorrow had them facing one another as they went regret for regret in their minds.

“Thanks for coming, Ny,” Morgan said, exhaustion clinging to her tone as she stood and gave him a halfhearted hug. He knew she couldn’t do anything with her whole heart under these circumstances. “You just missed Ethic.”

“Of course, Mo. I came as soon as I saw the message. My phone was on DND last night,” Nyair answered, his loyalty evident in his tone as if not coming wasn’t even an option. “I saw E on his way out.”