Page 60 of Butterfly 6, Phase 1

“Do I make your heartbeat fast like that?” he asked. He was almost afraid of the answer. This tiny human was the biggest boss he had ever met, and he was petrified of her. She had the power to crush him.

“No,” she signed, shooting him a glare. “I make your heart beat fast.”

Messiah laughed at that. His baby was putting down the law. She had so much fire inside her. Yara wouldn’t be pushed around, that was for damn sure, and he prayed that she got to grow into the confidence and fearlessness she carried.

Messiah had so many irons in the fire, but he couldn’t focus on anything besides his baby girl. Bleu wouldn’t answer his calls. Morgan was full of resentment. His new business was open, but he was glued to this hospital and couldn’t check on things. The Crew had completely fallen apart. On top of that, it felt like Ethic was benching him. He had always run down the plays at Ethic’s order, but he had been remanded to this room, his only task to oversee Yara’s care. It didn’t feel right sitting idle while Morgan was under scrutiny for something she didn’t do.

His phone rang, and Messiah answered the call on the first ring when he saw Morgan’s face on his screen.

“Shorty, you don’t even know how I been waiting on your call,” he said. “Everything straight?”

“I’m not sure really, but they let me go. How is my baby?” Morgan asked.

“She’s a champ,” Messiah reported. “She’s finally awake. She’s still kind of lethargic, but she’s not completely out of it right now. She’s on her iPad and humbling a nigga all at the same time.”

“Tell her to humble you a little more for her mama,” Morgan said with sarcastic amusement in her voice.

“Shit, you do that enough yourself,” Messiah bantered.

“I’ll be up there soon. I’m waiting for Aria to bring Messari home so I can lay my eyes on him. I feel bad that he can’t be up there with us.”

“Kiss my boy for me,” Messiah said. “Tell him Daddy loves him.”

“I will,” she replied. He heard the smile in her tone, and he wished he could see it. “I just don’t want him to get lost in all this. It seems like we’ll be spending a lot of time away from him. We’ll need to balance this somehow.”

“I know, man, but I don’t feel like I can leave my daughter’s side,” Messiah admitted. He didn’t have a favorite twin, but the severity of the situation commanded his full attention.

“I know what you mean,” Morgan agreed. “He’s a mama’s boy, though. If she doesn’t come home soon, we’ll need to swap out, take shifts with them both.”

“If that’s the only option, we’ll have to do what we got to do,” Messiah said. “For now, he’s safe, he’s healthy, and he’s with family. I’ma shoot Eazy some bread. Have him download a new game or something to keep Messari distracted.”

They both lingered on the phone, trapped in an awkward space, letting things go unsaid. It was sad when two people who loved one another slowly became strangers. Lovers scorned, turned off by choice after choice that pulled them further apart, when in a perfect world, they would be inseparable. Neither knew how to engage. Once the conversation about their children was done, where did they go? Parenthood was safe ground. They had to discuss the dilemmas involving their offspring. It was the beauty in the twins’ existence. They had gone half on them. Yara and Messari were their forever link, and proof that somewhere deep down in their fucked up-ness, innocence had once existed.

“I want to get their last names changed, Mo. If my daughter dies, I want to be able to call her mine, shorty. If I have to bury my baby, at least let me share the name we put on her head stone. It has to say Williams not Atkins. I made perfection. I’m no fucking good, never have been, but they came from me. Something good came from me. You can’t take that from me.”

“We’ll add your name,” Morgan answered sadly.

Her answer surprised him. He had been prepared to stand his ground, but the understanding he saw in her eyes made him love her so much more. It didn’t matter how mad Morgan was or how much someone hurt her she always had love to give. The girl was just made of love. He hated he had been the one to hurt her first. A woman never came back the same after her first lifechanging heart break. He would always mourn the version of her that he fumbled, but this uncontested yes, was a glimpse of the girl she used to be. That yes came from the part of her that would do anything for him. He felt tender on the inside at the thought of that girl still being inside her somewhere.

“Shit is crazy,” he said as he admired Yara Rae. “She’s an angel, Mo,” Messiah said, his voice cracking under the weight of grief. “What He bring me back for if all I was going to do is lose everything? If she dies, it’s going to kill me, Mo. My heart feels like its barely beating.” He touched his chest, beating on it like he was trying to get it to work.

“Stop, Messiah. Stop talking like that. We don’t even know how bad it is. Don’t plan her funeral without giving Yolly a chance. My girl is a fighter! Aria says I have to have faith. I have to believe in Yolly.” Morgan’s voice trembled. “I have to. She’s weak so I have to be strong…” Morgan was cracking as she spoke Aria’s words. She was trying them on to see if they fit her. They didn’t sound as confident coming out of her mouth.

“Why would you even put that in the atmosphere?” Morgan shrieked.

Messiah sat up and pulled his trembling lip into his mouth, and he stepped away from the bed, making sure Yara couldn’t see his face. He blew out a sharp breath. “I’m fucked up, shorty,” he cried, unable to stop the unusual sound that escaped his stressed lips. His face collapsed, but Messiah choked himself on the ruin, tucking it all back in as he forced self-composure. “Aw, man,” he whispered, restoring his wall.

“Messiah,” Morgan sniveled. “If our daughter dies, I’ll never be the same. I need you to be the Messiah I’ve always known. You ain’t scared of shit, and you don’t back down. You coming after everything that’s a threat before it touches you. I want to see this side of you. I’ve prayed to break down your walls and understand you from the inside out, but not right now. Right now, I need the version of you that knows how to survive. You beat this before. You know what to do. If you break, I’m going to break, and then we’ll lose her. Stop giving up! Why are you giving up, Ssiah?” He clenched his eyes shut when those SSs turned to ZZs. Morgan’s voice was pleading, crying for him. He hadn’t heard her plead for something like that since the day he blew town. She had begged him just like this, begged him to act like the man she had come to know. She was doing the same now. She didn’t want his weakness. She wanted his strength.

Messiah’s head hung low, chin to chest, back to his daughter as Morgan spoke to him.

“You’re the strongest person I know,” she said. “Nothing can beat you. You’re the biggest, Messiah. You’ve saved me every time…” Sorrow tore her voice apart mid-sentence. “Just knowing how you would come behind me made me stronger. I talked louder. Walked harder. I wasn’t afraid of anything because I had you, and you’re not afraid of anything. You kept me safe. You stood up for me. You protected me. You’ve killed for me, Ssiah. You’d run through a brick wall for me. You slay giants over me, no hesitation. You have to be that for her. Be fearless for her. You’re her father! You are the one who has to stay strong because I can’t. I’m trying to, but I’m terrified, and if this gets bad like you say it will, I will break. I don’t need you to be my hero anymore. Be hers.”

Chapter 17

“All There” by Jeezy x Bankroll Fresh

Henny walked through the dormitory, chin up, and eyes shifting around the room. Henny’s chest felt empty. He used to have so much hope in his heart, so much life in his soul. He used to laugh. He used to joke. He used to smile. He couldn’t quite connect his body to any emotion anymore. He didn’t even want to feel the negative things. He wanted to feel nothing. No hope. No fear. Nothing. Learning how to turn everything off was the only way he could make it through his day. Ever since the judge had sentenced him, he had felt numb. He had started out in a temporary unit until his permanent placement was determined, and now that he had touched down at the place he’d spend the next seven years of his life, the notion that he wasn’t going home made him regret every drug he had ever touched in his life. He was in shock, and it hadn’t left him yet. Henny felt like a specimen under a microscope. Hundreds of eyes sized him up. He could feel the men behind their cells hawking him. They stood behind their doors, staring through their peepholes, some kicked on the steel doors as the newbies entered the pod. Others howled. Some cat called. He had been able to stay out of the way so far, but he had no idea how this unit ran, and he was fighting his own body to not react fearfully. He was trying not to shake, trying not to let his eyes betray him because if he cried, he would become a target. He couldn’t let anybody smell weakness on him in here. It was dog-eat-dog.