“Bitch!” Aria yelled. Aria grabbed a mic from the DJ. “Ayeeeee,” she said. The entire crowd joined her in hyping Mo up. Morgan took off like Aria was Phil Jackson and she was Kobe in the fourth quarter. Mo forgot about all insecurities; those nude-colored shorts might as well have been invisible because the way her ass was moving had everyone in the crowd bothered. Morgan was dancing so hard that sweat dripped everywhere. Her mouth curled up in an arrogant sneer. She felt these words … felt this beat.
Fucked up for a minute, now I’m back to flexin’
Morgan smiled and lifted her head to the sky as she lifted her hands, opening them wide like energy was entering her body. This felt amazing. It felt like her identity was back. Like she had forgotten who she was for two years and this stage, this crowd, was reminding her.
I run up my haters going ghost, I hope God don’t let me do the most
Morgan brought praying hands to her chin and bounced them there before one hand went to her hip and the other in the sky like she held that Moschino scarf. Roll. Mo turned to the back, and the crowd roared because they knew what was next. Twerk!
Out of nowhere, her babies bolted onto the stage, and Morgan smiled as Messari began dancing. The crowd turned up higher. It was the cutest thing anyone had ever seen. Aria laughed and joined Messari as Morgan picked up Yara. She took her daughter to the speakers. She knew that Yara couldn’t join in until she felt the subwoofers. She placed Yara’s hand on the speaker and then did a bop to the beat while her daughter smiled. Morgan took her back-center stage and put her down, and Yara took off, dancing with her brother under the bright lights.
“Mo Money, everybody! Stiletto Gang in this bitch!”
White Boy Nick skipped back out onto the stage along with the other dancers, and they all formed a circle around Ssari and Yara, clapping, dancing, and encouraging them as they danced. Morgan had never received love like this. The crowd was on another level, and she picked up Yara as Aria grabbed her son. They waved.
“Say hi!” Mo signed to Yara. Yara waved shyly, then hugged her mother’s neck, overwhelmed. Messari, on the other hand, ate up the spotlight, waving and blowing kisses to the crowd. Such a charmer.
Morgan retreated backstage to their dressing room where Isa and Ahmeek sat waiting.
“The fuck! Them babies murdered everything,” Isa said, laughing as he lifted a Styrofoam cup to his lips. He grabbed Aria, pulling her into him roughly. “We need to go make a couple of them. I want two like yesterday. Fucking dancing-ass twins. Cute-ass mu’fucking kids.” He snickered.
Morgan hollered, “Where is Bash? How did they even end up onstage?” she asked.
“Corny-ass nigga left,” Isa said.
“He left my babies backstage and walked out?” Morgan asked, eyes narrowing into slits. Morgan rushed to her bag and dug through it until she found her phone. She held Yara on one hip and put the phone to her ear.
“Have you lost your mind? Why would you leave them backstage alone? What the fuck were you thinking?” Morgan screamed the words as her heart raged. Her eyes burned. She was a crier. Whenever she was angry, she cried, and she hated it in this moment. “I didn’t plan to go onstage! It just happened! And that doesn’t fucking excuse the fact that you left my kids alone, backstage, around motherfuckers they don’t even know!”
She paused as Bash responded. All eyes were on her, but she didn’t care. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“Oh, now you want to come back to get them? Don’t bother!” Morgan ended the call and tossed her phone on the vanity in front of her. She rushed into the bathroom.
Yara’s hands on her face, then her little lips on her cheek reminded Morgan to breathe. She hugged her daughter. She knew that Yara processed everything. She soaked up other people’s energy, and Mo didn’t want her to feel anything other than peace.
She sat her on the sink and signed, “Mommy is okay. You did so good, Yolly Pop! You danced so beautifully!”
“Thank you, Mommy,” Yara signed.
Morgan smiled. Yara was so intelligent. So sharp. She was learning her signs at record pace, and Morgan was so proud to be her mother.
A knock at the door interrupted them, and Morgan pulled a paper towel from the dispenser, wetting it.
“One second!” she called out.
She blotted her face. It was still red from crying, but she couldn’t hide in the bathroom forever. She lifted Yara and snatched open the door.
Ahmeek stood there, brow knitted in concern, eyes locked in on hers.
“You good?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Words, Mo. If you’re good, tell me you’re good. If you ain’t, all it takes is a word and it’s handled,” he whispered. “You know that.”
Morgan sighed in relief. “How could he leave them?”
“They were fine, Mo. They were safe,” Meek stated. “Eyes on them at all times.”
They were standing in the threshold that separated the bathroom from the dressing room. He was keeping her there until he saw her worry dissipate. “Fuck that nigga, Mo. Tonight’s about you. You’re a fucking star, love, and you shined. The twins too.” He snickered. He pulled out his phone and held it up for Mo to see. “You’re everywhere, love. Niggas is spreading love. Don’t let anybody dim that light.” A popular gossip account had reposted a clip of Mo’s performance. She was going viral.
She smiled.
Yara leaned lazily against Morgan’s cheek and groaned as a big yawn left her mouth. “I’ve got to get them to bed,” she whispered. “Can you drop me at the hotel?”
“Yeah, whatever you need, Mo,” he said as he stepped aside.
“You okay?” Aria asked.
Morgan nodded. “I’m fine. I’m going to get the kids back. I’ll catch up with you when we get back, okay?”
“Do you want to stay in my suite tonight?” Aria asked.
Morgan shook her head. “I’m fine,” she said.
Aria stood removing a key card from her purse. She handed it to Mo. “Just in case he’s on some bullshit and you don’t feel like arguing.”
“Won’t be no arguing,” Ahmeek stated.
Aria jerked her neck back. “Mmkay, Ahmeek! Step, then!” she instigated. Morgan took the room key anyway and gave Aria a departing hug. She hugged Isa too, then walked out with Ahmeek, who carried Messari.
His hand to the small of her back acted as a guide until they were outside. He didn’t speak, neither did she, but Messari was full of conversation.
“Hey, you! Wook!” Messari pointed to the fountains across the street. The Bellagio was beautiful at night, and Messari was fully invested in the waterworks going off in the distance.
“His name is Meek, Ssari. Can you say Meek?”
Messari nodded. “Wook, Meek!”
“I’m wooking, homie,” Ahmeek answered, chuckling.
“Go see!” Messari said, turning Meek’s head in the direction of the show.
“I guess we’re going to see the fountains,” Meek said.
Morgan sighed. “It’s late, and I’m barely dressed. I’m wearing stage clothes.”
“Yeah, we need to talk about that too, Mo. You really fucking showing out. Got me ready to put the burner to a nigga out here,” he said. “You know what you do.”
Morgan snickered as she watched him put Messari down and remove his jacket. He placed it around her shoulders, then he leaned to grab Messari’s hand.
“Come on, Mommy!” Messari said.
“Yeah, Mommy, come on,” Meek instigated.
Morgan looked at Yara. “You want to see the fountains?” Morgan signed.
Yara nodded, sleepy, but Mo knew she would last. She sighed, adjusted the jacket, and walked beside Meek.
They took the bridge across Las Vegas Boulevard, and Messari took off running as fast as his little legs would carry him. Meek took off after him, scooping him, then tossing him so high into the air that Morgan’s heart tensed in worry. Meek caught him effortlessly, then pla
ced Messari on his shoulders. He held on to Messari’s legs to keep him secure. Morgan smiled as she caught up.
“Don’t do that,” Meek said.
“Do what?” she asked.
“Fake smile,” he stated as they found a spot in the center to watch the show. Morgan turned her eyes to the man-made lake in front of the hotel.
“I just don’t want to fight with him,” she whispered. “But I want to dance too. I want to dance with Stiletto Gang.”
“So dance, Mo,” he said. “Medical school will be there if you choose to pursue it later. No offense, but I don’t want a doctor working on me that don’t love medicine. You’re supposed to be passionate about saving lives like you are about being onstage.”
“I guess,” she said, shrugging. She hoisted Yara up on her hip. “She’s not going to make it until the next show.” Yara’s little eyes were closing, and he took her from Mo’s hands.
“They run every few minutes or so,” he said. “I’ve got her.”
“Come on, Mommy’s Ssari,” Morgan said, pulling Messari off Meek’s shoulders and placing him on his feet.
“He was fine. I can handle your babies, Mo,” he said.
“I can see that,” she answered, amazed at how good with them he truly was. A smile melted on her face.
“Don’t do that either,” he said.
“What now?” she asked.
“The real smile stops my heart, Morgan Atkins. Bring the fake shit back.”
Morgan’s entire body warmed. She leaned her head on his shoulder. “You make me feel…” She stopped speaking and sighed. She couldn’t finish that sentence, and she was grateful when he didn’t push.
“Wook, Mommy!” Messari shouted.
The fountains erupted, and Morgan reached for her daughter, who was sleeping against Meek’s chest. “Look, Yolly Pop!” Yara turned to the lights, then turned her head in the opposite direction, going right back to sleep.
Ahmeek laughed with Mo as she picked up Messari to give him a better view.
“Wooooowwwww!”
Morgan loved his excitement. Meek did too. He smiled more than Morgan had ever witnessed before as he watched Messari’s reactions. When it was over, Messari reached for Mo and nestled on her shoulder.
“Do you feel like walking back? I know your car is in valet at the club, but—”
“It’s cool, Mo. We can walk,” he interrupted. “It’s whatever you want to do.”
They strolled down the lively street, laughing and talking. Mo wasn’t in a rush to get to the drama. She stopped to stroll through the different hotels along the way. It took them two hours to walk a half mile. She didn’t even care that her feet were aching; her soul was glowing.
“You’re staying here, right?” she asked.
He nodded. “I’m in 2514,” he stated. “I’ll walk you to your suite. Make sure you and the twins are good.”
Morgan shook her head. “That’s not necessary, Meek.”
“You’re going to carry two sleeping toddlers upstairs by yourself?” he asked. He headed toward the elevators before she could even respond.
Yara stirred in his arms as they stepped inside, and he placed a comforting hand on her back, rubbing gently, then patting as he bounced a little. Morgan swooned.
“You’re going to make some girl very happy one day, Ahmeek. You’re a beautiful man.” Morgan sighed, shaking her head.
Ahmeek’s brows lifted, and amusement played in his eyes. “I’ve been called a lot of shit before, Mo. An ain’t-shit nigga, that nigga, Daddy, but never that … never beautiful.” He chuckled. “I don’t know if I like that too much.”
One of those real smiles that he hated blessed her face. He stood next to her, leaning against the back of the elevator. “Now that,” he said, looking at her lips. “That smile. That’s beautiful.” She blushed. “Me. I’m a real nigga.”
“Yup,” she agreed. “A real, beautiful-ass nigga.”
He hollered, and she shared in the laughter. Two sleeping babies didn’t stop them from gravitating to each other. Morgan turned to him, and he leaned down. A moth to a flame. Morgan knew she was flying toward danger, and still her eyes closed.
“I can’t breathe, Meek,” she whispered. Their lips. So close. His breath. So sweet. She waited, waited for the kiss. Her body was going haywire. Her insides malfunctioning, screaming.
“Can I kiss you, Mo?” Ahmeek whispered. He was so close that he was already kissing her. The movement of his lips as he spoke the words caused their lips to grace in the slightest way. A match that set her soul on fire.
“Everywhere.” The word was so airy he barely heard it.
One hand was occupied by a toddler, and he wished it were free because he wanted to do things with it. He had plans for that hand. One would have to do. A fist to her hair and a slight pull craned her neck back.
Morgan withered under his command. He was so aggressive. So rough. She loved it. His lips barely graced hers as Yara stirred, crying, and on cue, the slightest whimper from his sister awakened Messari every time. Two toddlers, tired and screaming, interrupted them. Morgan pulled back, and the doors opened.
Morgan stepped out. When Ahmeek went to follow, she stopped him. “No. You—” Morgan stumbled, panicking as she maneuvered out of his hold and held out a hand to keep him at arm’s distance. “No, Meek. No,” she whispered. She put Yara on her feet and took Messari from Meek’s arms.
“Morgan—”
“Ahmeek, if we keep playing … if we keep pretending like this is just friendly just to make ourselves feel better, we’re going to go too far,” she whispered.
He held the elevator door open. “Too far for who?” he asked.
“For everyone!” She shouted that part.
Her twins were whining, pulling at her, crying.
“Mo, let me help you,” he said, reaching for her son.
Morgan snatched his hand. “Ahmeek. I can’t take it there. I just can’t, and you’re literally everything I want, but I can’t, and if I keep pretending like we’re just friends, if you keep coming around with Isa or if I keep coming with Aria, I’m going to…” She paused as she shook her head. She didn’t even know what Meek saw in her. She came with hella baggage. She was holding on to her baggage at this very moment, and that was only the baggage that could be seen. The emotional baggage was heavier. It was impossible for someone else to carry. She could barely handle it herself.
“You’re gonna what?” he pushed.
“Fuck you! I’m going to fuck you, Ahmeek. You’re going to turn me into a whole hoe, and I don’t want to be a hoe! I’m already a little hoe-ish for the shit you did to me at your loft. I don’t want to be a whole hoe. Right now, I’m half a hoe, and I need to keep some self-respect.”
Meek couldn’t hide his amusement as he finessed his chin. She was throwing a fit, and he found it completely fucking adorable. If she was trying to convince him not to pass go, she was failing miserably.
Morgan slapped his chest. “It’s not funny!” she whined.
He snickered. “It kind of is, Mo. Shit’s fucking hilarious.”
She laughed too, shaking her head. The elevator began to ding repeatedly from being held up.
“Good night,” Mo said, pleading with him with just her eyes to walk away.
“Night, love,” he answered. He pressed the button, and the elevator closed. Morgan breathed a sigh of relief before leading her babies to her room.
“Where you been, Mo?” Bash’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard.
“Let me put the twins down,” she said.
He was on her heels as she took them to the bedroom. “Your phone don’t work?” he pressed.
Morgan turned abruptly. “I’m not talking about anything until my kids are asleep, Bash.”
“I just want to know where you were.”
Morgan could see that waiting wasn’t an option. “I was with Ahmeek. After you left, the kids ran out onstage—”
“Oh, I know. It’s al
l over the internet. My mother called. Do you know how ridiculous this looks for my family? My fiancée half-naked onstage! My family’s name is prestigious, Morgan. You have to think about everything you do before you do it.”
“You act like I’m a stripper!” Morgan shouted.
He motioned to her clothes. “Look at you, Morgan! You might as well be.”
Morgan recoiled, jerking her neck back so hard that it hurt. She scoffed in disgust, shaking her head. “I’m not staying here tonight,” she said. “I might not be staying with you at all.” She reached for her suitcase and scooped Yara in her arms. “Come on, Messari.” Messari shimmied down off the bed, following Mo without question. Bash scooped him up.
“Put my fucking son down!” Morgan shouted. “You left them backstage with strangers!”
“Don’t be dramatic. Your friends were there,” Bash said.
“You don’t even know them! I know them! You don’t! But you can get to know them real well if you keep trying me!” Morgan had snapped.
“I’m not afraid of your little thugs from Flint. You’ve always been real easy to impress. I’ve given you access to the whole world, Mo, and you want to shake your ass onstage like you’re for sale!” Bash screamed. “I wasn’t watching that.”
“So, you left my children unattended? They’re two years old! You left them because you were pissed that I chose to dance with Stiletto Gang? Nah, this is because I made a decision of my own for the first time in two years! I didn’t do what you or your mother wanted me to. I did what I wanted to, and you left me hanging! And now I’m a stripper? When you met me, I was dancing! You used to act real cool, real chill, Bash, like you was a good kid from around the way. Now I embarrass your family? Fuck you, and fuck your family!”
Morgan released the bag and grabbed Messari from Bash’s arms.
“Where are you going, Mo? I apologize. I should have—”
Morgan seated Messari on the top of the suitcase. “Hold on for Mommy, okay? I’m going to take you on a ride. It’ll be fun, but you have to hold tight.”
Butterfly Page 18
