Prologue
The fog was dense as Messiah maneuvered his car through the state park. The sun had barely risen. Orange and purple painted the sky as life began to awaken. He gripped the steering wheel with one hand and kept his other on the pistol in his lap. He knew there was no point in carrying it. He wouldn’t use it. Not on this day. Not on this man. He had tried before to curl a trigger on this target but had failed. He wasn’t stupid enough to make the attempt again. He saw the red taillights to a silver F-150 and then saw Ethic as the driver’s door opened. Stern and moody, Ethic appeared as he always did. Intolerant. Intimidating. He went to the bed of the truck and released the gate. He began to unload buckets and fishing poles, and bait from the back.
“This shit, man,” Messiah mumbled as he pulled in behind the truck. Messiah knew better than to exit the car with his pistol. He stored it under his seat and climbed out, slamming the door.
“It’s 6 a.m. man. We couldn’t do this at no better time?” Messiah asked as he frowned.
“Fish bite best at dawn,” Ethic stated.
Messiah hated the skeptical eye Ethic looked at him with. It was a new light. Ethic had never looked at him with such mistrust two years ago. It made Messiah feel like he wore his betrayal on his forehead. A scarlet letter of disdain that he feared he would never be able to shake.
“Grab that bait,” Ethic instructed.
Messiah snatched up the bucket and followed Ethic down the dock to the boat that sat tied to the end.
“You bought a boat?” Messiah asked.
“For Alani. She wanted one. Something to take the kids out on. She picked this mu’fucka out and it just sits, so I took up fishing to justify the expense,” Ethic said as he climbed aboard. It was a beautiful vessel with a bar, two berths for sleeping, and living space beneath.
“You’ll do anything for her, huh, O.G.?” Messiah asked.
“Whatever she asks, whenever she asks. That’s my job. To anticipate her needs before she even knows she needs something. I’m her man so that’s my role. She’ll never want for anything with me, not even attention, not even time. The money is cool but the things I can’t buy she appreciates most. It’s why I buy her everything else too, cuz she don’t give a fuck about it.”
Messiah didn’t know what to say. He hoped to have something like that one day. Even his hope for it was progress because there was a time when Messiah didn’t want that type of connection with another human being at all. Now he craved it. Now he yearned for it. With Mo. Damn how Messiah Williams wanted to buy Morgan Atkins a boat.
Ethic got in the captain’s seat and the motor came alive, chopping up the water beneath them. They didn’t speak as Ethic sailed away from the shore. Messiah took a seat at the aft, leaning over onto his knees, hands rubbing as he held his head low. He was lost, completely drowned in his own thoughts. He didn’t even realize how far out they had gotten until he heard Ethic cut the engine.
He looked around as Ethic lowered the anchor.
“You know why we came out here?” Ethic asked.
Messiah bit into his bottom lip and nodded. “You’re trying to decide if I’m going to stay out here,” he answered. He had known the moment he had seen the boat. They could have fished from the bridge. Ethic had taken him out for tranquility. It was a perfect morning to commit a murder and the lake was a suitable resting place. Messiah was on thin ice. He knew it and still he willingly joined Ethic on this early morning boat ride. It would either be his funeral procession or his walk of redemption. Ethic would decide which. There was no avoiding it.
“You’re well? You feeling a’ight?” Ethic broke the silence as he turned his chair to face Messiah.
“I’m breathing,” Messiah answered. “For now.”
An awkward silence. Then a scoff of acknowledgment from Ethic and more silence as Ethic stood. He grabbed the poles and the bucket of bait before going to the edge of the boat. He sat, feet thrown casually over the side as he cast a reel into the dark waters below.
“Grab a stick, let me teach you how to catch your meal, Messiah.”
Messiah grabbed a fishing pole and sat beside Ethic about a yard away.
“Alani is my meal. She fills me, nourishes me. I had to hunt her because a real woman knows how to evade you. They know how to maintain some control in their lives. It’s a must they retain some governance over themselves. So, I had to figure out how to get her to think that submitting to me was a choice and not dominance. If she thought I was trying to conquer her she would buck. She would go against what I wanted and the role I needed her to fill. So I hunted that. I caught that. Her heart you know? Hit every target with precision. Her heart. Her body. Her mind. Showed her a nigga could be her suitor. I proved to her over and over again that I could keep her safe, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. By the time she even realized the game she was mine. Now she can’t live without a nigga, can’t breathe without me, don’t sleep right without me, body don’t react to nobody but me. I caught my meal. She fed me. Put everything in my belly that was needed to make me feel like a man and that pussy my nigga…” Ethic shook his head and Messiah snickered. Ethic didn’t share details like that and Messiah hiked his brows in surprise.
“Word?” Messiah asked.
Messiah was surprised when he saw a coy grin pull at the corners of Ethic’s lips. He nodded. “I’ma lucky man, young.”
“I never would have fucking thought.”
“You never will think about that. I’ll pluck the sense from your fucking head before I ever let you look at her and think anything of the fucking sorts,” Ethic snickered.
Messiah grinned.
“You got to lay bait for Mo that’s so tempting she can’t do shit else but bite,” Ethic said. “You got to feel good to her Messiah. You got to feel safe for her. You got to look nourishing. You want her to submit and open every part of her. You got to secure her. Throw out your bait to catch a queen. A queen is gon’ pick the safest kingdom. Your bait is the kingdom you build. The last name you’re offering. The history behind it…”
Messiah’s chest locked. It protested inside him.
“I can’t help who I am. She’ll never want that. Blood to the nigga that rocked her entire world. She won’t love that. She don’t want no parts of me. Mizan…”
“Wasn’t your brother,” Ethic interrupted.
Messiah’s heart stilled. All his waters ran dry. His throat closed, his blood thickened, his stomach hollowed. Ethic’s words attacked him, exploding in his mind like a mental bomb. The headache and heartache they caused felt cruel because no way could the words be true.
“I wish that was bond, O.G. but…”
“When have you ever known me to say anything just to say it? He’s not your blood. He was Bookie’s lover maybe. I don’t know man. The shit is so fucking twisted. Your father had some preferences, some demons.” Ethic paused, trying to choose his words carefully for Messiah’s sake because while Mizan was no longer attached to Messiah, Bookie was. Bookie had changed him, had hurt him.
“Don’t call that nigga my daddy. He ain’t that. He didn’t raise shit. I see how you are with Eazy. How you guide him, teach him, even when he do something wrong and you got to get in his ass you’re stern but you easy with homie too. You walk real light on his heart even when you got to be the bad guy. I see that between you and him. That’s fatherhood. That’s the only way of being a father I will ever acknowledge. What he did … who he was … that shit ain’t…” Messiah stopped speaking and lowered his head, shaking it in shame.