Chapter 14
“Man, forget that ol’ tired necklace shit. Ice her wrist out. One of these tennis bracelets and a big face Rollie—let your girl match you, T. Trust me!” Juvie opined as I studied the tray of jeweled necklaces.
I knew this marriage wasn’t what Theory wanted…
yet. The least I could do was welcome her into it with gifts.
The house, some stocks, land in her hometown of Emancipation, LA, a pretty, customized, blue G-Wagon, and jewelry.
Lots and lots of jewelry. I just needed to pick pieces that reflected my feelings for her: beautiful, exclusive, and timeless.
I scowled at Juvie, wishing for the millionth time that his crazy ass would hold his tongue sometimes.
“Thank you for the advice, Julien. I don’t think Theory is a ‘big face Rollie’ type of girl though,” I responded.
He twisted his face into a look of disbelief. “You pick the right watch, and they all ‘big face Rollie’ types of girls. Like I said, trust me.”
I was thinking about how to curse him out when my phone vibrated.
Pulling it out of my pocket, I glanced at the screen, planning to call whoever it was back.
I frowned when I saw Monica’s name. I wasn’t expecting it to be her; they should be busy picking out a dress.
I felt bad that Theory didn’t have family here to help her.
My mother had a previous engagement, so I called my cousins.
They had already flown down as soon as I told them I was getting married.
I figured they could help Theory today and get their interrogation out the way.
“Yeah?” I answered.
“Pretty sure your girl is back there making a run for it,” announced Monica nonchalantly.
“Why the fuck you say that? And why you ain’t stopping her?”
Aggravation swelled inside me at Monica’s unbothered attitude and Theory’s stubborn ass.
“Don’t get mad at me. My pregnant ass ain’t chasing behind yo’ runaway bride.
You knew she was gon’ try something like this.
Why else would you just happen to be shopping on the same block?
Y’all need to go out the back. Sasha’s already telling your guys out front to move around.
I’ll call you if your Theory proves my theory wrong. ”
The amusement in her tone was clear. That pissed me off more.
“Glad you find this shit funny,” I snapped.
She chuckled softly. “Boy, go find that girl so you can hurry up and get married. She got heart. I kinda like her.”
I disconnected the call. Juvie took one look at my face and cracked up.
“You thought you had her,” he cackled.
“Where’s your back door?” I asked the salesperson, ignoring him.
The woman shook her head. “Customers are not allowed—” she stopped midsentence, her eyes wide.
I looked over to see that Juvie had turned around and pulled up his shirt, flashing the gun he kept there. Wordlessly, the lady pointed. We followed the direction of her finger, barreling out the back door. I quickly scanned both ends of the alley but sighted no one except Mikhail and Vlad.
“Stay here,” I ordered them before Juvie and I re-entered the jewelry store.
The clerk gasped audibly as we jogged through.
Juvie was on my heels as I exited the front door, my eyes already sweeping up and down the street.
I spotted her opening the door of a little BMW SUV.
Her head jerked as I called her name. Our eyes met, and I shook my head once.
For a second, she froze, staring at me. Then she scrambled into the truck.
“Shit,” I cursed, then took my first step off the curb and into the street.
“Targen, don’t do that shit,” Juvie yelled.
But I was beyond listening. The impatient sounds of horns and voices didn’t fully penetrate the layers of anger and determination surrounding me. I moved into the middle of the right lane just as the BMW approached. The screech of tires, the stream of curses, the traffic at standstill…
None of it mattered. All that did was getting to her.
The driver let down his window, his face screwed into a mug.
But something about my appearance had him raising it again.
I kept a hand on the truck as I walked along it, daring him to move.
Theory’s door was locked, of course. I peered through the window, watching her as she stubbornly faced front.
“Open the door, Theory,” I demanded.
She stayed still, refusing to acknowledge me.
“I’m not playing with you, girl. Open this door.”
This time, she looked at me, nose turned up and shook her head. Laughing softly, I nodded.
“A’ight. Bet, shorty.”
I banged on the driver’s window. “Open her door.”
“Please don’t open the door,” I heard her say. “Look, I have money –”
I rapped on his window again, interrupting her. “I got more. And if you don’t want me to tear this shit off the fucking hinges, open it,” I said.
I smiled at the sound of the locks disengaging. Snatching the back door open, I climbed in.
“Weak ass. You folded quicker than a washcloth,” Theory berated the driver. “What if he’s a killer?”
He shot her a guilty look, but that shit faded as I passed him a few bills.
“Park as close as you can,” I said.
She scoffed. “He might as well keep driving, cuz I’m not marrying you.”
I ignored her words, waiting until the driver had done as I instructed.
“Give me the keys and get out,” I told him.
His eyes met mine in the rear view. “Wh-what?” he stammered.
“Get. The fuck. Out.” My voice was low, precise. He’d better catch a hint real quick.
“B-b-but m-my car. I need—”
His protests stopped at the telltale feel of metal pressed against the back of his head.
“Whatever it is, I bet you need your brain in one piece more.”
He gobbled some kind of plea before tossing the key fob onto the passenger seat and almost falling out of the car. I watched as he stepped onto the curb and disappeared into the lazy flow of window shoppers. Finally, I turned to deal with my reluctant fiancée.
“Where did you think you were you running to, Theory?” I asked quietly.
She glared at me, honey brown eyes blazing. “Away from you and this crazy idea,” she spat.
“Where? To your house to end up dead or tortured or made into a slave? Huh? Cuz that’s the type of time the niggas who broke in are on.”
Pivoting away from me, she made an exasperated little sound. I grabbed her chin gently and turned her face back to me.
“On Saturday, we getting married, milaya. That’s the end of that,” I said, tired of this argument.
She kissed her teeth. “Who the fuck do you think you are? I am not marrying–-”
“You are. You will. You will because you don’t want my family’s enemies annihilating your people. You will because you don’t want to see that beautiful farm your grandparents, your parents, your aunts and uncles have all worked so hard for burned to the ground,” I growled against her ear.
She tried to move her chin away from my palm, but I held on.
“All these hypotheticals. Ajani and Prime can handle –-”
“Ajani and Prime can’t handle the kind of shit I’m talking about alone.
When it comes to you, Ajani and Prime can’t handle me.
There is nowhere you can go that I won’t find you.
I’ll always come for you, Theory. Nothing can keep me away from you, milaya.
You gotta accept that you are mine, and I protect what is mine,” I vowed.
Her lashes fluttered. For a second, I thought she was about to soften. I was wrong. She didn’t melt. Her voice came out colder than I’d ever heard it.
“I don’t like when you say it like that,” she said.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m property. Like you can move me around wherever you want.”
I exhaled heavily. “You want to be protected. You want a provider. I’m saying you’re mine to protect, to provide for. You told me what you wanted—”
“And you heard what you wanted,” she cut in. “You heard babies and a soft life and somebody leading, and you took that as permission to—” She stopped herself, jaw tightening. “Never mind.”
I leaned closer. “Say it.”
“To decide that you get to decide everything. I’m not doing that with you.”
I could see the hesitation in her eyes, the resistance in her body.
“I wanna do this the easy way. Please don’t make me show you the other me, malyshka.”
She swallowed. “Y-you won’t hurt me, remember?”
I hated that we kept coming back to that, hated that some part of her, no matter how small, still feared that I would ever lay a hand on her to harm her.
One day, she’d realize I’d rather cut off my right arm than hurt her.
For now, I didn’t mind reassuring her. I brought my face close to hers, so close, that her eyes fluttered shut, unable to focus. So close, that my lips grazed hers.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Theory,” I vowed.
She kissed her teeth. “Oh no. You’d just kill an innocent man.”
My reply was interrupted by a tap on the window. Juvie stood outside waiting patiently. I lowered the glass.
“What?” I muttered, the irritation clear in my voice.
He frowned at me.
“Slow ya roll, big dawg. I ain’t tryna interrupt y’all little rendezvous. Your cousin said to give you this,” he said quietly for once.
I looked past him to where Sasha and Monica stood on the sidewalk.
Sasha gave a silent wave as Monica smirked.
Opening my palm, I watched as Juvie lay her ring on it.
Any guilt or hesitation I felt evaporated in a cloud of anger.
I’d designed this thing in my head as I lay in a cell in sub-zero temperatures, and it meant so little that she left it behind in a store?
My attitude hardened as I lowered my face near hers again.
Cupping her cheek, I let my eyes bore into hers.
“Killing Malik is just the beginning. You know whose blood I want to shed, for real?”
She licked her lips before whispering a tremulous, “Who?”
“That snake ass cousin of yours—Shep,” I confessed. “I haven’t liked him since he brought that nigga around who talked crazy to you. I’d slump his ass… happily.”
Her reaction was immediate, and it wasn’t just fear. She went still, so still shit worried me more than yelling would have. Then she exhaled, her breath warm against my lips before she pulled back to stare at me, eyes wide, then narrowing into tight little lines.
“He’s my family—” she started.
“He’s your blood. That don’t make him family,” I corrected.
“Targen,” she said, and my name didn’t sound soft in her mouth this time. It sounded like she was drawing a line. I kinda liked that shit. “Do not threaten my people to control me.”
I stared at her, caught off guard by the calm in her voice.
“You not hearing me. He put you in danger. That nigga been—” I argued.
She raised her hand. “I heard you. I lived it. Shep did me dirty. He let somebody say foul shit to me in my granny’s house. I know exactly who he is.”
Her chin lifted. Her eyes stayed locked on mine.
“But you don’t get to use him like a button you can press to make me obey,” she said.
“I’m not—” I began.
“You are. And if you want me to stand beside you like your wife, you don’t threaten my family to keep me in line. Ever. Because then, what’s the difference between you and any enemies?”
Silence filled the backseat. Her voice was softer, but it hadn’t lost its edge. “Shep is my problem. You don’t get to use him against me.”
For a long moment, I just watched her. My future wife was pissing me off… and earning my respect. My milaya wasn’t shaking or begging. She was telling me what was what.
“You think I’m doing this to punish you?” I asked, my voice low.
“Right now, everything with you is… it’s just… control. Threats. Fear. And you keep telling me you not gon’ hurt me, but you keep making me feel like everybody around me is one decision you don’t like away from dying. You don’t think that’s pain, Targen?”
Her eyes dropped down to the ring in my palm, then back up.
“You should want me to stay because I chose you, not because I’m scared of what you might do.”
That did something to me, made me feel guilty in a way I didn’t like admitting. My shorty was quick and vicious with it today. I leaned in, not touching her, just close enough for her to feel me.
“A’ight,” I said finally.
She blinked, but she held my gaze.
“I’m not touching Shep to make you do shit. I don’t need him as leverage. You hear me?”
She nodded once.
“But if he puts you in danger again, if he brings another Kemp-type nigga anywhere near you again, if he opens his mouth about you again… then I’m handling it. That’s protection, not control. And you don’t have problems anymore. They all mine,” I added, voice turning to stone.
She watched me, thinking hard.
“You gon’ protect me without becoming what I should be scared of?” she asked quietly.
My jaw flexed. “I’m trying. You get choices, decisions after this one. But let me be clear, Theory Grace. You walking down that aisle to me Saturday. That, milaya, is not up for debate,” I said.
Hurt dimmed her eyes before they grew cold.
“I’ll hate you for this,” she whispered. “This marriage… it will be in name only.”
I shrugged. I wasn’t worried about that. She didn’t hate me, and in due time, she would be my wife in every sense of the word.
“Who do you want me to bring in from your family? We can do something big later.”
Her eyelids drifted downward as she shook her head.
“Nobody. I don’t want any of my people here for a fucking farce,” she hissed, ice dripping from each word.
Now, that shit hurt, but my baby was gon’ learn the meaning of cold if she kept fucking with me. Silently, I grabbed her hand and slid the ring back on.
“Let this be the last time I say this; it doesn’t come off. Ever.”
She looked down at it. A tense quiet stretched between us. Only when I saw a drop of liquid splash against the diamond did I realize she was crying.