19. Vegarro “Vega” Moretti
VEGARRO “VEGA” MORETTI
Iwatched Sonnet close the door. “You’re fucking driving me insane.”
She walked past me and dropped onto the couch. The phone, keys, and the cash I had given her rested in her lap. She looked exhausted, scared, stubborn, and entirely too pretty for a woman who had just stolen my gun and shot two men in the street.
“Sorry not sorry,” she shrugged.
I stared at her. Even after everything, she still had that mouth on her, still refused to shrink. I didn’t know whether I wanted to curse her out, shake her, or kiss her.
Instead, I blew out a breath and leaned my shoulder against the wall because my leg was starting to throb like a bitch. “I understand your confusion.”
She rolled her eyes, pouting.
“I do,” I insisted. “That’s why I opened the door.”
She looked down at the things in her lap.
“It fucks with me watching you like this,” I admitted. “Seeing you so confused. So unsure of yourself. One minute, you’re laughing with me. The next, you’re wondering if I’m grooming you for some worse shit. I hate that.”
“I didn’t say it to hurt you.”
“I know.” I swallowed against the irritation still sitting in my throat. “That’s why I keep stopping when things get too close between us.”
Her eyes lifted to mine.
“If you don’t know whether I’m your protector or your captor, then you damn sure don’t need to be in my bed trying to figure that out with your body.”
She went quiet.
“I want you,” I said. “Badly. Worse than I’ve ever wanted anything I didn’t already own. I don’t want you giving me pieces of yourself because you’re confused or scared.”
Her fingers tightened around her keys. “Thank you,” she said softly.
I nodded once, even though the words hit harder than they should have.
I didn’t understand myself anymore. I was used to problems that made sense, problems I could aim at, threaten, buy, bury, or outthink. But Sonnet wasn’t that. She made every decision feel personal. Every risk felt tied to her existence.
I had heard the alarm chime when she left. That single sound had ripped me out of the bathroom so fast I barely grabbed shoes before I ran after her.
Then I saw those men chasing her. Fear hit me so hard it made everything else disappear. I wasn’t using any caution or strategy. I felt fear, the kind I wasn’t used to feeling, the kind that made me understand I wasn’t protecting an assignment anymore.
I pushed off the wall and walked toward the couch, trying not to show how much my leg hurt. Sonnet noticed anyway because of course she did.
I lowered myself beside her carefully.
“Does this mean that he knows where we are?” she asked reluctantly.
I shook my head. “No. He would have been here by now.”
“But they were just a few blocks away.”
“Meaning he probably was able to trace my ride to the area, but he doesn’t know exactly where you are. Otherwise, he would have been here by now. But I will have to relocate you ASAP.”
Her eyes dropped to my thigh. “What are you going to do about your leg?”
“Bullet went straight through. It didn’t hit an artery. I’m not bleeding out. I’ll have somebody look at it.”
“Somebody?”
“Somebody I trust to be quiet.”
She nodded, and I studied her for a moment. “What made you come back? When they were shooting at me, you had a real chance to keep running. Nobody was looking at you. You could’ve been gone.”
She looked away first before admitting, “I couldn’t leave you.”
My heart beat stilled.
She sounded annoyed with herself. “I tried. I took steps away. Then I saw him coming toward you with the gun, and I just…” She shook her head. “I couldn’t keep going.”
I didn’t say anything. Neither did she. We just looked at each other, and we both felt it. She wanted me. She wanted me in the same confusing, dangerous, undeniable way I wanted her. I saw it in her eyes.
She knew I saw it too. That made her roll her eyes before I could say a word. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“You came back for me,” I teased.
She lifted her chin. “Saving your life doesn’t mean I forgive you for stealing mine.”
A laugh left me before I could stop it.
She tried to hold her serious face, but her mouth twitched. Then she laughed too, quiet at first, then a little harder.
“Where’d you learn to use a gun like that?” I asked once the laughter settled.
“After I left the group home, I knew I needed something to protect myself.” Her fingers traced the edge of the table absentmindedly. “So, I bought a gun and went to a range. I practiced until my hands stopped shaking.”
“Then why didn’t you use it when I took you?”
“I couldn’t get to my purse,” she said quietly.
I studied her as she spoke. There were so many versions of her; the one who rambled about nerdy facts, the one who was superb in the kitchen, the one who taught herself how to survive because no one else was going to do it for her. And I loved every single one of them.
A few days later, it was officially June and the beginning of Summertime Chi.
The sun was finally out, the lakefront was open, everybody in the city had found a reason to be outside.
I tagged along with Wise to meet Bishop at Truth on the Beach at 57th Street Beach.
Wise was linking with Bishop and his law firm buddies, and I needed a break from the street shit.
Music spilled from the deejay’s speakers while people danced near the patio, between tables, and in front of beach chairs with drinks in their hands.
Most of them weren’t dressed for the beach.
There were more sundresses, designer slides, fitted tees, gold chains, sunglasses, and fresh haircuts than swimsuits.
Most had come for the deejay, and the drinks.
Only a handful of folks had actually touched the sand.
I sat beside Wise with Bishop and some of the male lawyers from his firm. A few bottles of liquor sat in a cooler near us. Women were everywhere, and the lake gleamed behind the crowd.
Bishop laughed at something one of his attorneys said, leaning back in his chair.
That was Wise’s nigga for real. They had met in college, and somehow, the friendship had survived two completely different worlds.
Wise ran with gangsters, killers, hustlers, and men who knew how to make bodies disappear.
Bishop’s circle had CEOs, directors, lawyers, and politicians.
Bishop had his own defense firm in Bronzeville, but according to Wise, he was still the same nigga who used to borrow chargers and eat other people’s food while studying for the bar.
Bradley leaned toward his chair, following the crowd with his eyes. “Y’all see the one in yellow?”
Wise took a sip from his cup while keeping his attention on the two women dancing near the deejay. One had on a yellow sundress that moved every time her ass bounced to the house music. Her friend wore a floral sundress with the back out.
Wise nodded. “Her friend fine as fuck too.”
Bishop laughed. “That’s what I’m talking about. The sundresses have finally come back out. I was sick of those wrestling suits.”
I barked out a laugh.
Bishop kept going. “I wanna see women dressed like they on vacation in Miami, not getting ready to get in the ring.” He leaned back, smiling as he appreciated the view.
Bradley caught him and laughed. “Don’t sit over there acting single, Bishop.”
“I’m not acting single,” Bishop said.
“You lookin’ though.”
“I got eyes.”
Terrence, another lawyer from the firm, pointed his cup at him. “That’s how it starts. First, you’re looking, then you buying drinks, then you lying to your wife about why your phone always facedown.”
Bishop waved him off. “That’s y’all problem. Y’all weak.”
Bradley grinned. “So, you wouldn’t say anything to the one in yellow?”
“Hell no. Not even if she sat in my lap and started reciting case law.”
We cracked up.
“I don’t cheat on my wife,” Bishop boasted proudly. “I don’t need to. My wife is beautiful, loyal, smart as hell, and she held me down when I had nothing but student loans, stress, and a dream that I barely believed in.”
The joking ceased, out of respect for the truth.
Bradley nodded. “That’s facts. Milan was around when you were studying for the bar like a madman.”
“And when I started the firm,” Bishop added. “Y’all remember that first office? I didn’t have a receptionist or any assistants. It was just me, a printer that jammed every other day, and Milan bringing food because she knew I’d forget to eat.”
Terrence lifted his cup. “Good woman.”
“One of the best,” Bradley agreed. “Patient too, because you were stressed as hell back then.”
Bishop grinned. “She never made me feel like I was failing, even when I was. She just kept telling me to keep going.”
I watched him as he said it, watched the contentment he had.
I had never wanted to marry any woman I’d been with.
I had enjoyed women, respected some, entertained plenty, but none of them had ever made me picture a last name, house, kids, holidays, or somebody waiting for me after I survived the streets.
But listening to Bishop talk about Milan made me understand choosing a woman to be your forever.
He wasn’t talking about having a wife because it looked good.
He was talking about having a woman who knew the broke version of a man, the stressed version, the uncertain version, and still decided he was worth standing beside.
I wanted that with Sonnet before I had any right to.
She had seen parts of me most women never got close enough to understand, and somehow, I still wanted her closer.
I wanted her in my house, in my bed, in my future, and in every quiet space I used to fill with women who never mattered past the moment.
For the first time, marriage didn’t sound like a trap. It sounded like something I could want if Sonnet was the woman walking into it with me.
Wise cut his eyes at Bishop. “You been married too long. You starting to sound like a podcast.”
No matter how much he respected what Bishop had said, Wise had to fuck with him.
As if her name summoned her, Milan walked up behind Bishop with Rain at her side.
Wise’s whole mood changed beside me, and I chuckled under my breath. He could hardly kick it with Bishop without Milan showing up, and Milan showing up usually meant Rain wasn’t too far behind. And that always ruined Wise’s night.
Bishop noticed me and Wise looking behind him, so he turned. Then he stood, smiling before Milan even reached the table. “There go my wife. I didn’t know you were walking up.”
She kissed him, saying, “You weren’t answering your phone.”
“My bad, babe. It must still be on silent from being in court earlier.” Then he went in his pocket and retrieved his phone to check the ringer.
Rain’s eyes landed on Wise, and he glared. “Aye, Rain, fuck you.”
Her brows rose. “Excuse me?”
Milan sighed. “Please don’t start, y’all.”
“Tell your girl to stay outta my fucking business,” Wise said.
Rain laughed. “I don’t give a damn about anything you got going on.”
“You gave enough of a fuck to talk shit about me to Tasha. Hating ass.”
Rain folded her arms. “Your business became my business when Tasha called me crying.”
Wise laughed, but there wasn’t any humor in it.
Bishop’s eyes moved between them. “What happened with Tasha?”
“Ask your wife’s bestie,” Wise scoffed. “She apparently gives background checks on niggas for sport.”
Rain rolled her eyes. “I told my friend the truth.”
“You told her I was emotionally unavailable and dating other women.”
Bishop scoffed, shaking his head while Milan held hers.
Wise set his cup down. “Tasha was grown. She knew what it was.”
“No,” Rain retorted. “She knew what you let her know. There’s a difference.”
Wise leaned back, staring up at her. “I didn’t lie to that woman.”
“You didn’t have to. Men like you love technical honesty. You tell just enough truth to avoid guilt while letting women fill in the blanks with hope.”
Bishop muttered, “Damn.”
Wise glared at him. “You enjoying this?”
Bishop chuckled. “A little.”
Milan elbowed him.
Wise turned back to Rain. “You don’t know shit about me and Tasha.”
“I know she liked you.”
“A lot of women like me.”
“Exactly.” Rain’s eyes narrowed. “And that’s why I warned her before she became another one of your victims.”
Wise stood slowly.
Bishop stepped closer to him. “Wise.”
I stayed seated, but I watched Wise’s hands. Rain had a way of getting under his skin faster than his opps.
Wise ignored Bishop. “You got a lot to say for somebody who doesn’t know shit about how I treat the women I’m fucking.”
Rain didn’t move back. “I know enough.”
“No,” Wise said. “You know rich boys in tailored suits who smile in your face and cheat behind your back. You don’t know a real nigga like me.”
“I know you ain’t shit.”
“And I know you think having a degree and a daddy with money makes you qualified to judge everybody who didn’t grow up at country clubs.”
Rain took a step closer. “You don’t know how I grew up.”
“And you don’t know shit about my relationships, but that didn’t stop you from running your mouth.”
“I protected my friend.”
“You sabotaged something that wasn’t yours because you can’t stand the thought of a woman choosing me.”
Rain laughed bitterly. “Trust me, Wise. Women choosing you has never been impressive to me.”
“Ooooh,” one of Bishop’s lawyers sang under his breath.
Bishop shot him a warning glare. “Shut up.”
Wise smiled at Rain, but nothing about it was friendly. “You sure about that?”
Rain’s eyes locked on his. “Positive.”
“Then why you so invested?”
“Because watching women mistake attention from you for intention annoys me.”
Bishop rose a hand. “All right. Enough.”
Milan grabbed Rain’s arm. “Come on.”
Rain tried to pull away. “No, he got me fucked up. You’re not that important for me to care about who you’re fucking over.”
“Then stop acting like I am.”
Bishop pressed a hand to Wise’s chest. “Back up.”
Wise looked at Bishop, then at Rain. Rain was breathing harder than she wanted anybody to notice, and Wise looked too satisfied that he had caused it.
Milan pulled Rain back. “Rain, let’s go get a drink.”
Rain’s eyes stayed on Wise as Milan guided her away.
Wise called after her, “Tell your friends to stop catching feelings after I give them this dick!”
She flipped him off without turning around.
I shook my head and took a sip from my cup.
Bishop looked at Wise. “You happy now?”
Wise picked up his cup. “I was happy before your women showed up.”
“She’s not my woman.”
“She comes with yours. Same burden.”
Bishop sat back down, shaking his head. “You and Rain been doing this for almost ten years. I’m ready for y’all to kiss and make up.”
Wise cut his eyes at him. “Keep practicing law, motherfucka.”
Bishop just laughed.
I looked toward the bar where Rain stood beside Milan, still mad, still glancing back like she hadn’t gotten enough. Then I looked at Wise, who was pretending not to notice her.
That wasn’t hatred. But it wasn’t my business yet, so I drank and let him keep lying to himself.