28. Vegarro “Vega” Moretti
VEGARRO “VEGA” MORETTI
Sonnet and Dior talked, drank liquor, and laughed loud in that suite until almost two in the morning.
I stayed in the bedroom and let them have their privacy.
For the first time in weeks, I ate by myself, listening to Sonnet laugh through the wall.
I had never heard her laugh sound so free and light.
Seeing that smile on my baby’s face made it even more urgent that I get rid of Roman.
Sonnet deserved to live her life as freely as she had fought for it.
She deserved her routine. But I feared that, once she was free, she might remember that blood, violence, and drugs weren’t her world.
She might remember my presence came with death and violence.
She might wake up one day with no reason to stay and run faster than she had ever run in her life.
By the time Dior was ready to go, Sonnet insisted on riding with us to take him home. But she was asleep before we hit the second stoplight.
Dior sat in the backseat with one leg crossed over the other, smoking a blunt with the window cracked.
“You smoke?” he asked as he handed it forward.
I glanced at it through the rearview mirror. “No offense, but you suck dick.”
Dior threw his head back laughing. “Fuck you, Vega.”
I smirked. “You wish.”
He took another pull and blew smoke toward the cracked window. His voice lost some of the humor when he asked, “Can I ask you something?”
I raised my brow at him through the rearview mirror. “Depends.”
He rolled his eyes but asked, “Why you don’t treat me funny?”
“Funny how?”
“For being gay. Most street niggas are uncomfortable around me or don’t want to be around me at all because I’m so feminine and flamboyant.”
“I don’t care how many glizzies you take to the dome,” I joked. “It’s your smart-ass mouth that’s gonna get you fucked up with me.”
Dior slapped the back of my seat. “See, nigga?! That’s why I always be talking shit.”
I laughed. “Nah, for real. My cousins, Lux and Lowe, have a gay brother who grew up around us. He brought his friends around too. So, I’m used to it.
He moved out of state a few years back, so he don’t come around much now.
But he was damn near a brother growing up.
He and his friends were proud, loud, and didn’t shrink for nobody… a lot like you.”
“Yassss,” Dior replied. “I love that.”
“Another man being different don’t make me less of what I am.”
Dior watched me in the mirror. “Period.”
“Don’t make it a moment.”
“It is a moment, though. You’re being in touch with your emotions right now. So Carl Thomas.”
I cut my eyes at him. “You getting on my nerves again.”
“That means you like me.”
“That means Sonnet loves you, so I’m tolerating you.”
He grinned. “Same thing.”
I pulled up in front of Dior’s building and put the car in park.
I leaned over and rubbed her thigh. “Baby.”
She made a small sound and turned her face toward me.
I kissed her cheek. “We’re here. Wake up so you can say bye.”
Dior had his hand on the door, watching us while wearing a goofy grin. “Oop. Look at Mr. Kidnapper being sweet. That was very much husband-coded.”
“Chill,” I warned.
He lifted both hands. “I’m just clocking the tenderness.”
She sat up, still groggy, and looked back at Dior. “I don’t want you to go.” Sonnet smiled sleepily. “Come back soon, okay?”
Dior leaned forward between the seats and kissed her forehead. “Try keeping me away. Now that I know the suite number, I’m damn near a roommate.”
I grunted. “Oh fuck.”
Sonnet laughed with her eyes closed.
Dior got out and pulled his bag over his shoulder. I waited while he walked to the door, unlocked it, and went inside. He turned back once, waved with two fingers, then disappeared into the building.
I stayed there until the lobby door shut behind him.
Sonnet leaned against my shoulder, already halfway sleep again. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome, baby.”
“I love you.”
The words were so soft I almost thought my ears made them up. Before I could reply, she dozed off against me, breathing slow, fingers resting against my arm.
I sat there, staring out at the empty street, wondering if she knew what she had just said, wondering if it counted if it was coated with liquor and fatigue, wondered if she would remember in the morning.
I knew what I felt. I loved her. If freedom took her from me, I would have to let her go. But until that day came, I was going to make sure she lived long enough to choose to stay.