Page 155 of Vega

He gave me a tired look. “Exactly. Don’t cage that girl up because you scared. She already been through enough.”

I leaned back, letting his words sink in.

Lowe looked down at his leg. “If I gotta learn how to walk again, then you can learn how to love without acting like a prison warden.”

“That was poetic for a nigga in a hospital gown.”

He finally grinned genuinely. “Trauma gave a nigga range.”

I laughed, and this time he laughed a little too.

SONNET ELLISON

The bathwater was hot enough to turn my skin pink, which was exactly what I needed after what Vega had done to me against that dining table. My body was struggling to recover from the intimate abuse it had been taking for the last week. My thighs ached, and every time I felt the pain, I remembered his hands, his mouth, and that deep voice telling me to take what he gave me. Vega’s dick should’ve come with a warning label, and even though I was tired of feeling trapped, I wasn’t too stupid to appreciate my situation. I was hiding in a presidential suite with a man who looked good enough to make bad decisions feel justified, and that same man could make me forget my own name with just his hands on my body.

Still, pleasure didn’t erase reality. It distracted me for a while, but it didn’t fix the part of me that feared my free will being taken from me. I loved how Vega protected me. I loved how he touched me, talked to me, fed me, held me, and made me feel chosen in ways I had never felt before.

But every now and then, my trauma found a way to surface. I had spent years without a real home, so the first place I had built for myself meant everything to me. My condo wasn’t just walls and furniture. It was proof that I had survived to create something that was mine, that no one else could control or take from me.

Then I lost it. I lost my routine. I lost what I had created because no one had given it to me. Vega made this hotel suite warmer than it should’ve been, but it still wasn’t mine. That was the part I couldn’t explain without sounding ungrateful.

I sank deeper into the water and stared at the steam rising around me. I wasn’t stupid. I knew Roman was still alive. I knew leaving this suite could put me right back in danger. I knew Vega had already watched Lowe almost die because of this mess, and that had changed something in him. But knowing why a cage existed didn’t make the bars any more tolerable.

Eventually, the water cooled, and I forced myself to get out. I dried off and rubbed sweet-smelling shea butter into my skin. I slipped into a cute little lounge set with tiny shorts and a matching sports bra. The shorts barely covered anything, and the top left my stomach out. Vega loved my slightly pudgy stomach for reasons I still didn’t understand. That man slept on it whenever he got the chance, kissed it randomly, and grabbed it with the kind of possessiveness that made me stop hating it so much.

I was fixing my hair in the mirror when I heard the suite door open. My hunger pangs eased. Vega had asked if I wanted to ride with him to visit Lowe and pick up some food, but after he had bent me over that table and left me floating in another dimension, the only thing I wanted was a bath and silence.

I stepped out of the bathroom and headed through the bedroom. Then I heard a voice that almost made my soul leave my body.

“This is niiiiice!! It ain’t got no roaches or nuthin’!”

I ran out of the bedroom and into the living room, screaming. Dior stood near the door with one hand on his hip, fresh haircut, deep waves shining under the suite lights, and a crisp lining. His face was done, makeup blended perfectly, lashes full, lips glossy, and his cropped short-sleeved tee showed just enough skin. He had on denim shorts, Gucci slides, and a matching bag tucked under his arm.

“Dior!”

He screamed too, throwing his arms open. “Bitch!”

I ran straight into him.

He caught me and rocked us both, squeezing me so hard I almost cried on impact.

“Oh my God,” I said into his shoulder. “Oh my God. I’ve missed you so much!”

Over Dior’s shoulder, I saw Vega standing by the door with bags of food in both hands and a smile on his face.

Vega lifted a brow, still smiling. “Am I forgiven now?”

“Yes!” I said immediately, then turned back to Dior and hugged him again.

Vega shut the door with his foot and carried the food toward the table.

Dior pulled back from our hug and pointed at Vega. “First of all, this nigga is rude as fuck.”

I gasped as my eyes darted to Vega. “What did you do?!”

Vega set the food on the table. “He a lie. I spoke.”

“You called my name, told me to get in the car, and spent the rest of the ride looking like we were on our way to a drive by.”