I turned up my nose at her. “First of all, one, possibly both, of them are armed. I’m pretty sure one is trigger happy. And even if we managed to duck and dodge the bullets?—”
“Which I am not doing. Girl, I’d have to think twice about taking a bullet for my mama, much less a woman who been kidnapped by a nigga who got more money than the Monopoly man,” she interrupted.
“Even if,” I insisted, “There are two big Russian guys waiting on us outside the door.”
She glared at me, shaking her head. “You know, I started to let Karena help him when he came in. But no, my stupid inner self said. We don’t get a lot of Black men in here and I wanted to help a brotha out… literally. Now, look. You got me caught up in a Lifetime movie.”
“Freya. Focus! You gon’ help or not?”
“I told you I was gon’ help, didn’t I? We got a back door…”
I listened as she planned a simple escape route for me through the alleys behind the block of storefronts. She’d call her best friend to let me in the back door of a nearby boutique where she worked.
“She’ll let you use her phone. Hell, I’ll tell her to have an Uber waiting for you.”
I nodded my approval, even as a strange feeling twisted up from the pit of my stomach and into my chest. Stupid emotions. I was absolutely doing the right thing. I understood the danger,but I believed Ajani, Prime, and Braeden could keep us safe. I needed to leave this behind, leavehimbehind. My eyes fell to the beautiful ring he had slid onto my finger. I pulled it off slowly, then curled my fingers around my palm where it rested, reluctant to let it go.
Stop it, Theory!I grabbed Freya’s hand and pressed the ring into it.
“For your troubles. Thank you,” I whispered around the sudden lump in my throat.
“Yeah, yeah. Come on.”
She led me to the back door then entered the code that opened it. I thanked her again, but she waved it off.
“Let me go out here and stall them. Then, I’ma send them to the dressing room, and Karena and I going right out that front door. I ain’t tryna be on the news, either.”
“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.
