Page 102 of Vega

“Jamil, I need a favor. Clean the block,” he said, his voice rough from pain. “Every camera that could’ve caught me or Sonnet. Doorbells, traffic, houses. All of it. I need this street wiped before police start pulling footage.”

He listened for a few seconds, then he ended the call and looked at me. The softness I had seen in his eyes before was gone.

“Why the fuck did you run?” he snapped.

I sat back on my heels, blood on my hands, my torn shirt hanging crooked from my body. “I need to get the fuck away from all of this.”

His face twisted like that answer pissed him off more than the bullet in his leg. “I told you he wanted you dead. I told you he was coming for you. You thought I was playing?”

“I don’t know what to think!”

“You know enough,” he shot back. “You know I could’ve killed you already if that’s what I wanted. You know I let my guard down with you. I took the mask off. I showed you my face. I let you walk around my house. I let you sleep in my bed. And after all that, you still ran straight into the hands of the niggas trying to kill you.”

My throat tightened. “I ran from a man who broke into my home, drugged me, chained me up, and locked me inside a house. You don’t get to act shocked that I tried to escape.”

“I’m shocked because you’re smart enough to know better by now. You know I’m not the monster you keep trying to make me when it’s convenient.”

My eyes burned. “It’s not convenient. It’s confusing.”

“No, what’s confusing is you trusting me enough to close your eyes beside me last night, but not enough to believe me when I tell you stepping outside could get you killed.”

“I wanted my life back!”

“And I’m trying to make sure you live long enough to get it!” he barked.

I flinched, but I didn’t back down. “You’re acting like you rescued me from captivity when all you did was replace one captor with another.”

His eyes went cold. “Another captor? Roman’s men just chased you through the street with guns, and I risked my life to keep them from putting you in a trunk or a grave. That’s your comparison?” He dragged a hand over his face, breathing hard with frustration.

“I want to trust you,” I admitted, my voice shaking. “That’s the problem. Part of me does, and that scares me more than anything. Because all of this is crazy, Vega. I watched another man kill his own son. You’ve locked me up ever since. I’m supposed to believe the man who kidnapped me is the safest place I can be? You’re right; I am smart enough to know better. I’m smart enough to know better than to be laying up with the nigga that kidnapped me and cooking him dinner every night like he can’t be plotting my death or to send me to Ecuador so fat white men can buy me for a hundred dollars.”

He shook his head, and I could see the disappointment in his eyes. He looked wounded in a different place now.

I swallowed. “You want me to stop being scared of you because you’ve been nice to me. But being nice doesn’t mean you’re safe. It could mean that you know how to be very fucking manipulative.”

“I’m not Roman.”

“I don’t know that!”

His eyes narrowed.

I stood, saying, “All I know is a masked man came into my house and took me away from everything I know. All I know is you keep telling me you’re protecting me while making every decision about my life. For all I know, this nice version of you could be grooming me, training me, making me comfortable enough to stop fighting until Roman decides he’s ready to kill me.”

“That’s obviously not what this is,” he growled. “I was just shooting at Roman’s men.”

“I saw that. I also saw you kidnap me. Both things can be true.”

He stared at me like he wanted to argue, but pain cut through his anger. He pushed himself up with a hard breath, putting weight on his good leg first.

His hand closed around my elbow. He started limping toward the house, pulling me with him. “Let’s go.”

“Let go of me.”

“No.”

I tried to snatch my arm free, but his grip held. “You don’t get it. I can’t be sure you’re saving me. I want to trust you,” I said, stumbling to keep up with his uneven pace. “That’s the problem. Part of me does, and I hate that because none of this makes sense. I’m confused. I’m scared. You’re dangerous, Roman’s dangerous, and somehow, I’m supposed to decide which dangerous man is telling me the truth.”

His grip loosened slightly.