Page 13 of Vega

Lowe reached across Wise for the bottle. Wise caught him by the forehead with his hand and shoved him back into his seat. “Sit your drunk ass down.”

“I’m grown.” But the frown on Lowe’s face made him look like a lil’ ass boy.

“You’re leaning to the left.”

“I’m sitting at an angle.”

Laughing, I told him, “The chair is straight, though,” I told him.

Lowe looked down at it as if he needed to confirm that for himself.

That sent all of us laughing.

There was no real line between insulting each other and showing affection. The five of us argued, roasted each other, fought beside one another, and showed up without needing an invitation. We could disrespect one another because the respect underneath it had already been proven.

Lowe looked at his brother, tilting his head to the side. “I know you ain’t laughing, over there with that bedazzled, loud ass shirt on.”

Lux adjusted the collar of his designer shirt. “For the record, you couldn’t even afford to dress like me.”

“You look like a drug dealer’s favorite auntie,” Lowe cracked.

My phone vibrated against my thigh. I pulled it from my pocket expecting a woman, one of my runners, or somebody checking on product.

Instead, Roman Granger’s name flashed on the screen:

We need to meet. Tonight.

The laughter around me faded into the background. With his son dead, a request from Roman to meet only meant he believed he knew who’d killed Donovan.

“What’s wrong?” Prodigy asked.

I realized I had been staring at the message too long. “Roman Granger requested a meeting.”

The conversations closest to us stopped.

Wise sat forward. “Did he say why?”

“No.”

“He doesn’t have to,” Saint said.

I looked at him, and Saint lifted his drink and smiled. “That means blood is about to be shed.”

Legend gave him a warning look. “You sound too happy about that.”

“I am happy… and jealous.”

“That’s because you’re disturbed,” Wise said.

Saint shrugged. “We all have hobbies.”

SONNET ELLISON

Friday nights had never meant much to me. For most women my age, Friday was an excuse to put on something uncomfortable, stand in a crowded room, and pretend paying twenty dollars for a watered-down drink was fun. For me, it meant changing into an oversized T-shirt, ordering food, and reading until my eyes burned.

I liked my life quiet. My job was stable. My bills were paid on time. I kept a small circle because large ones came with too many opportunities for people to disappoint me.

Most of my free time belonged to books. Books had always been easier than people. Characters could hurt me, but at least I could close the cover when I had enough.