Page 130 of At The End Of The Day

Chapter 52

Dario “Dash” Mangiacavallo

Saturday 10.26.2019

All my weight was in one leg, the other foot crossing that ankle to prop on the toe of my boot. An arm across my chest, the other set on top to hold a beer near my mouth, I was leaning into one of the support beams on my old screened in porch. Just off to the side of the deck, I was staring at the spot Vincent and I danced in the rain, eventually ending up in the wooden chaise to make love for damn near close to an hour. A mischief smirk curling one side of my mouth, excitement was swirling around my stomach, recalling every sensation, every delicious kiss, every incredible moan. Just the way that man looked at me when our bodies were together was fucking unbelievable.

Chickens clucked and crowed, breaking the spell. Scowling, my attention shot to the backyard at the feathered rats strutting around, shitting all over my grass. Goddamn worthless rodents. They should be deep frying on my stove right now.

“Fucking chicken shit’s everywhere.”

“It’s good fertilizer,” Violetta giggled.

A brow arching, I cast a glimpse her way over my shoulder. “Already an expert on this shit now, huh?”

One side of her face scrunching, she shrugged, peering out at the yard, as well. “I’m learning. It’s a lot!” she snorted, her expression showing she was a little overwhelmed.

I clucked my teeth and returned my focus to the mangy balls of filthy feathers. “You’ll get the hang of it. Ain’t nothing to worry about.”

For several moments, I could literally feel her scrutinizing me. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy, Dash.”

Heat rising to my face, I bowed my chin to cast another sideways glance. A chuckle pushing through my nose, I took a sip, strolled over to one of the deep, wicker armchairs, and plopped down with a groan, resting an ankle on my knee. “I don’t think I have been.”

She was beaming ear to ear, her legs crossed, a foot bouncing in the air. “On one hand, I still can’t believe this is happening, but when I stop and think about it, it totally makes sense and I can’t believe it hasn’t happened yet.”

Snorting, my fingers spread out before slapping to the chair’s arm. “Right? That’s how I feel. I mean, I look back on everything I can remember since we met and I’m like, why the hell did it take so long?”

Her smile faltering, she gazed out at the yard and heaved a long sigh. “I just wish Vinny had told me, you know? It really hurts that all these years, he never felt safe enough to talk to me about it. It hurts my soul to know he hid so long, feeling all alone in the world. Thanks to that fucker, Billy Wagner.”

My teeth grinding, I stared down into the bottle, my tongue tapping. “Yup. He’s lucky he’s dead because…” Realizing I was speaking intrusive thoughts aloud, I clammed up and cleared my throat, averting my gaze.

She just snorted and folded her arms, scowling. “You don’t need to finish that thought, but I agree. I’ve never hated someone so much before. Especially someone I’ve never met. Don’t get me wrong,” she added quickly while sitting up, waving a palm. “I am forever grateful for what he did, you know, taking care of my kids like he did. That was pretty admirable—”

“But if he wasn’t holding Vin under his thumb, you really think he would have been so quick and noble?”

Her lips so taut, they were practically invisible, rage flickered in her light blue irises. “Nope. Someone like him, every ‘favor,’” she hissed and hooked her fingers in the air. “Has strings attached.”

“Yeah, well, the fucker’s dead, that’s all that matters.”

“At Vinny’s expense, though. He’s forever going to carry that guilt, blaming himself.”

I snorted and rolled my eyes, taking another swig. She had no idea. No one knew that man sometimes woke up sobbing in the middle of the night from a dead sleep, and I had to hold him until he calmed. Vincent was plagued with nightmares, Billy haunting him from the grave. Even dead, that son of a bitch was pulling his strings, keeping control.

Then again, I woke up in cold sweats just as often because of Jackyl. They were both laughing at us from hell.

Coughing, I grew a little anxious, her words on repeat in my thoughts. “So, uh, ahem. You’re upset over Vin’s omission of truth, huh?”

“I mean, yeah, a little. We were supposed to be best friends, how could he keep something so important from me?”

“So, uh.” I continued to cast her fleeting glimpses, still not positive I wanted to say anything, or not. “What if it was something that you didn’t like, or that would hurt you? Would you still want to know?”

As suspected, she immediately picked up I was hiding something. There was no fooling Violetta Bianchi. She was by far, the smartest, wittiest person I’d ever met. She would have been a fantastic lawyer.

“No matter what it is, I’d rather know and process the information than be blindsided later on, especially if someone had that secret and wanted to use it as a weapon against me, so instead of beating around the bush, how about you just man up and tell me what you’re hiding, Dash?”

I grimaced, my stomach falling. “Fuck,” I grumbled, my boot stomping to the floor. “Right for the gnads, huh?”

A thin brow arching, her eyelids thinned. “Waiting.”