Page 3 of At The End Of The Day

I frowned, sorrow gripping my chest. The last time I was able to do that with Billy was when we were sixteen. That was fifteen years ago. In my heart, I knew I never would again. His wife was holding him like that right now, as she had every night for the last several years. As she would the rest of their lives. Until death do they part.

The tension building right back up, I leaned forward, snatched my smokes, and lit a cigarette, carelessly tossing everything to the desk. Filling my lungs with nicotine, I held my breath until it burned. I could either accept that loneliness and solitude was the price to pay for loving and being loved by Billy, or I could let him go and find someone else.

No matter what I chose, my heart was forever broken.

Chapter 3

Vincent da Silva

Sunday 8.18.2019

Slouched low in the leather chair, my legs were stretched wide under the table. My elbow propped on the arm, I was taking a long drag on my cigarette while scanning the monitors without paying much attention to anything. Unfortunately, my mind was back in Alabama with a certain William Wagner. Long, wavy blond hair, weather worn skin that was forever tanned from many hours in the sun, narrow, golden eyes, wide nose, squared jaw. Six foot three, two hundred fifteen pounds of solid, tattooed muscles that looked like a fucking god when he was riding his Harley down the road.

It had been nearly six months since I last saw him. His wife had gone home to Atlanta to attend her sister’s wedding, but, with a few side jobs to take care of, Billy hadn’t been able to join. Taking advantage, I had immediately driven to the Alabama Georgia border. The moment he opened the door, we’d been on one another like we were taking a deep breath moments from drowning. Over and over, we’d made love, professing our undying love to one another, promising to never let the other go.

Of course, because people were in and out of his garage with their Harley’s those couple days, we had still been reduced to stolen moments and quickies. Then, a fellow member of his motorcycle club had popped up unexpectedly, needing a place to crash, which kept us in separate beds all weekend.

I cursed and banged my head to the back of the chair to stare at the ceiling. Unfortunately, I was beginning to think that was a vow I wouldn’t be able to keep. I had hoped when I went to him before he got married six years ago, and we made passionate love, he had changed his mind. Standing near the altar, watching Rebecca stroll down the aisle in her beautiful dress looking absolutely stunning, my heart and soul had been burning to ashes. I had literally bitten down on my tongue until it bled to keep myself from screaming at the top of my lungs.

Instead of him calling everything off and once and for all openly committing to me, he had kissed his gorgeous bride with my cum still on his tongue. Had she tasted me? Did any part of her suspect her doting husband had been my secret lover for nearly twenty years?

Secret. I was and always would be just his dirty little secret. The last few days in this house, having no idea if I would live to see the next hour, my mind had been taking stock of every decision I’d ever made. While I couldn’t find any reason to bow to my knees to beg an unknown god for forgiveness, I was becoming all too clear of an entire lifetime wasted, hoping, dreaming, praying for more, but I was at last realizing I’d fooled myself.

I couldn’t even be angry with Billy because he never led me on, he never promised anything more than what we’d been since we were fifteen. In love, committed, but only in private, where no one else knew. We knew, he always said. What did it matter what the rest of society thought? It’s not about them, it’s about us.

What a cop out. Whereas I’d bought that line every time he fed it, I could now see what a load of horseshit it was. He loved me, I knew he did. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough to fulfill my needs. Every night, he got to climb into bed with his wife, a warm body who worshipped the ground he walked on. Every night, I crawled into bed alone. He wrapped his arms around his wife and dreamed of me while I had nightmares about them. They had dinners together, made plans for a family one day, took vacations together, while I stared at the ceiling in darkness, the quietness closing the walls in on me a little more every day.

“You okay, man?”

Blinking to shed my brooding, I craned my neck to gaze over at Dash entering the room. “Hm?”

His brows furrowing, he pointed and jutted his chin. “You spaced out.”

I looked down at my cigarette he was pointing to. It had burned down, ashes falling to the top of the desk. “Shit.” I sat up and smashed it out, picked up the glass tray, and swiped the ashes off the surface. “Sorry.”

“No worries. What’s up?”

Shrugging, I tossed the dish to the side and slumped again, resting my head to the back of the chair. “Just got a lot on my mind.”

He strode over and sat on the desk, crossing his arms. “Jackyl?”

Dread sank my gut and my eyelids fluttered closed, a knife twisting the center of my chest. That was another emotional dilemma I was facing. How could he? The best friend I ever had swept in while I was in prison and preyed on my sixteen-year-old little sister. I trusted him with my life, my sister was my life. Without her, I was nothing, I would not survive. She was everything and he ruined her. He stole her future, manipulated her young, innocent, impressionable mind, and created his personal toy. The budding adult with aspirations of law school was snubbed out to live the life of a gangbanger. The woman Violetta could have been was forever erased, along with all the potential for her to be better than we’d been raised. How could I ever forgive him?

I couldn’t. There was no coming back from that. Especially now that he was literally hunting her to kill her. He hurt Violetta. He drugged and raped her. He used and abused her over the years. He manipulated her life to steer her away from her own wants and dreams and groomed her to think and act for his sick desires. The list of betrayals from him just continued to lengthen.

We had no choice. Jackyl had to be dealt with. It was going to destroy me and permanently scar my very soul, but if we didn’t kill him, he would execute us all. This was about survival and there wasn’t a single thing in this world I wouldn’t sacrifice to ensure my sister was safe and happy. That included murdering my best friend since childhood.

Coughing, I snatched my smokes, knocked out a new cigarette, and lit it, flinging everything back to the desk. My lungs full of nicotine, I skimmed the monitors again, wondering where he was out there. Was he even here yet? Had he found us?

Jackyl had secretly given little Eddie a cellphone sometime before we left town. No one knew about it until he pulled it out his pocket and activated it Friday night. Reacting immediately, I had snatched it, thrown it to the floor, and shattered it, but it very well could have still pinged.

Besides, how many other times had he used it before we knew about it? The whole trip from Alabama to Georgia, he could have been playing games on it, letting his father follow us all the way to the front fucking door. Me and Violetta had spent most of the trip arguing about Tyler, so neither of us had paid the kids any attention. They’d been quiet in their car seats, minding their own business.

Or, so we thought. Now, my brain kept spinning with the possibility that he had inadvertently led Jackyl straight to us. Wasn’t that what we wanted, though? For him to come into the house so we could eliminate our problem?

I hated the waiting game, but I hated the inevitable, even more.

A wave of trepidation hit, my heart pattering a little faster. What if he was out there? The property was surrounded by a fence, but that didn’t mean nothing where Jackyl Bianchi was concerned. Twelve acres gave a lot of places to hide. Had it even been safe for me to take the kids on a hike yesterday?