Page 42 of At The End Of The Day

“Transparency,” I chortled, both brows creasing.

Glaring, he crossed his arms. “Did I rat you out when I was eighteen and you and your buddies beat the shit out of me?”

Taken aback, the smile knocked from my face. Well, he had a point there. I knew for a fact, the cops had been all over his ass for months, trying to get him to talk, but he never did. At any given moment, he could have had us all in jail.

“Why didn’t you?”

Fire flickering in his dark blue eyes, his voice was gravelly when he said, “Because I deserved what I got for what I did to Letta.”

Yet again, the man was surprising me.

“I don’t condone what you guys do, I don’t even want to try to think about what you guys think about. But if it comes between me and Letta and starts affecting our relationship, you best believe I’m turning a blind eye because I ain’t never,” he hissed, slicing a hand through the air. “Gonna screw this up again. It took me too goddamn long to get this second chance so if it means going blind to the Serpents, then I’m fucking blind, man.”

A long, slow breath pulled through my nostrils, taking in his response. I believed him. I could sell dope right in front of him, I could slit someone’s throat, and he would pretend like he saw nothing to keep peace with Violetta. It may be for different reasons my brothers and sisters joined, but Tyler was loyal to the Serpents.

“Where’s that piece I gave you?”

He snorted and fanned his hands out. “Piece of what?”

“The gun, bitch. Where’s the gun?”

“In my drawer.”

“Get it. From here on out, it don’t leave your body. I want it within reach at all times.”

Groaning, his head bobbed low. “Yeah, okay.”

For a moment, I debated my next words. “I used to bet on you when you was in high school.”

Startled, his attention snapped to mine, a wildness about his dark blue irises. “What?”

Jutting my chin, I said, “When you played ball. You were good. Real good. Never lost a bet on you once.”

He coughed and averted his gaze, suddenly uncomfortable.

“You definitely woulda made it to the NBA.”

A bitter scoff had his features twisted, rage flickering in his glare. “Yeah, well, different life, right?”

“No, I’m still betting on you.”

His eyelids squinted as we stared at one another in quietness.

I pushed off the sink and strolled for the exit of the kitchen, pausing to pat him on the back of the shoulder. “Go be with your family, bitch. Tiny’s not gonna be okay tonight.”

“No, shit,” he grumbled.

I gave another firm pat and headed for the stairs. The countdown had officially begun and soon, one of my oldest and closest friends would be dead. It was going to break my heart, but Jackyl brought this on himself.

Chapter 18

Vincent da Silva

Friday, 08.30.2019

My heart was racing with anticipation, excitement fluttering my stomach. Gripping the kids’ hands harder than intended, my breathing was shallowing, waiting for that shiny black door to open. When it did and Rebecca was standing before me, a surge of adrenaline hit my veins, flushing me so hot, perspiration immediately sheened my forehead. She was around five foot eight with a perfect, hourglass figure thanks to the boob job her husband bought her while they were still dating. Her skin a gold tan, she had a heart shaped face with wide, light brown eyes, a long, thin nose, and thick, full lips that were spread in a bright smile. By far, she was the absolute, most gorgeous woman I’d ever laid eyes on, inside and out.

“Hey, you,” she sang, tucking her bleached blonde hair behind an ear. “Been a while.”