Page 67 of At The End Of The Day

“Everything’s still in Georgia.”

He leaned to the side to stare at me with a sense of horror. Licking his lips, his head bobbed and he ducked back in. Hangers scraped over the bars and a couple minutes later, he was coming to the bed to toss what little clothes I had onto the empty side of the mattress. Whistling, he returned to the closet to get the smaller suitcase, the one Mary used to tote her makeup and purses in when we went on vacation, and began packing it, actually taking the time to fold my clothes. Every once in a while, he’d suck on his teeth and grimace but, otherwise, showed little signs of his injuries. I knew from experience how high his pain tolerance was, so this wasn’t surprising.

I smiled and slumped against the headboard, my arm hugging my stomach. Whatever changes may have happened between us while hiding out at my folks’ house, one thing stayed the same. Vincent da Silva was a solid dude, someone I could turn to no matter what. In any situation, that man would be there for me, no strings attached. He was my ride or die.

Chapter 27

Vincent da Silva

Pulling the vehicle into the carport, I shut off the engine, got out, and went to the back to unbuckle Piera first. She hopped to the ground, practically vibrating with energy, despite it being almost two in the morning. Fishing through the keys, I handed her the one that unlocked the door.

“Go on and open it for me, okay?”

“Okay.”

She jogged away and I went to the front passenger side. When I opened the door, he was staring at me with that intensity again, so I took a small backward step. His brow cocking, I cursed under my breath, bent, and unfastened his belt. In no rush, my hand dragged over his stomach as I carefully let the belt retract. My heart thumping in my ears, a shudder ran down my spine at his hot breaths against my cheek. His heat circled, pulling me in, making me feel part of his energy as I cast a fleeting glimpse his way.

Coughing, I tried to focus since it was already so damn late. Thankfully, getting into my house would be easier since all he had to do was step over the threshold. Sliding my arm behind his back, I helped him rise to his feet.

“Don’t pick me up this time. Not in front of my little girl.”

“Got it.”

His muscles tensed and his teeth gleamed, bracing for the pain.

“Ready, baby?” I whispered, already hating this.

“Nope. Let’s go.”

“On three. One, two, three.”

We both heaved a grunt, both feeling the ache as I hoisted him from the seat. He stumbled, one of his knees almost buckling. “Fuck,” he whimpered, briefly resting his forehead to my shoulder.

I shushed him and petted his nape that was already damp with sweat. “Tell me when, babe.”

Pulling deep breaths through his nose and exhaling through his mouth, his pants were seeping through my tee shirt, warming my skin. After a couple moments, he nodded and then lifted his head. “Ready.”

“Okay. Let’s go.”

Taking things as slow as possible, I led him into my house through the side door in the carport. Piera was already in the playroom, blasting the television, my keys discarded on the kitchen counter. We made our way past it to the hallway on the other side, both our bodies at the edge of exhaustion.

“I ain’t taking your room, Vin—”

“Then I gotta take you upstairs. You ready for that?”

“Shit.”

“Just shut up and let me take care of you. Goddamn.”

Kicking open the door, I was nearly dragging him the last few feet to the bed. Much like earlier, he crumbled to the mattress and shouted in protest, curling to hug his stomach.

“Fuck,” he whimpered, turning his face into the pillow. “I can’t do this no more, Vin. Please, just let me stay right here.”

My heart went out to him and hardened for Jackyl. “I can’t, baby. We’re almost done.”

“No, no—”

I held his ankles, lifted, and gently shifted them, rotating his body. He cried out, actual tears sliding down his face. “Stop, fucking stop, please.”