Page 91 of At The End Of The Day

My bottom lip pursing, I was confused. “Of course. I don’t know what—”

His eyes moved about to search my face before landing on mine. “I don’t want the guest room, Vin.”

A second time, a burst of adrenaline hit, sending my heartbeat into a tailspin of emotions that clogged my throat. “But… The Serpents…”

“They either accept us or we move to Sicily, where I’m from. I got an old villa out there my folks gave me years ago, trying to get me to leave the gang. It’s still there. Untouched.” Another trace of fear hit, his breaths shallowing. “If that’s okay with you.”

My chest was starting to burn from the intense sensations overwhelming me. He’d already thought this out! Was this really happening? Was I actually about to get everything I’d always longed for with Dash? Was he really willing to take a stand?

Very stiffly, I nodded, combing my fingers through his hair. “Yeah, okay.”

His eyelids rounded and a breath hitched the back of his throat. “Then you’ll go with me if things get rough? You’ll move to Italy and help me raise my daughter?”

One corner of my mouth tugging, I nodded again. “I’ll help you raise our daughter anywhere you want, baby.”

He completely stopped breathing and blanched, the whites showing around his dark irises. His lashes fluttering, he emitted a husky groan and sagged against me, his face in the crook of my neck. Finally, his hold released so his arm could circle my torso.

“Thank you. I can’t lose you, too, Vin. I got nothing left.”

Pure joy and elation bursting inside like pops of fireworks, I couldn’t help but chuckle, just to release some of that energy. My lips in his hair, I whispered, “I ain’t going nowhere, Dario. You and me, ride or die.”

“Ride or die.”

“Yup.”

He sighed again and leaned closer, pushing us into the back of the cushions. A little uncomfortable because of my ribs, I sucked on my teeth and stretched out my legs, propping my feet on the coffee table to alleviate some of the pressure. Holding him like this, lounging on the sofa, his arms around me, my cheek on his head, was fucking amazing. This was what I had dreamed of having one day, never thinking I would because I had refused to let go of an adolescent fantasy of my first love with Billy.

A soft snore rumbled against my shoulder and I smiled. Carefully jutting my hip, I slowly pulled out my cellphone, tapped the screen, and brought up the search bar. Typing in what I was looking for, I filtered the list by the highest ratings, tapping their number, and brought the device to my ear.

When the receptionist answered, I kept my tone low, so as not to disturb Dash. “Hi, I need to make an appointment for a paternity test. As soon as possible.”

Chapter 38

Vincent da Silva

I entered Dash’s house with a stride of arrogance, having never felt so goddamn empowered in all my life. For the very first time, I cared about a man and he was, so far, willing to admit he cared about me, as well. Did he love me? That I wasn’t so sure of, but I was perfectly happy with what he was willing to offer. It was more than I’d ever been given before.

A grin plastered on my face, I cut through the dining room to the kitchen with the stack of flattened boxes I’d just purchased from Lowe’s. Dash was standing at the butcher block in the center of the room, earbuds in, bobbing to the music. His hair a little longer than usual, he was wearing a pair of sweats and nothing else, leaving his torso and all the wounds visible. Not nearly as decorated with ink as I was, the scars stood out, garishly, a constant reminder how goddamn close things had gotten in Georgia.

All the injuries were doing well, however. I had never seen someone heal as quickly as this man. He still hurt, hell, we both did, but it was not slowing him down. He wanted out of this house. Only two hours had passed since he uttered the words of moving in with me and he was already packing, ready to go.

Frowning, I looked around with a sense of eeriness. He and Piera weren’t the only ones who had seen Mary’s ghost around here. I’d had the unfortunate grace of witnessing her waltzing around the property a couple times, as well. It wasn’t just that her ghost was haunting this place, it was the way she looked; all wet and oozy with flesh missing, sticks and seaweed in her hair and clothes, her eyes a milky white over her once dark brown irises. And she never missed an opportunity to show off her stubby wrists. It was creepy as fuck.

Leaning the boxes against the opening between the kitchen and dining room, I approached him and slid my palm across his back. He choked on a snort and jumped, then hissed, folding his arm over his torso.

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry. I wasn’t even thinking.”

He smiled and removed the buds, tucking them in the pocket of his sweats. “You get the boxes?”

“Got about seventy-five. That should do it.”

He chortled and rolled his eyes. “You ain’t seen them toys lately.”

I grinned and rested my hip against the block, crossing my arms. “I know. I’m responsible for a good chunk of them toys up there.”

His smile softening, his sight roamed all over my face. Turning his profile to me, he picked up one of the plates, wrapped it in a towel, and placed it in the box he’d already been packing. “You always did spoil her like she was your own.”