Page 99 of At The End Of The Day

His lips twisted around his teeth, his tongue clicking. “Yeah, I’ll take care of that, son. Don’t you worry about it. Just.” He gazed at me sternly, his palm held out. “Try to keep things silent until I address it, okay?”

I nodded, a sense of relief flooding. I really wasn’t looking forward to fleeing to Italy, for that meant I would surely never see my sister or her kids again. I would, though. To keep my new family safe, I would go anywhere in the world and never look back.

“Yes, sir.”

His arms folding again, his focus raked along my frame. “You okay? How you healing?”

My head bobbing, I cleared my throat yet again. “Healing pretty good.”

“And your sister and that famous guy? Taylor Warren?”

“Tyler. Yeah, they’re good. He ain’t never gonna walk right again, but he’ll survive.”

“Shit.” He lowered his face to cover it, his thumb and fingers spreading to massage his temples. “I swear to god, Vin, I had no idea what he was doing.” Looking at me again, he spread that hand out to the side, his shoulders curling to his ears. “I mean, when he first came to me about being with Tiny, I told him then I felt a certain kinda way about it because of her age, but I swear, I had no idea it started when she was still in high school.”

My muscles tensing up once more, I nodded. “Yes, sir, I know. No one knew.”

We fell quiet for a moment, just staring at one another. Averting his gaze, he coughed and flipped a wrist. “I’ll take care of this. Get everyone gathered at the clubhouse this Friday for a meeting. Be ready to be outed, Vinny, because it’s coming.”

A mixture of relief, excitement, and fear crunched my stomach, but I did my best to conceal it. Giving one nod, I shoved my hands to my pockets. “Yes, sir.”

He pivoted and started walking back to his SUV. Opening the door, he turned to me once more and glared. “Y’all healed up enough to liquidate?”

Caught off guard, my brows furrowed and my chin tucked toward my chest. “Uh, yes, sir.”

“Good. Go ahead and get rid of Janelle. I’m sick of her shit, anyhow. And make sure your boys get checked. I think she’s diseased.”

My eyelids rounded and then I cursed, enraged at the notion. “Yes, sir.”

“After Friday, it’s back to work, Vin. You and Dash had enough time to heal. Get busy. Got a shipment coming in from Savannah next week and I don’t trust no one but you now that my boy’s gone.”

The corner of my mouth wanted to curl with a smile at the compliment, but it was laced with sorrow at the mention of Jackyl. “Yes, sir.”

He got back in his vehicle, replaced the sunglasses, started the engine, and made a u-turn. When the trees surrounding the house swallowed the shiny black SUV, I exhaled fully and slumped forward a bit, the rush of relief so severe, my knees nearly buckled. Ross Murphey was going soft because normally I would have had my ass handed to me for daring to call for a meeting. I could only assume he was still grieving over the loss of his first-born son. Though everyone thought Jackson Bianchi was his real father, the only two people left alive who knew the truth was myself and the chief of police, and neither of us would ever say a word.

Turning, I went back inside to get the last couple boxes and head home. My boyfriend was sick and needed some TLC.

Literally tripping over my feet, my palm slapped to the wall to catch my balance, my heart slamming into my ribs, hard. Snatching the breath from my lungs, my jaw was gaping, emotions overwhelming my system and breaking me out in goosebumps. Boyfriend. I had a boyfriend? I had a boyfriend! Holy fucking shit, I had a boyfriend, and everyone was about to find out. I wasn’t going to be hidden.

Everyone including the Serpents. Soon afterward, other gangs in the area. I cursed and pinched the bridge of my nose, strolling further into the house. We had a few days before the blowout happened on Friday, we may as well enjoy the peace before the shit hit the fan.

Chapter 42

Vincent da silva

Wednesday 10.09.2019

Dash was nervous, more so than I’d ever seen. Who could blame him, though? Today, he was getting a DNA test to see if Piera was his. For a man who never wanted kids, he was obsessed with his daughter, but in a good way. Not the sick, dastardly Jackyl Bianchi manner. He was hellbent on giving her a better life than he had. He may have grown up with a silver spoon in his mouth, but had been neglected everywhere else, and that was one thing I could say would never be an issue with Piera. She was still spoiled, getting everything she could ever dream of having, but he balanced it out with one on one interaction. Every free minute he had was taking her to the park to run around and get dirty, or laying on the floor to play with her dolls. More than once, he’d shown up to work with nail polish from a makeover the night before. Dash was a damn good father.

His palms were rubbing up and down the sides of his thighs as he walked toward me after signing in with the receptionist. Looking all around, he flinched when making eye contact with someone else. His chin bowing, he hurried to the seat beside me and sat down.

“Why’d you pick this place?”

Flipping through a magazine, I mumbled out the corner of my mouth, low enough for just him to hear. “I brought Letta out here a few years ago. It was far enough away from home that Jackyl wouldn’t find out.”

He did a doubletake and ogled my profile. Whispering, “No, shit,” his jaw fell further. “When?”

I huffed, closed the magazine, and tossed it back to the low table. “With Eddie.”