Chapter 12 #2
“Not yet. She’s being made.” Levi sat down on a stool and chugged the rest of his beer.
He shifted and observed a few of his boys around a barrel playing cards.
I hadn’t noticed them until now, but it wasn’t much of a surprise.
Levi didn’t go many places without his own set of followers. “We will see the outcome soon.”
“You called me here for this?” I asked. “How am I supposed to show you the outcome when you won’t let me work?”
Levi didn’t answer me. He snapped his fingers and held out his hand to one of his tall, gangly men. I didn’t care enough to remember their names. This one was blond, with short, buzzed hair. He placed a file in his hands and hovered by Levi protectively.
I stepped forward and accepted the file.
Not wasting a second, I flipped it open and felt my breath catch in the back of my throat.
Photos of Quinntessa on the football field filled the folder.
They were taken from the visitor’s side.
It was dark, with only the lights above helping her see, well past the time I would be there to observe her before picking up Estelle from school.
One picture in particular caught my attention. She was walking back to her car through the dark parking lot, a shadow of a large man behind her in the shot.
It was distant enough that Quinntessa was unaware, but whoever was there followed closely. Without a doubt, she was too na?ve to know to watch out for someone.
My blood boiled seeing her so oblivious. Her headphones were over her ears, and she had her nose in that damn book again. Who the fuck read that much?
“I know what she looks like,” I said through gritted teeth. Levi’s hard, hawkish eyes monitored me like he wished to crawl into my thoughts. The throbbing in my fist pounded quick against my bruising knuckles. Quinntessa’s monumental honeycomb eyes remained in my head, away from Levi’s reach.
I wouldn’t let him reach them. I protected my first memory of her eyes in the sun, the overwhelming amount of darkness within them, tooth and nail. I couldn’t describe the sheer amount of anger that flowed through me at the idea of someone else touching her.
Killing her. I was going to be the one who killed her, not these undeserving boys.
“I go to school with her.”
“I’m aware.” Levi smirked.
“What’s with the pictures, then?” I slapped the folder closed and tossed it onto the table.
He stared down at his beer, his thumb brushing the neck of the bottle before he turned his nose up at the scattered photos. His lips pressed tight together in a thin, pale line.
“Make a move.” Levi’s eyes dragged to mine, sipping his drink.
The bottle hit the tabletop with an echoing clunk as he stood. He brushed past me, our leather jackets grazing one another.
“You wanna be something here that keeps you from ending up like him?” Levi tugged his gun out from his waistband and pointed it in Jamison’s direction. “Then make a fucking move and quit being square!”
I watched Jamison’s eyes widen for a millisecond.
An empty, almost blank, expression crossed his features.
His cute baby-face shined with youth as it plummeted to the ground.
Jamison’s body folded over himself and disappeared inside the stall before the blood from his face could pour.
The thud of his body echoed in my ears over the ruffling of poker chips and cards.
A struggled squeak came from inside the stall, the last breath of the boy wonder everyone in Murdafest dreamed of watching start on the diamond at LSU in a few years.
The Chronicles said it had been his dream since he was a young boy, when his grandfather took him to visit for his birthday. Jamison—sweet, baby boy Jamison—knew he would be on baseball cards at the fresh age of six.
There was a second I felt genuine pain. I thought it was my heart, but soon, I learned it was my mouth. The vein in my neck pulsed tight as I bit down on my tongue so hard, it clipped the end and bled a bitter metallic. My taste buds fizzled with desperation to escape the taste.
I fought off the urge to vomit and stared down at the wall where he once stood. Blood sprinkled the old, abused wood, joining plenty of other bodily stains.
I’d seen men killed, but I’d never watched someone my age die. It reminded me how close to death I really was. If he had turned that gun on me, my daughter would never learn how much I loved her. She was too young to know now. I wanted to make it to an age she would really know.
“That was stupid.” I swallowed the blood in my mouth and pursed my lips.
Levi reloaded the gun and handed it to me. I took it and held it close. My eyes slowly glared up at him through the droop of my eyelids. My scowl couldn’t have been more obvious.
“No.” Levi produced a sickening smile. “What was stupid was bringing him here in the first place. Now we have to clean up the mess. Oscar?”
The dark-haired boy smirked as Levi turned. It fell quickly when Levi continued past him, not meeting his eyes.
“Clean up your mess.” He pulled out a cigarette and walked out the open barn door to stare out into the woods.
Oscar squeezed his fists at his sides. He shook his head in disgust and dragged his feet to the stall. Before he could open the stall door, I stepped forward and grabbed his elbow.
“Wait.”
He ripped his arm back, lip curling at my touch.
I gave him space and glanced toward the horse stall, then to the men hanging around the barn. Most were filing out after Levi. They never let him out of their sight, a perk that came with being higher up.
“Let me handle it.” I shocked myself with the offer.
Oscar was just as bewildered. He stood there with a slight shuffle of his feet. I raised my brows and nicked the barrel of my gun against his hip.
“I said I’d fucking handle it, Vincent. Get the hell out of my barn,” I snarled with such anger, Oscar raised his hands in surrender.