Chapter Fifteen— Vinny
I stayed up all night.
Physically exhausted, but my mind wouldn't shut the hell up. It kept replaying everything — my hands on Jamie, her hands on me, the small sounds she made when I—
I told myself I was going to talk to her about what happened. The night before last. And last night.
But every time I tried to piece the words together, they crumbled in my head.
What the fuck was I even supposed to say?
Hey, sorry I tried to fuck you in my sleep.
Twice now. First time was an accident — I was dreaming about my dead wife.
Second time? I was awake. Just didn't want you to know.
But now I'm thinking maybe I should stop pretending and just fuck you so deep you forget I ever said her name while touching you.
Yeah. That didn't sound like anything she'd give a fuck to hear.
I didn't tell her I'd been awake that second night. Didn't tell her I'd felt every second of her hand on me and let it happen anyway. Some confessions didn't set you free. They just made you more of a monster.
I also wanted to ask her why she let me.
What was it? Pity? Kindness? Mercy?
I hadn't been a man who needed those things in years. After Sophia was gone, I stopped looking for comfort. Stopped expecting grace. Built a life on control, silence, hardness.
Pity didn't keep you alive.
Kindness didn't pull triggers.
Mercy got you killed.
Emotions made you weak.
So I buried all that shit. Did what I had to.
Before I could figure out how to explain any of it, my phone buzzed against the nightstand.
I grabbed it, checking the caller ID. My eyes narrowed.
Virginia.
Of course it was.
I stared at the screen, jaw tight, then thumbed the answer button.
Her voice came through, rough as always. "Bael says you're out. I need one last favor."
She said it like she was asking me to pick up milk, not step back into hell.
"So here's where we're at," she continued. "You and Bael had a deal. But you insisted on working for me. That agreement?" A pause. "Nothing to do with me. So I don't owe you shit. But I talked to my son, and I agreed to call it even. One last thing. Then you're done."
She waited.
I wanted to laugh. One last favor. There was no such thing.
But I'd never known how to say no.
"Yeah. I can do that."
I didn't trust it, though. That it would actually be the end.
I hung up and called Bael.
"Your mother called me. She telling the truth?" I asked the second he picked up.
"Yeah. I would've told her to fuck off, but I know you. You can't just walk away. So I told her — one last errand, then she leaves you alone." He paused. "But be careful."
"You think it's a setup?"
He paused just a second too long. "I don't know. But I wouldn't go in there alone. Egypt's got me on kid duty, or I'd slide with you. I'm sending someone to watch your back, though."
It might have been a setup. But then why would she call Bael first? Part of me wanted to say fuck it. But another part needed this closure. And if Bael said he was sending someone, that was enough. I'd known him too long to doubt him now.
So I was going.
I texted Virginia for the address.
I didn't wake Jamie up to tell her where I was going. Didn't even look at her when I left. Just grabbed my keys and walked out.
I drove fifteen minutes to a warehouse in Channelside.
It was three in the morning, and the air outside was still hot, clinging to my skin. The smells fucked with my senses — rust and wet rope, something rotting under the docks.
I ran my tongue over my teeth, pushing down the urge to spit, as I pulled open a big metal door.
Virginia was already waiting.
"You came," she said, smiling like we were old friends.
My hand stayed close to my waist, fingers brushing the grip of my Glock.
"Where's everybody at?"
She shook her head. "It's just me and you."
My eyebrow rose. She didn't go anywhere without someone to do her dirty work.
She took a step closer. "I went through that warehouse footage from the other night. That girl you brought in? She looks like your wife."
She flashed her phone at me. A picture of Sophia lit up the screen.
My chest tightened.
Fuck.
"I don't think you killed her," Virginia continued, her voice light, almost amused. "I think you couldn't. And now I need to know where she is."
I heard it then — the soft glide of her gun against the fabric of her jeans as she pulled it from the small of her back. She aimed it at my forehead.
I'd been in too many of these situations. My heart rate barely increased.
Two men stepped out of the shadows behind her.
Armed. Nobody I knew. Her crew were Black men.
These two looked hired from some hillbilly hell.
She wouldn't use her own people — then they'd know she was capable of betrayal.
And her men were looking for any excuse to take her down.
Men in this world didn't like taking orders from women.
"Tell me where she is, Vinny."
I stared at her, blood roaring in my ears.
Then I said it clear. "Go fuck yourself."
I moved before she could blink.
My Glock was out before her pupils fully dilated in surprise. The first shot hit the guy on the right. The other one fired back.
The bullet caught me in the back as I ran out the door.
It knocked the wind out of me, sent me stumbling. I hit the dock at full speed, then slipped off the edge and went under.
The water was so cold the blood in my veins chilled. The pain made it worse.
Then everything went black