Page 112 of At The End Of The Day

They nodded in agreement.

“Has she ever been one to embellish or lie about anything, even trivial bullshit?”

A collective no rumbled through the group.

“So, if she was here, standing beside me, telling you that Jackyl moved in on her when she was sixteen years old, you’d believe her?”

A shock wave rolled through the crowd, suddenly no one having anything to say. Everyone except Wads who muttered, “I fucking knew it.”

“Jackyl Bianchi is a predator,” I reiterated with more authority, tapping into the rage of betrayal left behind for what he did. “He brainwashed my sister when she was at her lowest to make her rely on him. That wasn’t good enough for him, though,” I shouted, swiping an arm through the air. “No, once he got her, married her, and then knocked her up immediately, he began to abuse her.”

“Bullshit,” someone stated, causing Dash to swipe the gun in his direction.

“You calling my sister a liar?” I bellowed so loud, my throat scratched. Stomping to the edge of the platform, foam was spitting out as I screamed. “You got balls, Bishop? Get the fuck up here, look me in the eyes, and say it to my face. Tell me my sister is lying.”

“She’s not,” Tinkerbell chimed, her palms on her face. “Oh, shit, Vin, I…I saw the bruises. She always had a good excuse, though.”

“No way,” Bishop croaked. “Really?”

No longer feeling any apprehension, I was now defending Violetta’s honor. “He beat her, he cheated on her with Mary.”

Another gasp, the focus shifting to Dash now. He scowled, his eyelids thinning further.

“He drugged my sister and raped her repeatedly.”

“Oh, shit,” was repeated several times.

“Then, when she tried to leave him, he tracked us down to Georgia and tried to kill me, Dash, her, and their babies.”

“Oh, my god.”

“So don’t you dare fucking stand here and tell me anything where that son of a bitch is concerned. He was a monster and I’m glad he’s dead.”

More astounded reactions, myself included. Well, there was that answer. No reason to dwell on any guilt any longer, apparently. Still, I cast a nervous glance at the office, worried about only one person’s response to what I just said. Since I wasn’t dead, I could only assume he was okay.

“Look at us,” I went on to say. “Six broken ribs and a gunshot wound,” I blurted, jabbing my chest with my thumb. Throwing my arm out to point, I roared, “Six gunshot wounds! Violetta was shot and nearly died in my fucking arms. You were not there! Not one single person saw what we saw. He ripped us and that house to pieces with a goddamn semi-automatic weapon. Anyone here knew he had that? No?” I chortled bitterly as dozens of shocked people shook their heads. “Me, neither. A gun like that don’t get hidden if you got good intentions. None of you will ever know that kind of fucking evil we met on that mountain!”

My voice rang in the ear and echoed a bit, the room deathly quiet, no one keeping eye contact more than a few seconds.

I cleared my throat and bent over, grimacing in pain. Tapping the button to call Boss, I glanced over my shoulder to make sure the image showed clearly on the wall.

“Someone wants to talk to everyone.”

“Who?”

Standing upright, a brow arched, I crossed my arms and sneered. “The Boss.”

More gasps and murmurs, for no one knew exactly who he was. They’d heard his voice, but that was it.

Me and Dash exchanged glances and then turned to face the projected image. He answered the phone and his blurred silhouette spread over the metal wall.

“Good evening, everyone.”

A few ooh’s and ahh’s cooed, but one person shouted, “Holy, shit, I know who that is.”

Fear sliced through my core and before my brain could catch up, I snatched my gun from the back waist of my jeans, cocked, aimed, and pulled the trigger, dropping Sam dead in less than three seconds.

Chapter 46