Page 28 of At The End Of The Day

This time, he immediately shoved off and backed away. Turning maroon, he just shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re doing, man. You got no clue what you’re doing.”

Humiliated, I looked away and brought the cigarette to my mouth. Pulling a deep drag, I held the smoke in my lungs until it burned. For a moment, I searched my feelings, my inner most thoughts, and then said, “That’s true, but it don’t change what I’m feeling right now.”

When there was no answer, I peeked to the side but found the room empty. My insides plummeting, I gawked, the shame and disappointment riddling my body with pressure. Stomping to the opened door, I rushed to the railing and peered down just in time to see him disappearing beneath into the living room. A moment later, the back door slammed.

Rejected, I cursed and returned to my room, watching the cameras. It took a minute, but I eventually spotted him rushing down the trail, catching up to Violetta and the kids near the cave.

A growl rumbled up my chest from the pit of my gut, scratching my throat. Smashing the cigarette in the ashtray, I stormed to the door and shouted, “Bitch!”

A very irritated Tyler shouted back, “What?”

“Come here.” Going back to the desk, I sat down, tapping on the keyboard to start recording the feed. The floor creaked outside, so I called him again.

“What the…”

Ignoring him, I concentrated on the screen with Vincent. He was chasing the kids around the trees, acting like nothing was wrong.

“Dash?” Tyler asked, standing beside me. “What exactly do your parents do for a living?”

So discombobulated with everything going on in my scattered brain, I didn’t even think before honestly answering with, “Mafia.”

He threw his head back and rumbled with laughter, pressing the heel of a palm in an eye. “No, seriously.”

Bit by bit, I twisted my waist and tipped my head back to glare up at him.

Flushing, he stared, his jaw falling. Whispering, as if someone could actually hear, he asked, “There’s mafia in Georgia?”

Snorting and rolling my eyes, I gazed at Vincent once again. I just confessed a secret to Tyler I’d never divulged to even him. How could I be pissed at him concealing his sexuality when I’ve hidden something just as significant?

Frustrated, I snapped, “Oh, yeah. Lots of mobsters running the streets down here. Get the fuck outta here. We’re from Florida. This is just their vacation house. That’s why they ain’t here.”

He strolled to the other side, his hands on his sides. Not even questioning or even acting weird about it, he simply asked, “What’s up?”

“I need to head to town and do some shopping. This fucking beard is driving me up the goddamn wall. Man, I don’t know how you deal with it.” I grunted and scratched at my jaw, my upper lip curled. “Gotta get some food, too.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, so.” I pushed the chair back and stood. “You’re on duty.” I smacked the back of his shoulder and shoved him down.

He plopped to the leather, dumbfounded. “What? What am I looking for?”

“Anything that moves that ain’t family.”

“And if I see something?”

I froze, having not thought of that. “Oh, yeah. Uh. Huh.” Strutting across the room, I opened the closet that hid the gun safe. “You know how to shoot?”

“No!” he snorted, shrugging his hands out. “Are you kidding? I’m a fucking singer, not a banger.”

Now that was humorous. Chuckling through my nose, I opted for the Governor, quickly going through the motions of loading it. “That’s actually kinda funny, bitch.” Spinning around, I strode back to him, offering the gun.

For a moment, he just stared in horror.

“Man, take it. Here.” I held my hand out to the side to show him where my fingers were. “Hold it like this.”

Though he tried to hide it, his hand shook when he took the weapon, copying my movements to hold it properly. “And if I need to use it?”

“Use your thumb to pull that back.” I bent over to point. “Then pull the trigger. My only advice is aim low.”