I’ll always love you.

Vince

There was no way the tears weren’t coming now. She read it a couple of more times, wiping away the tears as she cried openly. As painful as this was, this was the closure she’d needed. He was saying the very thing that she’d wondered about all this time. He would never change. And what hurt most is he’d always known it. No matter how much he’d assured her he loved her and wanted to change, deep inside he’d always known he couldn’t. Not even for her like he’d said so many times. This was who he was.

Reaching for her pink Baloo who sat on her bed staring at her as if he knew it was finally over, too, she wrapped one arm around him and held on tightly to Vincent’s farewell letter, laying her head down onto her pillow. She didn’t think it possible that she had any tears left for Vincent, but she did—lots and lots more.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Vince

Pitch black—Vince lay there blinking his eyes, hoping some light, any light would begin to trickle in as soon as his eyes could focus, but there was nothing. He could hear gunfire and helicopters but couldn’t see a damn thing. It was as if he was squeezing his eyes shut; it was so dark, but he could feel himself blinking. The explosions were an instant reminder of where he was. He could hear them in the distance, but no light, not even from the explosions, penetrated this darkness. His heart began to pound as the possibility that maybe he was blind set in.

Licking his excruciatingly dry lips, he tasted the dirt and sweat and who knew what other filth was on them, so he tried to move to the side to spit. A pain like none he’d ever felt pierced through his elbow and shot up to his shoulder as he tried to move it. He stifled in a growl, gritting his teeth together.

He had no idea where he was or how he’d gotten there. The last thing he wanted to do was alert someone that might be the enemy of his whereabouts. The only thing he remembered was jumping out of the helicopter and bouncing so many times when he landed, and then everything going black before waking here.

The pain in his arm began to subside but very slowly. As far as he could tell no part of his body was pinned down by anything, but he couldn’t know for sure without trying to move. Only he was afraid to move any other part of his body now for fear it would hurt just as bad as his arm. After what seemed like maybe hours of lying there waiting and trying to regain some strength before getting up, the bombing outside became less intense.

Vince tried again to at least feel his way around. Was there even sitting room? He lifted his other hand, and that wiped away the theory he’d begun to think as he lay there that he might be in a coffin. There was room all around him. He wasn’t in a box. Something next to him moved, causing him to flinch suddenly, and the pain that scorched through his arm again was so intense he fell back crying out this time unable to hold it.

“Fucking shit! Shit! Shit!” He held his arm as he felt his body drain of any strength he’d manage to regain. As the throbbing seemed to intensify, he lay there breathing hard and groaning with every bolt of pain that seemed to scorch straight from his elbow to his shoulder.

Just like all the other times when Vince thought things couldn’t get any worse, he’d think back to that night: the night it all went down. He asked himself once again if he’d do it all the same again. The night Alfonso had unwittingly let him in on what ultimately landed Vince’s ass here. He’d played it out so many times in his head over and over. Would he have done anything differently? But then, looking back, it had all happened so fast he’d hardly had time to think it through. Vince squeezed his eyes shut, wincing in pain as once again that night he walked out of El Taco Loco with Alfonso played out in his head as vividly as if it had just happened yesterday.

Then…

Alfonso and Vince walked out of the taco joint. Vince didn’t want to waste too much time. As much as he dreaded having that inevitable Ben conversation with Rose, he needed to get a few things straight. Vince would never have the patience for this kind of shit. Rose needed to understand that, especially when it came to Ben.

But he was still curious about Alfonso’s deal, so he’d hear him out first. Nothing sounded better than getting his own wheels sooner than he anticipated.

Alfonso slipped a cigarette into the corner of his lips and spoke even while lighting up. “So I was talking to Chuy the other day. He’s got a couple of cars he’s looking to unload. They’re both clean—tags, pinks, everything. I told him about you needing a car soon, and then I mentioned that maybe you and Enzo can cut him in on a deal with some of that weed. You know work something out. He’d let the car go for real cheap.”

Vince stared at Alfonso already feeling tense. “What weed? I haven’t dealt in years.”

Taking a drag of his cigarette, Alfonso eyed him with a smirk. “So are you two just doing it on the down low? Because from what I hear, Enzo’s pretty obvious about it.”

Vince’s body went even tenser. “Enzo?”

Suddenly there was understanding in Alfonso’s face. “You didn’t know? Junior, from up my block is the one that told me. He’s not sure if he’s actually selling or just delivering like you used to, but he saw him exchanging shit with some dudes in the Rancho Market parking lot. I thought for sure it was something you two were in on together.”

Already feeling like kicking his brother’s ass, Vince tried to remain calm. “How long ago was this?”

“He told me last week, and I was gonna talk to you about this sooner, but I hardly ever see you these days.”