Page 133 of Forgotten Sacrifice

“How do you know?—”

“Saw her scars when we were hanging out at Bridget’s. You’re cutting yourself, too, Vince, except you’re bleeding internally.”

Maybe he’s right, but it’s too late. I’ve already cut my femoral artery, and I’m bleeding out.

There’s a knock on the door.

“You expecting company?” I ask.

“No.”

I grab my gun from the coffee table, stuffing it in the waistband of my shorts before walking to the door and glancing out the peephole. “I’ve got to handle some family business,” I tell Aldo. “If I don’t make it back, I want you to keep an eye on Luna. Look out for her, even if she doesn’t want you to.”

“Goddammit, Vince. I hate this!” Tears stream down my brother’s face.

I go to him and wrap my arms around my baby brother, smoothing his hair like I did when we were kids. “I’m proud of the man you’ve become. Always remember that.”

Another knock, this one more insistent.

“It’s time,” I say, letting go.

“Vince, I love you,” Aldo tells me, using the hem of his shirt to wipe his face.

“Love you too, little brother. Lock up behind me.”

I step outside and close the door to find the family’s hit man waiting for me. “Darius.”

“Vince. Come with me.”

I walk to his car, sliding into the passenger seat. “You doing the dirty work?” I ask, proud that my voice is steady.

“Nah, I’m the delivery boy,” he says, looking over his shoulder before we take off.

“So I’m not getting knocked off tonight?” I press.

His face is unreadable. “I didn’t say that.”

I let out a heavy breath. “Come on, just tell me.”

“I’m taking you to meet with the boss. That’s all I know. Scout’s honor.” He places his right hand on his heart.

“You’re no scout.”

He flips on classical music. “True enough.”

“How’s your family?” Might as well make my last ride a pleasant one.

“Getting bigger. Lily and I are expecting.” He beams.

“Congrats. That’s great news,” I tell him.

“Thanks. Couldn’t be happier. I’m one lucky son of a bitch.”

“You believe in luck?”

“Wouldn’t be here with you today if not for it.”

“Lucky me,” I mutter.