Dylan (18+) [ON HOLD]

chapter ten: S M I L E

Dylan

. . .

In most cases, I've always thought of murder as downright unacceptable. 

There's always another option, a better way.

Repeated, prolonged maiming on the other hand, is absolutely fucking ideal.

It had been one thing to find out that Gabby had known the guy who hurt her. It was another thing for the piece of shit to admit it.

He'd been quick to talk, no qualms about saying exactly what he'd done. But that was just it—what he'd done. Not the other guy. Because there was another guy.

How can you offer someone a plea deal when they're already pleading guilty? They'd tried offering him a lesser sentence in exchange for giving up the other guy, hell, the four of us, me, Derek, Russ, and Levi had tried bribery. Separately, in gradually increasing amounts. And then together forming an absolutely disgusting amount of money.

The little shit wanted none of it.

I'd been at the station, watching him through the one-way glass, my brothers and Gabby's father at my sides.

Victor, moving ever so slowly, putting on a show, placed his handcuffed hands on the table in front of him, clasping them together. Then, just as slow, he lifted his head, cocking it to the side to reveal a hardened expression.

He couldn't have seen us, and yet it seemed he did, boring into us with beady, shit-colored eyes.

A second passed and his eyebrows softened, drooping as he gave an ultra-bright grin.

Gabby hadn't told her parents what happened that night. But her dad had been given the rundown upon arriving to the station.

And with the sight of Victor's smile, it had taken both of my older brothers to hold him at bay. Gabriel de Santis' first daughter was not the boy he had hoped. But, she was still his baby, and he loved her so dearly that she was named after him.

The man is in most aspects, prickly. He rarely speaks. But his silence speaks volumes. As do the silent tears that trail down his sun-weathered cheeks.

Victor kept smiling. Smiling like he knew he'd won.

In a way he had. We had him, and with his confession and Gabby's testimony, he'd be in jail soon. But, we didn't have the other one.

Because that rat bastard said he didn't know who the other guy was.

Bullshit.

But we couldn't get him to admit that—not legally anyway.

Shaking hands with Detective Foley, we make our way out of the station and into our respective cars, Levi taking it upon himself to drive a distressed Gabriel home.

My breathing feels almost lazy as I make my way to my penthouse. As I make my way inside, I want nothing more than to either get a massage or to punch something.

Fuck, I'd really like to punch something.

Tension is coiled in my shoulders, tightening my muscles to the point of discomfort. I roll my neck to attempt to ease the ache finding that it helps a bit. I've just tossed my keys onto the kitchen counter when a cough comes from the living room.

There sitting on the pale pink sectional she chose for herself is Stella.

"Hello, Dylan."

She's pissed. Visibly so. Her usually wavy blonde hair has been straightened and pulled into a tight ponytail.