After a minute-long assessment of me, he lights a cigarette and takes a deep inhale, his exhale clouding my face before he speaks.
“All right, Ezekiel. You found me. How?”
“First mistake, they faced me forward on the seat. From then on, it was a matter of tuning them out and keeping up with the turns, light counts, the time between them, and speed.”
“Like you, I don’t make the same mistake twice.” He lifts a blistering gaze to the two men on both sides of me, and I know I might have cost them. He squares his shoulders, but I can see the sting in his eyes and some of the contempt I’ve earned with my stunt. “Ego can be dangerous. Maybe I should have asked who you are.”
With the lift of his chin, the men at my side bring me to my feet before closing the door behind them.
Once alone, we stare at each other for several seconds, and I know my time is limited.
“It was your reputation that had me seeking you out. I don’t sell people, drugs, or guns, and never will. Who am I? For the moment, I’m an orphan and penniless thief, and my ambitions don’t suit yours. However, I’m thinking maybe we can help each other, Antoine.”
Gunning the gas, I race down the deserted roads next to Cecelia’s house, sorting through the details of that day and the decisions of the years after. Did I distort all our futures that night? That move was my first on a new board and gave me my first real taste for the game.
Was it the beginning or the end?
I was desperate enough to associate myself with dangerous allies back then, but I had no idea the true cost. The tradeoff.
Those who have trusted me in the past—who shared my vision—eventually ran out of loyalty for me, and it’s no mystery why. I can’t blame them, any of them, for their flailing allegiance, or Cecelia now for her mistrust. All I can do is try to believe the woman who came back to me, who once believed in me. A woman who, not long ago, fought me, challenged me to be the man I was. But that man was deceptive, destructive, and fucking dangerous to the people he loved. And when he lost them, he gave himself permission to run rampant. Now that I’ve been derailed again by the possibility of a different life, I’m being forced to confront his demons.
I downshift, the Camaro needle slanting past the hundred mark as I try to escape the ache, the burn of my mistakes. The image of Sean, Dom, and Tyler’s firelit faces the night I told them about Roman—about the truth of what happened to our parents—and about my plans to bring him down. As their trusting faces come more into focus, I know no amount of speed will ever erase that memory.
After another shift, I pull up to see Tobias washing Dom’s Camaro in my driveway. Dazed by the sight of him shirtless, taut, ripped, he raises his head when he hears me approach and gives me the slight lift of his thick lips from where he squats, scrubbing mud off the side of the car. From the looks of it, he’s put all the horses under the hood to work. But the idea of his joyride takes a back seat to any other thought when he stands covered in the afternoon sun. His skin is glistening, beckoning, his jeans riding dangerously low on his hips, showcasing his clear-cut V, just before it disappears into his dark-washed jeans. Exiting the car, I walk over to where he works, intent on his task.
“Hey,” he greets me, his voice chalky as though he’s been shouting for most of the day.
“Hey back,” I reply, looking at the car. “I see you went for a ride.”
“Yeah, it’s been a while since I let loose.”
Something’s wrong. It’s so clear to see in the light creases next to his eyes, the weight on his shoulders.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” he tosses his sponge in a bucket before pressing a kiss to my temple. Retrieving the hose from the ground, he pauses his spray and shakes his head in afterthought. “I mean, no, not really okay, not today. But can we table this particular talk for later?”