Forever Golden: Dark High School Bully Romance (Kings of Cypress Prep Book 3), Rachel Jonas [reading books for 6 year olds .TXT] 📗

turn to leave with my heart set on ending this shit, but the sound of a gun cocking behind me stops me in my tracks.

“I can’t let you do this,” he threatens. “I’ve worked too hard to build an empire, a legacy, and I can’t just let you take all that away.”

Other than my chest moving as I breathe, I stay completely still. He sounds unhinged and I don’t doubt for one second that he’ll pull that trigger.

“If you’d just… minded your damn business, none of this would’ve happened,” he insists.

I have a response, but it isn’t wise to speak right now.

It’s true what they say, though. As you stare death in the face, your whole life flashes before your eyes. But what they don’t tell you is that your future does, too.

I picture it, a life spent with the only girl I’ve ever loved—her on our wedding day, carrying her over the threshold of our first home together, holding her on the couch as three little ones who look just like us rush in and end the quiet moment with laughter. I see it all with her. I want it all with her. But as Vin’s steps carry him closer and I spot a reflection of the gun he aims at my head, I’m not so sure I’ll ever get there.

My eyes fall closed and I’m trying to make peace with this, because I don’t see any way out of it, but damn if the idea of life ending right here, right now, doesn’t sting like hell. Leaving Southside behind, my brothers, my mom…

“I’m sorry,” he says, but remorse is the one thing I don’t hear in his voice.

Rage, on the other hand, I hear that loud and clear.

I’ve never been one to pray, but this seems like a good time to start. So, that’s what I do—pray for a miracle, pray for Vin to have a change of heart.

Something.

Anything.

“Might not wanna do that, Daddy Warbucks.”

My eyes dart toward the sound of a voice, but with cool steel pressed to my head, I’m still hesitant to feel relieved. Standing in the doorway with the barrel of a gun aimed straight at Vin, is Ricky—hidden beneath a dark ski mask and hood to hide his identity. He was also smart enough to disguise his voice a little, for the sake of fully protecting his identity.

“What the fuck took you so long?” I ask.

His eyes stay trained on Vin. “Guess you could say I like to make an entrance,” he teases. “You tell him yet?”

I’m still a bit traumatized by the idea of a bullet passing through my skull, so I shake my head instead of speaking.

“Tell me what?” Vin asks through gritted teeth.

“Well, allow me,” Ricky begins. “You’re not the only one with connections. A friend of ours offered us her platform so we could livestream your recording debut. Wave to the camera. There’s one attached to the front of your son’s hoodie and one on the back pocket of his jeans. They’re tiny motherfuckers, so I can understand how you missed it. But one thing’s for damn sure… no one missed a single thing you did or said here tonight. All of Cypress Pointe got to meet the real Vin Golden for the first time ever, so take a bow, bitch,” he adds with a laugh.

“Who the fuck are you?” Vin roars. “Tell me your fucking name!”

Still laughing, Ricky shrugs. “All you need to know is I’m the man with a gun pointed at your head and very few reasons not to pull this damn trigger.”

Vin’s speechless, but I hear his heavy breaths loud and clear.

“Figured you’d settle down,” Ricky adds. “But I had a thought. Tonight would be the perfect time for you to tell everyone your big plans, Vin! The city deserves to know who their next mayor could be, right?”

Ricky’s enjoying this shit a little too much.

“Why are you doing this?” Vin adds quietly, like he’s the fucking victim here.

“Pretty sure people are more interested in why you’re holding a gun to your son’s head,” Ricky points out.

In the reflection, I see Vin lowering his weapon, wiping away some of the blood that’s drained down his chin.

“Drop it and kick it over here,” Ricky demands.

Vin eyes him for a moment, and likely considers that there’s a camera pointed on him when he cooperates the next second. Ricky nods and I know it’s finally safe to move.

I stand there, watching as Vin slowly backs toward his desk, eventually cowering on the other side of it.

“This is, uh… this isn’t at all what it seems,” he insists. “We’ve all had family squabbles that have gotten out of hand. This is nothing more than that.”

I’ve got absolutely nothing to say as I stare at him, this man who’s been nothing short of a terrorist.

In this town.

Within our family.

My entire life, I’ve never seen Vin look defeated, but there’s no other way to describe the expression on his face now. He drops down into his seat and doesn’t even glance this way.

Five silhouettes moving through the darkness just outside the office catch my eye, and as planned, I kill both body cams right before Detective Roby and the four officers he’s brought with him step in. I’d never seen him face-to-face, and only had one conversation with him that took place this afternoon. However, Ricky and I knew we’d likely need some bailing out after going live on Pandora’s account, and it’s clear we made the right move asking him to come.

Roby walks closer and I get a better look at him. He’s middle-aged, brown-skinned, with bits of gray at his temples and in his beard. There’s a look set in his eyes that says he’s seen more than most, understands more about this city than most.

He passes a reassuring look toward me first, and then to Ricky. “I’ll take things from here.”

After that, he does something unexpected when he shoots Ricky an inconspicuous look, nodding as he mouths the