Page 7 of Vega

He screamed.

I took the gun from him and cracked it across his mouth. Blood sprayed across the pavement.

“Reach again, and I’ll break every finger you got before I kill you.”

Tremaine dropped to one knee, spitting blood. “Please, Vega.”

“Don’t beg. It’s embarrassing.”

“I can pay you.”

“I have money.”

“I can leave Chicago tonight.”

“You should’ve left before you killed him.”

“I made a mistake.”

“No.” I stepped closer, looking down at him. “A mistake is turning down the wrong block. You planned a murder and performed at the funeral. That ain’t a mistake.”

His breathing came out ragged and wet.

I crouched in front of him. “You know what pisses me off?”

Tears gathered in his eyes.

“You niggas always want mercy after you make everybody else suffer without it.”

He shook his head. “I swear I’ll make it right.”

I grabbed him by the collar and dragged him deeper into the alley, past the dumpsters, beyond the reach of the flickering light. He kicked, clawed, and swung wildly.

I let him fight for about ten seconds. Then I drove my fist into his ribs once. ‘Then twice, and the third hit cracked something.

Tremaine made a sound that barely sounded human and collapsed against the brick wall. He tried to crawl away, and I let him get a few feet away. Then I caught him by the back of his shirt and yanked him onto his back. His head hit the pavement, and for one second, he stared up at me like he finally understood nothing could save him.

“Look at me.”

He didn’t, so I pressed my shoe against his throat until his eyes snapped to mine.

“Look at me.”

His chest heaved.

“You made Jalen look at you, didn’t you?”

His bottom lip quivered.

“That’s why I know you’re a coward. You wanted him to see your face when you betrayed him, but now you can’t even look at mine.”

“I’m sorry,” he cried.

“No, you’re not. You’re dying. That’s different.”

I pulled my blade from my pocket. The metal caught the weak light for half a second.

Tremaine’s body went still. “Vega…”