He nods quickly—too quickly—and I’m unsure if he heeds my warning.
“So, T played this?” he asks, positioning his men, his question because of his affection and bond with Ezekiel.
“Yes, and he wasvery, verygood.”
“Challenge accepted,” he draws out. “Did he ever beatyou?”
“Never,” I relay with a grin, pushing up my sleeves so as not to knock any of my soldiers over. It’s when Tyler stills that I look up to see his gaze locked on my forearm. I follow his focus to see the angry red teeth marks and the surrounding swollen skin before quickly pulling my sleeves back down.
“Ezekiel was a very skilled,” I continue, “very wise opponent,” I manage without shake before unscrewing the cap of my bottle.
“Well, this”—his tone lifts to match mine—“right here ismy tasktomaster,” he informs me with no shortage of ambition. One I don’t dismiss easily this time.
Instead, I nod in silent confirmation, fully aware of Ezekiel’s plans.
Plans my oldest nephew is now putting into motion with Ormand’s help—the first contact I gave him when he landed in France. My intention for making that connection is to help aid Ezekiel in his quest to do what I didn’t—avenge Celine and Beau.
Another of my failures that Ezekiel took upon himself to rectify. More weight that lays heavily on my soul, but weight I’m thankful for.
“Delphine?” Tyler drawls. “Where did you go?”
“Shh,” I whisper, “know your enemy.”
I focus on my new and willing opponent as he does the same. An opponent that, in truth, is an ally, eager to take on a part of Ezekiel and Dominic’s quest. Tyler seems to catch on as he stares right back at me, raising his chin, unflinching.
It’s in Tyler’s unwavering gaze that I allow myself to think mentoring him could be another chance to do my part—to honor Celine. A chance for vengeance that the haze denied me. A chance that Dominic continues to refuse me. Maybe with true effort, Tyler will grant me the ability to right some of my wrongs. A start that I’ve attempted for years while fighting through the haze and numbing with drink.
To try.
“Let’s begin.”
Chapter Fourteen
TYLER
STALKING DOWN THEmostly vacant hall to meet Dom—who summoned me by text—I catch the heated whispers as they escalate, pinpointing exactly who’s exchanging them as I round the corner.
“Fucking snitch,” Sean spits venomously just before throwing his mid-evil right hook. In an instant, I’m at Dom’s side as Sean takes one of his own defensive linemen to the floor. Their beef having started in middle school over some stupid bullshit. This means that given any reason or chance Blake Spellman gives Sean to keep the feud going, Sean takes it.
Sean and Blake’s brawl starts to escalate, their sneakers squeaking loudly while their collective grunts intensify. The sound of their scuffle muting Mrs. Hill’s English lit lecture just outside her classroom door.
It’s when a few lingering students take notice and start to walk in our direction to watch the spectacle that Dom gives Sean the heads-up.
“Wrap it up, or the only balls you’ll be playing with Friday are your own,” Dom snarks, arms crossed, his menacing grin in place as we watch Sean dominate the fight, throwing punch after punch, already the victor.
“What’s this one about?” I ask, wincing at the shot Sean just took to his ribs, knowing it’s going to sting like a bitch later.
In lieu of an answer, Dom steps forward or rather stomps forward, his step subtle but purposeful as he slowly inches the rest of himself toward his idle boot. The sight of it has me perking as I gauge the satisfied look in Dom’s eyes.
Something’s up.
“You’re good, bro. I think he got the message,” Dom says, as I roll my eyes, knowing better, before pulling Sean off Blake. Spellman jumps from the ancient, overly polished white tile, glancing around to see who witnessed his ass whooping. Pride battered, Blake wipes his mouth, spitting venom at Sean through blood-laced teeth.
“The fuck, Roberts? The fuck are you talking about, snitch?”
“Rat me out to Coach again, I fucking dare you,” Sean barks in warning before Mrs. Hill’s door opens, and the small group of students that gathered to watch the fight start to scatter. A second later, she nails Dom with a ready glare.
“Do we have a problem here, Mr. King?” She shifts her focus to me. “Mr. Jennings? Mr. Roberts, do the three of you not have somewhere to be?”