Chapter 32 - Wolfe

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I can't stop pacing. I've been at it for the past three hours now but I refuse to give it a rest. If I sit in place I'll think of all the ways I'm responsible for Coach and then I might just lose my shit.

He saved me. I'd just barely registered Sims firing his gun at me before I felt a burst of pain on my chest. I assumed I'd been shot with I hit the floor but then pain subsided within a couple of seconds and I knew there was no way that was the pain of a bullet wound. That's when I looked up and realized Coach was on the floor with me. I was frozen in fear at the sight of blood pooling across his shirt as he struggled to catch his breath. It took another second to realize the pain I experienced was when Coach slammed me out of the way and took the bullet for me. I looked toward Sims with every intention of strangling him with my bare hands but Dante was on top of him and holding him in place while he held a knife to his throat and slit it open.

"What the hell?" I'd asked. I sat up and held my hands tightly against Coach's wound in an effort to stop the blood and glared at Dante. "You should have let me kill that asshole!"

"No," Dante got to his feet, breathing hard. "You don't want to be a killer, kid. I gave you my word I'd avenge your parents and I meant that. This fucker was under my nose the whole time and I didn't even know it. He was the reason your parents died and you suffered. I slit his throat the way Kane slit yours. I did it for you, kid. I'm done."

I had nothing to say to that. How could I? All I did was shake my head and look down at Coach again who was unconscious. Asher was on the phone and calling for an ambulance. As soon as he finished he ran over and sank to his knees, putting his hands on top of my blood-covered ones almost desperately.

"Damn it, Coach." He mumbled, voice shaking. "Damn it all to hell."

"The bleeding is too intense," Dante walked over to us and stripped his shirt off, wrapping it around Coach's chest and tying it into a knot. He lifted Coach up to lean against his shoulder and began dragging him out of the house. "Come on. We'll drive him to the hospital. It'll be faster."

"This place looks like a slaughter house," Asher barked incredulously.

"I'll handle it," Dante replied with a calmness neither Asher or I possessed in that moment. He looked around at all the South Bloods members who were urging people to get off the street. "Wayne!"

A tall beefy guy ran over to us. "Boss?"

"Take him to the hospital now. These two will go with you. I have to rearrange the crime scene and tip the police off."

"Got it," Wayne took Coach with a grunt and held him up in a standing position, taking him to one of the cars.

"Go," Dante ordered Asher and I when we didn't move. "I've done this part a million times. I'll make it look like Kane and Sergio...Sims...killed each other because of past dispute. Besides, everyone in the neighbourhood saw Sims pull out his gun first so that should be enough to testify."

Asher nodded. That was good enough for him. He ran to Wayne and helped him get Coach in the backseat. He called out to me but I waved at him to get going. I'd catch a ride with one of the other guys in just a minute. Before I left I had a couple of things to clear up.

"What did you mean when you said you were done?"

"I just killed my right hand man," Dante looked away. His face was hard as stone. "I put my trust in him and he was playing me the whole time. Your coach over there was right — I was blinded by my ego. I'm done with South Bloods."

"Where will you go?"

"Don't even fucking know," He muttered. "I considered Sergio a friend. Killing him...it was the first time in my life I felt guilt for taking a life. I can't shake it and I don't want anything to do with this life anymore. Get out of here, kid. You're better than these streets."

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