by Briann Danae
The Story Of DeLano Trevino
BriAnn Danae
Copyright © 2018 by BriAnn Danae
Cover art by Beyond The Book Designs
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written consent of the publisher, except brief quotations in review form.
This is a work of fiction. Any characters, places, objects, references or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locals are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents are entirely coincidental and are solely of the Author’s imagination.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Message From BriAnn
Other Books By Me
Upcoming Releases
To my readers, this one is for you. The wait has been long enough.
STOP!
In order to enjoy this book in its entirety, you have MUST read
Juvie & Solai: A Hood Love Story 1-4
and
A Senful Holiday
Please DO NOT continue reading if you have not yet read above work.
Chapter 1
Not bothering to knock, declaring the home as his as well, a younger Lano ran through the crib struggling to catch his breath as he bent the corner to head toward the basement steps. Tripping over a toy he had told Saon’s youngest sister, Sasha, to pick up numerous times, he cursed before breaking his fall into the wall.
“Fuck,” he hissed, picking himself up and jogging down the steps.
Darkness met him immediately, but he had been down there enough times to maneuver through any condition. Trained to move, shoot, and kill through any environment he was placed in.
“Samia!” he belted out, in search of Saon’s nineteen-year-old sister.
He was met with quiet sobs, instead of the cheery voice he was used to. The first sob made his heart stop. The second made his feet follow suit. Frozen in place, he listened on as Samia cried her heart out. The loud wails were unfathomable, as they echoed off the cement walls.
“He’s gone, DeLano. Fucking dead!”
Samia had hopped up from the stool she was sitting on and charged toward him. She too was accustomed to the dark, but could feel his energy in the room. No light present could help deter where he was standing. She just knew. Thwarted, she threw punch after punch into his frame, wanting some type of relief to come from the task. After the sixth, nothing happened. By the seventh, her shoulders had slumped, and by the weakened eighth, Lano had pulled her so close to his chest, they could become one.
“Don’t say that shit, Samia. Tell me you lying,” he whispered harshly into her ear.
Samia didn’t give him a verbal reply. Instead, her body shook harder, causing Lano to squeeze his eyes shut tightly, along with the hold he had on her. He needed her to hold him up as well.
“What happened? Tell me what the fuck happened?” he hissed in a demanding, stern tone.
“You weren’t here.”
The words were a stab in both their backs, as they escaped her lips. She didn’t want to say them, but it was the truth; something they never held back from one another. Balling his fists up, Lano released the hold he had on her and took a step back. Though he knew her words held some truth, that wasn’t what he was trying to hear. He wanted details. Details of how something this fucking reckless had happened. He had only been gone for two days.
“Tell me.” His tone let Samia know she had better start talking and talking right then.
“They shot Jus, and he went to retaliate. No backup, no nothing. He just went over there and ended up getting killed. If you hadn’t been-”
“Don’t say that shit again!” Lano yelled, slamming his right fist on the countertop they were standing by. His outburst made her flinch. Lano never raised his voice, but Samia didn’t back down.
“It’s the truth! You fucking know it, DeLano! He would have never gone over there had you been here to talk him out of it.” Samia was crying now, and Lano couldn’t stand the sound of it. He wasn’t going to comfort her though. Retaliation was all that was on his mind.
Lowering his chin to his chest, Lano hated the words Samia had spoken. His best friend, his brother, his protector, his partner in crime had been killed, and she was blaming him. Blaming him for something he had no control over. This shit was making his head hurt.
“Where everybody at?” he asked in a low tone, ready to make moves.
“Where you think?” Samia’s tone was as flat as his was, but held emotion.
Her tears had subsided, but she knew as soon as she was alone, they’d begin again. Unlike Lano, who was ready to wreak havoc on the city of Compton; Samia still hadn’t come to terms with the untimely news of her brother’s death.
“Look,” Lano started, grabbing her by the hand. The last thing he needed was for her to be upset with him. They were a team and needed one another more than ever right now.
“I’ma head out. You gon’ be good here?”
Samia nodded her head. She didn’t want to be left alone necessarily, but she knew he had to go handle business. “I’ll be fine. Just promise to come back to me.”
Leaning down, Lano wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into him. Kissing her lips, Samia held onto his frame with all the strength she had left in her body. Breaking their embrace, Lano backed away, hating the look in her eyes. He couldn’t promise her that he’d be back. Not all promises were meant to be kept, so he didn’t utter a reply before heading back up the steps and jogging out the house.
“God, please bring him back to me. I need him,” Samia mumbled sadly, not knowing that would be her last day laying eyes on her lover until five years later.
The memory of the day Lano lost his best friend had been looping through his mind for the last month. Since his return back to California, that was all he could seem to think about it. That, and retaliation. On Christmas Day, while friends and family of Saon gathered at the gravesite to pay their respects and celebrate his birthday, members of a rival gang had come through spraying bullets into the crowd.
Not only was the act alone disrespectful as hell, but they’d also injured a handful of people, killed two, and shot Lano. It was a gunshot wound to the arm instead of the head like he would have delivered, but still. The fact remained that niggas wanted a war, clearly. Thankfully, the bulletproof vest he put on that morning saved his life. Regardless of where he had been shot, niggas were about to pay up, and the only way Lano accepted payment was in blood. It’d normally be after the check cleared, but for this occasion, he wasn’t receiving any monetary gain.
“You sure you don’t want a drink?” Stefon, Saon and Samia’s dad, questioned from the bar.
“I’m straight,” Lano replied as he sat relaxed in a chair.
Stefon had groomed Lano to be the killer he was today. The trained one anyway. When he was first approached about joining their gang, Lano had already had a few bodies on him. He wasn’t in the business of following any rules given by any man except himself. When Stefon peeped how the young thirteen-year-old carried himself, he knew then Lano would be a force to be reckoned with. His presence in any room, even at a young age, gave people chills and commanded their attention.
Lano’s dad, DeNelo, wasn’t in the streets. Not as heavily as Stefon was back then. He had his fun, made his money, and got the fuck out. Befo
re anything, DeNelo was a family man and a husband. When his wife, Lina, got pregnant with Lano, he knew right then that there was nothing left in the streets for him accept death or jail. Making it out alive was his main priority, and he had.
Comfortably in a pair of black Milano joggers, and a white signature tee to match, Lano scratched his head as Stefon took a seat across from him. This meeting was impromptu, but necessary. The niggas who had been bold, yet still pussy enough to send shots his way had been ducked off in hiding, and Lano didn’t like that. The man was extremely patient, but his patience was running thin at this point.
He’d sat on contracts to kill for over a month, but this wasn’t a situation he wanted to let drag on. Lano wanted niggas to feel the heat like it was the middle of the fucking summer. He needed niggas to bleed… to death. Revenge plagued his mind so heavily, the mere thought of seeing his enemies plead for their lives, if he tortured them, damn near hardened his dick. His seven-figure bank account and six-figures stashed in a safe are what being a contract killer awarded him. The fruits of his hard labor had definitely paid off.
Stefon took a sip from his glass and exhaled. “I got some good news.”
Lano’s brow lifted. He’d speak when he felt necessary.
“One of the niggas who was in the car that day, been hiding out about an hour and some change away from here,” Stefon said.
“No location?”
“Yeah. He visits one spot throughout the week. A little strip joint.”
Lano nodded. “A’ight. I’ma need whatever info, and then I’ll go from there.”
“I’m having Samia reel him in.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, a knock at the office door resounded through the room. Samia’s Louboutin heels clicked rhythmically as she made her way across the hardwood floor and took a seat next to Lano. She’d purposely arrived at her father’s home late, just so she could make a grand appearance. For two weeks straight since Lano’s arrival, she’d been trying to get in contact with him, but her calls went unanswered and texts messages ignored. Now, she was in his presence and planned to soak as much of him up as she could.
Lano let his eyes do a quick sweep over her attire. Her distressed denim jeans, red leather jacket, lace top, and big wand curled hair would seem like a bit much for a small meeting with her dad, but not to Samia. She was always dressed her best and vowed to never be caught lacking. When she glanced Lano’s way and shot him a smirk as he stared at her, she expected him to at least speak, but he didn’t. Not even giving her a head nod, Lano returned his focus back on Stefon.
“Nice of you to join us. You’re late,” Stefon said.
“By five minutes. Hello to you too, Daddy. Lano,” she mumbled, now with an attitude apparent in her soft voice.
“Samia. Look, Stef. I appreciate you trying to bring her in on this, but I’m good. I got this covered,” Lano replied.
Stefon’s brow lifted before he placed his glass of Cognac to his lips. “Do you? A little reinforcement never hurt anyone. Plus, she deserves to handle this shit just as much as you. Don’t you think?”
His question wasn’t really one he was looking for an answer to. Of course, Samia deserved to clap back at the niggas for killing her brother, but why did it take for Lano to make a move on it first for her to do so? That was what was frustrating him. She and their entire family had five fucking years to seek revenge. Exhaling loudly, Lano reminded himself that he was the enforcer here. He always had been.
“I get it, she wants in, but at what cost?”
“I am sitting here. You don’t think lives have been taken since then?” Samia questioned, already knowing what Lano was thinking.
“Lives that don’t fucking matter. How many of the niggas who got at Saon and Jus are still living?”
His question made Samia swallow hard. “I don’t know.”
“And, why do I need reinforcement, again?” Lano said, directing his question to Stefon. He wasn’t trying to be disrespectful in any way but had they been on top of shit from the jump; they wouldn’t even be having this meeting.
“You up and left right when shit got hot, so don’t sit here like you’ve been applying pressure to these niggas’ necks when you haven’t. You left, so remember that the next time you want to blame someone for these pussies still breathing. Blame yourself,” Samia huffed out.
Standing to her feet, she marched over to the wet bar and poured a shot of Patron. Tossing it back, she didn’t even flinch as the Tequila warmed her insides. Lano had pissed her off that quickly. With ease, he had gotten under her skin, and she hated it. Being mad at him wasn’t the emotion she wanted to feel. Not right now. She missed him, and having him back in their hometown was bringing her a sense of comfort that had been missing from her life.
Her words bothered Lano, but he’d never let it show. He had the ultimate poker face. Showing any signs of emotion, especially at this stage in the game, was asking to be knocked off his square. He couldn’t afford that. Coolly, he licked his lips and cleared his throat.
“Anything else?” he asked Stefon.
“No. That’s it. I’ll have that info to you within the next hour. Faith is cooking dinner if you want to stay.”
Lano had mad love for Faith, Stef’s wife, but he wasn’t sticking around. Standing to his feet, he brushed out the wrinkles in his shirt.
“Nah. I’ma gon’ head and slide. Tell her I said what’s up though.”
Stefon nodded, stood to his feet, and stuck his hand out. The duo slapped hands as Samia made her way back to her seat.
“A’ight. ‘Preciate you coming through.”
Without so much as a glance in Samia’s direction, Lano walked out of the office, down the long hall and staircase and to the front door. Just as he went to open it, Faith was walking inside with groceries.
“Oh, hey. I didn’t know you were stopping by,” she said cheerfully.
Lano shot her his handsome smile. “How you doin’ ma? Let me grab them bags for you.”
Lina had raised a straight gentle thug. Chivalry wasn’t dead in his eyes, and never would be. As respectful as he was to women, Lano was just as ruthless if a man or woman decided to get reckless with him.
“Thank you. I’m fine. Just came from ripping and running. How are you? Heard you been in town for a little while,” Faith said, placing the one bag she carried on the counter while Lano set the others down.
“I ain’t been here for long. I’m good.”
Faith gave him the side eye. “Mhm. That doesn’t sound too convincing to me.”
Lano chuckled. “You’d know if I wasn’t. It was good seeing you. I’ma have to slide through on another day when you cook,” he said kissing her cheek and hugging her.
“You know you’re always welcomed.”
“No, he’s not,” Samia sassed, stepping into the kitchen.
Lano felt her presence before she made herself known. He hated for a mothafucka to sneak up on him, and since a youngster, he had mastered the art of feeling anyone’s energy when they were in close proximity. The instinct had come in handy with his blossoming profession.
“Don’t start, Samia. You look cute. Where are you coming from?” Faith asked as Samia copped a squat on one of the stools at the island.
“Talking to Daddy. Lano, you sure you don’t want to stay?”
“Nah. My woman and I have dinner reservations.”
The smirk that was dancing in the corners of Samia’s mouth flattened. She wasn’t expecting him to say that. Though it wasn’t the truth, it wasn’t completely a lie. Lano had an insatiable craving for Anika and was ready to get to the crib and satisfy his hunger. With all the talks of eating in the air, he had one thing on the menu. A few actually.
Faith peeped her daughter's icy glare and shook her head. “Well, I don’t want to hold you up longer than I have. Tell her I said hi.”
“Sure thing. Y’all have a good night.”
Samia sat fuming as he walked out of the kitchen. Her f
irst mind told her to stay her ass in her seat, but she didn’t follow it. Hopping down, she marched with newfound confidence in her stride in his direction. Even the glimpse of him from the back caused her breath to hitch. His walk held weight… heavily. In relation to his street cred, his pockets, and large anaconda dick; Lano strolled with a kingly, lion-hearted swag that effortlessly weakened the knees of women. Samia being one of them.
“DeLano,” she called out.
He stopped in midstride and turned to face her. He didn’t utter a word as he gave her a pensive stare down. Her attitude and blatant disrespect toward him and his relationship weren’t going to fly. Ever.
“Are you seriously going to ignore me? We have to work together.”
“You have to work with me.”
His tone had her ready to smack him, but they’d get nowhere with that. Annoyed, she took a deep breath. “So, that gives you the right to ignore me?”
“What I owe you?”
Her brows dipped lowly. “What?”
Lano stepped closer, looking down at her intensely. Caught off guard, Samia moved away, her jaw tightening at his next words.
“I’m saying. I don’t owe you anything. If I want to ignore you the entire time I’m here, I will. Stop calling my mothafuckin’ phone and blowing my line down, a’ight? I got mad love for your family, and out of respect for my boy, I’ma only tell you this one time. A’ight?”
This nigga wants me to answer him?
Instead of replying, Samia chuckled. “You have some fucking nerves.”
“Yeah,” he shrugged. “I do. And you been getting on them mothafuckas since I landed. You heard what I said. This my last time addressing you about this.”