Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“I’m only doing this because you’re family, but I swear to God, Rocco, if someone shows up here and tries to kill us but fails, I will kill you.”
I stared at her, unsure of what to say. Was she going to let me borrow a computer? What was happening?
“Fine.” She looked at Enrique again. “But no more.”
“No more, babe.” He kissed her and walked away.
Emma went into the kitchen and poured two glasses of red wine, and walked back over to Lenora as I stood there wondering what the fuck had just happened. I didn’t have to wait long. Enrique showed up with a black laptop that looked like it weighed ten pounds. He set it down on the counter, facing the television, so we had a clear view of Lenora and Emma, and pulled up a barstool. I did the same and sat beside him.
“This computer is almost impossible to track,” he explained as he turned it on. “Emma thinks I’m going to get killed if I keep using it.”
“Would you?”
He shrugged. “I doubt it. My dad is pretty high up in the FBI chain.”
I said nothing as the computer finally showed a blue page, and he typed in his login code. He opened a program and plugged in the USB drive. I was on edge as we waited. I’d looked at the ledger several times, and Lenora was right. He’d written it in some kind of code. Maybe Dom would be able to decipher it. Enrique clicked some things. Typed some things, clicked the enter button loudly, and sat back. I watched as green numbers and letters took over the screen.
“There. Now, the USB drive is untraceable no matter where you plug it in.”
“How do we look at what’s on it?” I asked. He clicked, opened a folder with more folders, and stood up. I looked at him.
“I’m not looking at what’s on that thing.” He put his hands up, backed away, and headed to the fridge.
“Pussy,” I muttered under my breath.
He laughed. “Damn right. I’ve heard enough horror stories to fuck with that man.”
I grunted in response and looked at the folders. The names were dates ranging from 1990 to now. I clicked 1990. More folders opened up. This was like a goddamn Matryoshka doll that never seemed to end. I clicked the excel sheet. On the left were what I assumed were initials; on the right, money — owed or paid, I wasn’t sure. I clicked out and checked last year’s folder. It also had an excel sheet. I clicked on the folder beside it, which was filled with pictures. I clicked one. Lenora smiling at a girl in school. Lenora threw her hands up in frustration. Lenora walking out of a building. They were all taken on different days. I knew he was stalking the shit out of her, but damn. I exited that one and went to another. This one was filled with pictures of Sofia. He even had one of Sofia in a hospital room, sitting next to who I assumed was her mother. Jesus. I clicked the next one. Dominic. My heart stopped beating. There weren’t many pictures of him, but still. He even had one of Dom holding Rosie’s hand while they walked down a sidewalk. There was Gabe, too. Jesus Christ. This was a lot. I went back to the ’90s folders and clicked a random one.
Carmela De Luca. My heart slowed as I hovered over the cursor on Dominic’s mother's name. I couldn’t click it. I clicked back and looked at all of the names. He was watching every single person he knew. My eyes stopped on Beatrice Marchetti. I stopped breathing. Next to hers was one with my dad’s name. Next to his was one that said, “Marchetti kids.” I clicked on my mom’s. I couldn’t click it. I wish I hadn’t opened the file when I saw her face. My chest squeezed as I went through pictures of her. She was such a happy person. Such a kind person. I swallowed the lump in my throat and got out of the folder. I clicked the excel sheet in this one. I sat back and read the amounts, then the initials. Halfway through the sheet, I froze.
R.B.
A.M.
H.G.
B.M.
Next to each of their names was $10,000. I stared at that number, feeling a tingle start in my fingertips. It always started that way. Soon, I’d be consumed with rage — ten grand. I would have said it was a coincidence if I believed in those, but too many signs pointed at what I knew had to be true. I snatched the drive out and shut the computer. The three of them looked at me, all wearing the same confused look on their faces. I felt like a live wire ready to explode at any minute. I shoved the drive in my pocket and walked out the back door. I needed air. Holy fuck. I needed air. I made it to the sand before my legs gave out, and I sank to my knees.