Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“Be quiet or I’m going to kill you,” I snarl and it’s like she just realizes I’m six feet away. She hurls herself off the bed, but at least she’s only sobbing now and not making that god-awful screeching.
More silence. No shooting. I’m fucked in the eye socket. My left arm’s a bloody wreck and I have no clue where Vito’s at. He could be waiting for me to make a break for it, or he could be long gone, and I can’t stick around here forever to find out. Someone heard the shooting and they definitely heard the fucking screaming.
I retreat into the bathroom. The sinks are both messy. I grab a towel, wrap it up into a loose ball, and chuck it into the bedroom. I wait a beat then dive out after it, hit the bed, roll hard, and land on the far side with my gun up pointing at the doorway.
Nothing. No movement.
Except for the woman. She’s curled up on the floor, sobbing into her hands. I shove the gun against her head and lean in close. “Listen to me. You want to survive this? Who do you live with?”
“Vito,” she says, hiccupping. “Just Vito. Nobody else.”
“Why were you alone in the bed? Why was there a speaker playing snoring?”
“Trap,” she says, shaking so hard my gun rattles against her head. “He made me. Said it’d be fine, he’d finish you off and then it would all be over. Said once Paulie went down, it was him next.”
Fucking hell. I knew Paulie would spook them, but I had no clue Vito was this paranoid.
“I need you to get up. I need you to walk ahead of me out into the hall. Can you do that?”
“Please,” she says, shaking her head. She’s got dark brown eyes and I feel bad for her.
“Your boyfriend’s a fucking asshole.” I drag her to her feet. She’s barely over five-foot and weighs nothing. It’s easy to get her going. She makes a terrible human shield but I’m hoping Vito will hesitate if he’s still waiting. The guy was always sentimental.
“Please don’t kill me,” she says, and I can’t tell if she’s talking to me. I steer her into the hall, the gun held out in front of us, aiming into the darkness. My body’s on high alert, adrenaline going haywire.
“Keep moving.” I shove her to the steps. Nobody shoots. She goes first and I watch our back. Vito never appears. “Don’t stop until you get to the kitchen.”
“Please,” she keeps saying, over and over, and waving her arms in the air like she’s trying to ward off danger.
Nothing happens. Dead silence. Then the roar of an engine from the driveway and the lady sprints away from me, screaming like a maniac for the back door.
I let her go and peer through the windows. Vito’s car kicks into gear, spins out, flies away from the driveway in reverse, barely misses a tree, hits the street, bounces, flips to drive, and peels out. He’s gone in a spin of rubber smoke.
Damn.
I limp out the front door. There’s a nosy fucking neighbor nearby, some poofy-white-haired woman with a droopy face, probably calling the cops. I cradle my wrecked arm, get into my truck, and start driving.
That went like shit.
Chapter 16
Claudia
I’m dead tired and my feet hurt and my back feels like mashed potatoes. Nights like this, my favorite thing is to clock out, go home, and collapse onto the couch, not to move again until the sun wakes me up. But first, I need to use the lady’s room, because Tommy’s been a prick all night and keeps on giving me shit every time I step away from dancing in the cage.
No Angelo this evening. I kept expecting him, especially after he disappeared on me last night, but the whole shift crawled past and he never materialized.
It’s perverse, and pathetic, and probably dumb, but I wish he were here. I want to press my lips to his and drink him in again. Let Tommy watch on his cameras; I don’t even care anymore. I’ve been so deep in this hell for the past eight months watching my beloved sister succumb to her addiction, watching my beautiful Serena turn into a bones-and-rags version of her former perfect self all for drugs and some douchebag gangster fuckwad, and I deserve something good for myself.
Not that I think Angelo’s good. No, he’s for sure using me and not even trying to be coy about it. But at least he’s hot and he kisses like an angel.
I linger in the bathroom. I’m so tired I don’t feel like getting up. I finish, flush, and I’m about to leave the stall when the door opens, and I feel like a total creep as my sister’s voice floats through the echoey space. “…to love this stuff, I swear. Tommy always spoils me.”