Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Again, Jerry flinches, as though I’m reaching into his mind and picking at his rawest parts. He’s doing a terrible job of hiding his true feelings, which is the mark of a true amateur in their criminal business.
He raises his gun and I move a little to the left when Zoey lets out a gasp, making sure to keep my body in front of hers. I’ll take as many bullets as I can to stop them from hitting her, but I think I’m right.
I think they’ve been given instructions not to make any noise.
“Move,” Jerry whines.
“An expensive apartment building like this, all these rich folks… if you start shooting and the police learn the Irish mob was involved, well, that wouldn’t reflect very well on your employer, would it?”
“Move,” Jerry whimpers. “Before I make you move.”
“Do you know who this man is?” I growl, addressing the mobsters. “He exposed himself to a sixteen year old girl. He’s been stalking her ever since. I don’t know what he’s paying you, but is that really enough to support a sick pervert like him?”
“I said move,” Jerry yells, his voice trembling.
“No,” I growl, staring hard into his eyes, letting him see I’m not afraid of him.
Men like Jerry – sad worms like him – thrive on fear, and I can tell it’s throwing him off when I don’t show any.
“Then you’re giving me no choice.” He bites down as he moves the gun from my chest to my head. “I’m going to have to blow your goddamn head off.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Zoey
Every inch of me prickles with fear as Jerry aims the gun at Zack. I always knew that Jerry was twisted and broken and just plain wrong, but I never knew his deranged obsession would lead him this far, would make him into something truly evil.
Who am I kidding?
He was always evil, and now the love of my life might have to pay the price.
“Do it then,” Zack snarls. “Go on, tough guy. Put a bullet in my head.”
I let out a whimper and shake my head. “Zack, please don’t. Jerry… I’ll go with you if that’s what it takes to keep Zack safe.”
“No, you won’t,” Zack snarls flatly, not turning his head to face me.
Every part of him is aimed at Jerry and the men, his fingers twitching as though getting ready for violence.
But what can he do against six armed men?
“You heard her,” Jerry snaps, his voice somehow more shrill and cutting than the continuous blaring of the alarm. “Time to step aside.”
“No,” Zack snarls. “If you want her, you’re going to have to take her.”
My belly churns as cruel vignettes of Zack lying in a puddle of blood spread across my mind, the waking nightmare a deep shade of crimson, telling me that Jerry is telling the truth. He’ll really shoot my man.
But the gunshot doesn’t come.
“I knew it,” Zack says. “You’re not allowed to kill anyone here, are you? It’d cause too much hassle for your mob pals.”
Jerry laughs in a way I recognize well, unhinged, crazed. It’s the same way he laughed when he was dancing around the studio at the camp, waving himself at me as I did the only thing I thought I could do, as I painted his grotesque body.
Suddenly anger bubbles up inside me, louder and more compelling than the fear that simmers beneath it all.
“You’re a sick fuck,” I scream. “Why can’t you just leave me alone? I was a kid when we met. Don’t you understand how wrong that is?”
“Oh, my silly goose,” he says, using the nickname which has always made me cringe and wish he was dead. “Do you really think I’m going to let you get away with abandoning me? We could’ve been something.”
“Last chance,” Zack says, voice calm and matter-of-fact. “Or I’m going to fuck you up, all of you, badly.”
Jerry sighs as he slowly lowers his gun. “Well done, big man. You’re right. We’re not allowed to put you in the ground… at least not here. But there’s nothing stopping us from beating you bloody and taking sweet Zoey anyway.”
Zack laughs gruffly. “Give it your best shot.”
Jerry grimaces, nodding at Zack. “Lads, let’s show this worm what happens when he challenges the Irish mob.”
The men begin to stalk forward, slowly, spreading out in the small space. They hold their guns more like batons now, as though they’re getting ready to beat Zack senseless with the cruel metal barrels. I watch, terrified, as Zack’s whole body tenses up.
He’s wearing a T-shirt – hastily thrown on when the alarm went off – and I can see the solid mass of his back muscles pulling taut from shoulder to shoulder, every part of him rigid and ready for war.
“How do you think this is going to end?” Jerry scowls. “It’s better if you step aside and—”