Total pages in book: 767
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
His lips twitch. He knows I’m bluffing. “You know why I’m here.”
His voice is deep. The rasp of that dark tone resonates with authority and something more disturbing––sensuality. He speaks evenly, articulating every word. Somehow, the musical quality and controlled volume of his voice make the statement sound ten times more threatening than if he’d shouted it. Under different circumstances I would’ve been enchanted by the rich timbre. All I feel now is fear, and it’s reflected on Charlie’s face. I hate that I can’t take it away for him.
“I’ll only ask you once,” Gabriel says, “and I want a simply yes or no answer.” Tap, tap.
Tap, tap. “Do you have my money?”
Spatters of words dribble from Charlie’s lips. “I–I do–don’t li–like them. Not ni–nice me–men.”
The man on the left, the one with the lime green eyes, lifts his gun and aims at Charlie’s feet. It happens too fast. Before I can charge, his finger tightens on the trigger. The silencer dampens the shot. I wait for the damage, blood to color the white of Charlie’s tennis shoe, but instead there’s a wail, and Puff falls over.
Oh, no. Please. No. Dear God. No, no, no.
It has to be a horror movie, but the hole between Puff’s eyes is very real. So is the blood running onto the linoleum. The lifeless body on the floor unfurls a rage in me. He was only a defenseless animal. The unfairness, the cruelty, and my own helplessness are fuel on my shocked senses.
In a fit of blind fury, I storm the man with the gun. “You sorry excuse of a man!”
He ducks, easily grabbing both my wrists in one hand. When he aims the gun at my head,
Gabriel says, his beautiful voice vibrating like a tight-pulled guitar string, “Let her go.”
The man obliges, giving me a shove that makes me stumble. The minute I’m free, I go for Gabriel, punching my fists in his stomach and on his chest. The more he stands there and takes my hammering, my assault having no effect on him, the closer I come to tears.
Gabriel lets me carry on, to make a fool of myself, no doubt, but I can’t help it. I go on until my energy is spent, and I have to stop in painful defeat. Going down on my knees, I feel Puff’s tiny chest. His heartbeat is gone. I want to hug him to my body, but Charlie is huddled in the corner, ripping at his hair.
Ignoring the men, I straighten and cup Charlie’s hands, pulling them away from his head.
“Remember what I said about being brave?”
“Bra–brave.”
So much hatred for Gabriel and his cronies fills me that my heart is as black as a burnt-out volcano. There’s no space for anything good in there. I know I shouldn’t give in to the darkness of the sensations coursing through my soul, but it’s as if the blackness is an ink stain that bleeds over the edges of a page. I embrace the anger. If I don’t, fear will consume me.
Gabriel gives me a strangely compassionate look. “You owe me an answer.”
“Look around you.” I motion at our flat. “Does it look like we can afford that kind of money? You’re a twisted man for giving a mentally disabled person a loan.”
His eyes narrow and crinkle in the corners. “You have no idea how twisted I’m willing to get.” Gabriel grasps Charlie by the collar of his T-shirt, dragging him closer. “For the record, if you didn’t want your brother to make debt, you should’ve declared him incompetent and revoked his financial signing power.”
“Leave him alone!”
I grab Gabriel’s arm and hang on it with my full weight, but it makes no difference. I’m dangling on him like a piece of washing on a line. He swats me away, sending me flying to the ground, and presses the barrel of his pistol against my brother’s soft temple where a vein pulses with an innocent life not yet lived.
“Va–Val!”
He cocks the safety. “Yes or no?”
“Yes!” Using the wall at my back for support, I scramble to my feet. “I’ll pay it.”
Charlie cries softly. Gabriel looks at me as if he notices nothing else. His eyes pin me to the spot. Under his gaze, I’m a frog splayed and nailed to a board, and he holds the scalpel in his hand.
He doesn’t lower the gun. “Do you know how much?” “Yes.” My voice doesn’t waver.
“Say it.”
“Four hundred thousand.”
“Where’s the money?”
The ghost of a smile is back on his face. Behind the scarred mask is a man who knows how to hurt people to get what he wants, but for now he’s entertained. The bastard finds the situation amusing.
“I’ll pay it off.”
He tilts his head. “You’ll pay it off.” He makes it sound as if I’m mad.
“With interest.”
“Miss Haynes, I assume.” Despite his declared assumption, he says it like it’s a fact.