Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 108623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Fontane is up to something, I know. I watched the three of them closely today, and something has shifted. The females are coming unglued, and he’s starting to open his eyes. Too bad for him after today it’s too little too late. They should’ve stopped while they were ahead.
“What’re you going to do to her?” I turned my head to look at him as he drove.
“What makes you think I’m going to do anything to her?” His answer was just a look that said all he wanted to.
“Due to the nature of your future endeavors, it’s best you don’t ask.”
“I’m not asking as a future cop, but as your brother.”
“And for that reason, I won’t put you in an awkward position, brother.” He cursed a blue streak which I ignored.
“We’re here.” He pulled into the parking lot of the ice cream parlor. “I’m gonna call Unc.”
“Suit yourself.” He pulled his phone and followed me. I could hear him reassuring Pop that I was okay, just needed to go for a ride. His excuse for not answering is that he was out of signal range. Something that’s quite convincing with all the wooded areas on the outskirts of town. But he and I both know Pop’s not going to buy that. I’d have driven myself around if all I wanted was to get away for a while. Plus, I wouldn’t leave Gianna alone and hurt for something that petty.
I realized I was on autopilot only when I left the store with her treat in hand. I don’t think I’ve had another thought other than how to bring Victoria’s world crashing down around her since I left the parking lot. Other than the time spent making sure Gianna was okay, that is.
We drove to the house in silence. “You staying in?”
“Yes, she should be up by now. I’m not leaving her alone.”
“Gabe.” Pop came out on the steps; I could see the relief on his face and felt slightly guilty about what I’d put him through. “You good?”
“Yeah, Pop, I’m good. Is Gianna up?”
“Yeah, your mother just ran her a hot bath when she woke up according to your uncle’s wishes.”
“Okay, I’ll go see her now.”
“Go see your mother first; she’s worried about you.” I took five minutes to see Ma, who stopped fretting once she saw that I was okay before rushing upstairs to Gianna.
She was still in the bathtub relaxing with her eyes closed. The bubbles had dissipated, and it was plain to see the bruise on her side as I got closer. I bit into my fist to hold the scream of rage at bay before turning to leave unseen, but she still heard me somehow.
“Gabriel?”
“Yeah,” I had to clear my throat, “Yeah, baby, sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“That’s okay; the water’s growing cold. Pass me a towel?” I’m sure she thinks I averted my face out of courtesy because she was naked, but I’ve felt her against me enough to know what she looks like even with clothes on.
No, I’m hiding the rage. She’s so innocent she doesn’t even comprehend the firestorm that was set off today because of her. The storm we ran from in Virginia today pales in comparison. I won’t share with anyone what I’m about to do, least of all her. It’s like my father said, we don’t give warnings, we just act.
I waited patiently all through dinner, watching over her, the way she was cossetted by everyone, including Nana, who tends to be a bit standoffish with new people. No one mentioned what happened earlier that day, but each time she winced when she pulled her side, I had to grip my hands into fists to keep myself seated there.
That night, she didn’t even pretend to go to her room; I didn’t let her. I took her to my bed and got her settled, waiting for her to fall asleep before hopping on my computer to get to work. I felt guilty towards her. There was more than Victoria to blame for what happened to her. I was there; I didn’t protect her. She’s supposed to feel safe with me there, and I let her down. But woe to the one who brought it about, who shattered her sense of safety.
RUSSO
“May I help you, sir?”
“My name is Antonio Russo, Mr. Fontane. You’ve met my son and grandson, I believe. May I come in?” I waited respectfully for his response while he checked out the men behind me with curiosity. I can imagine how they look to him or anyone who’s ever seen a badly written mafioso movie. Thugs all of them, but my sons won’t let me leave the house without them; even here, so many miles away from where I lived that life and did my business.
“Yes, yes, of course, come in. What brings you here at this hour?” I waved my men off as they made to follow me inside. “No, you stay out here and wait for me.” I followed the man down the hallway into what must’ve once been a very attractive room but was now a tacky shell of gaudy furnishings, and the color was all wrong. This is a reflection on the lady of the house, as my good wife would say. Insecure, tasteless, tacky, but I wasn’t here for that.