Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 112069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
"Gio," I began, but knew my mistake the instant I said it.
"That's not my name! My name is Nick! Stop calling me that!"
"Nick," Remy called as he moved into the room. I could tell he was just as surprised as me at the turn of events.
"You did this," Gio snarled as he turned his upper body so he could face Remy. "You planned this with him! You pretended to be my friend so you could trick me! All of you are trying to trick me!"
From the way Gio was holding the glass, I could tell he was cutting his own hand because more and more blood dripped onto the floor. But he seemed not to even notice. As badly as I wanted to get that piece of glass out of his hand, I was terrified that if there was a struggle, he'd end up hurting himself even worse.
"Nick," Remy began. "I swear, I don't know what—"
"This!" my son screamed as he flung something at Remy. My keychain with the soccer ball bounced off Remy's chest and hit the floor at his feet. We both stared at it in silence for a moment. Remy looked horrified.
"Nick, I—" he started to say, but then Gio was yelling again.
"Shut up! I just want to leave here! You can't keep me here like this! You killed Kurt. You all killed Kurt!"
Remy carefully stooped down to pick up the keychain. I could see that he was tearing up.
"Nick—"
Gio cut Remy off again. "You left that here on purpose! You…"—Gio looked at all of us in turn—"You all planned this! You did something to make me think I recognize that!”
"No," Remy called, his voice cracking. "It was an accident. I had this clipped on to Violet's pants. It must've fallen off yesterday when we were here. I wasn't trying to trick you, Gio… Nick. I swear, no one is trying to trick you."
Seeing Remy so distraught was as equally devastating as watching my son fall apart. It was one thing when my son hated only me and blamed me for what he was going through, but to put that on Remy…
"Gio," I said, knowing the use of his real name would divert his attention back to me, "Let's just talk. You and me. We can figure out what to do next."
The move worked because Gio turned his attention back to me. He looked like a broken doll as he dragged himself backward until his back hit the wall behind him. The move scared the shit out of me because it smacked of desperation, fear, and a level of rage that was so all-consuming that he probably wasn't even aware of what he was doing.
"I don't know you," Gio whispered, his voice now quiet and lost. He cradled the piece of glass against his chest almost lovingly. The jagged edge was just inches from his throat. I was so terrified that I couldn’t move or breathe.
"Luca," I heard Remy call. I couldn't take my eyes off my son. "Tell me about when you got this keychain from your son." I hated how Remy's voice wobbled. I had no doubt he was somehow blaming himself for this moment, but there was nothing I could do to comfort him.
I sensed movement behind us but ignored it.
“It was a few days after I took Gio to Central Park for his eighth birthday. We’d spent the day playing soccer, just the two of us. We used the ball my brothers and I had used when we were kids. I gave the ball to Gio to keep and promised we’d play again at least once a week going forward. He wanted King, Con, Lex, and Vaughn to join us—so we could play teams. Me, him, and Lex against King, Con, and Vaughn. The prize was going to be a trophy we called the Covello Cup but when it came time to find something to use as a trophy, we couldn’t find anything. So we bought three keychains with these little soccer balls on it.” I couldn’t help but glance at the keychain in Remy’s hand. I could feel the tears stinging the backs of my eyes. I risked looking at my son as I continued. He was staring at the floor, so I wasn’t sure if he was even listening.
“We played the following weekend. It was an all-day tournament. Gio’s mom was our referee.” I let out a watery laugh as I added, “Vaughn, King, and Con weren’t too happy about that.” I paused as the memory of that day washed over me. It’d been the last time we’d all been together as a family.
“It was a perfect day,” I murmured. “After we won, Gio wrote his name on his keychain. He… he gave it to me because he wanted to make sure I never forgot him or that day. I put my name on mine and gave it to him because I never wanted him to doubt how much I loved him and that he would always come first in my life, no matter what.”