Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 47117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
“Why would you go there, Nathan? They could have killed you.”
“I know. I didn’t say it was the smartest move. I hated that I’d put you in this situation again, Renee. Hated that I put you in danger.”
“What do you mean put me in danger?” she asked as she continued cleaning him off.
“When I went there and talked to Marco—”
“Which one is Marco?” she asked, her throat tight. She’d heard of the Cardonas, of course, as did anyone who was smart and lived within a three-state radius, but there were a lot of people working with them.
“Sal’s son.”
Her throat tightened, and her heart seized.
Sal, the head of the Family.
If Marco had been the one to issue the threat, who was most likely next in line to be the leader of their organization, shit was even worse than she had thought.
“He said there was no negotiation. He said if I didn’t come up with the money he’d start coming after everyone I held close, starting with you first.”
Of course, there was no negotiation, and her brother had been a stupid fool to think going there and bargaining would help. But he’d done it to try to save her from this, and that made her cry harder.
Her heart started beating faster. She knew Nathan was in danger and wasn’t stupid to think the Cardonas wouldn’t use any means necessary to get their money back. She’d known they would go to any lengths, but she’d been more focused on trying to get the money to save Nathan than worry about anything else.
“I’m so sorry,” he said and started crying.
She pulled him in for a hug and just held him, not knowing what to say or do to make this better. That wasn’t true, though. That little piece of napkin was burning a hole in her pocket, and as much as she didn’t want to be bought, didn’t want to be someone’s whore, she had to save her brother.
She had to save herself. He was weak, had been his whole life. His vices made him a target, easy pickings, and he’d gotten into trouble because of it most of his life. But at heart, he was a good guy, cared about her, and she knew that although he had his addictions, he also knew what he did was wrong.
He just couldn’t stop.
“Come on. Let’s go to my place so you can get some rest and so Frankie doesn’t have to deal with this drama.” She helped him off the couch but didn’t miss how he winced and groaned.
They left Frankie’s house and walked into hers next door. Once Nathan was in bed, she went back out to the front porch. Frankie was outside, a joint in his hand.
“You think he should go to the hospital?”
“I don’t know. I’m kind of scared to take him, though, given…” She glanced at him, knowing he’d heard everything that Nate had said. “Given all of it, you know.”
He took a hit off the joint and nodded, passing it over to her. “It’s probably safer not to take him there. They’ll ask questions you probably wouldn’t and shouldn’t answer.”
Frankie was right. She took the joint from him and inhaled off the end, needing something to calm her nerves, although she knew pot wouldn’t really help her, not with this situation.
They stood side-by-side, looking at the rundown duplexes and houses across the street, at the trash blowing down the cracked sidewalks, the smell of the weed surrounding them.
“Nate’s in deep, Butters.”
She nodded, not looking at him, but taking another hit from the joint. Holding in the smoke for several seconds, Butters exhaled, a cloud swirling in front of her face for a second before dissipating. “It’s really bad, Frankie.”
He placed a hand on her shoulder, and she closed her eyes, feeling the weight of all of this press down further on her. “How deep is he in with the Cardonas?”
She handed the joint back and stepped to the side, his hand falling away. “A lot, Frankie. A lot more than I can get on my own.”
“How much?” he asked again.
Butters looked at him, holding her breath for a second. “Ten thousand dollars.”
He didn’t answer, just brought the joint to his lips and inhaled. “That’s a lot,” he said while holding in the smoke. “More than I have to give.”
“Yeah,” Butters said and looked at the street again.
“You know if I had that kind of money, I’d give it to you.”
Butters smiled. “I know, because you’re a decent person, Frankie.”
“I’m sorry, Butters.”
She turned and faced him. “I’ll figure it out.” She looked at the ground. “Even if I have to sell my soul to the devil, I’ll figure it out.”
For another ten minutes, she stayed outside with Frankie, but they didn’t really say much. The air was too heavy with what was going on. Frankie said he’d help in any way he could, but the truth was, she was cutting ties with him, not because she didn’t trust him but because she thought of him as a friend.