Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
I don't know how long I sat there.
But as what felt like hours ticked on, the day started to catch up with me, making exhaustion work its way through every inch of my body until I was fighting to keep my heavy eyelids open.
I must have lost the battle at some point, because it was the leader's voice that startled me awake an unknown amount of time later, making me lurch up out of my chair before I was fully even conscious, let alone aware of my surroundings.
"Sit," he demanded, making my body comply without hesitation. "Good. Now, we need to have a conversation," he said, casting a glance down at his man. "After you've checked on your patient. We shoved some antibiotics down his throat an hour or so back."
"Good," I said, rising, every inch of me feeling weak and shaky as I reached out to press my fingers into his throat, finding his pulse stronger, steadier. "His pulse is good. His color too."
"So he'll live."
"I think so," I said, sitting back down because I didn't trust my legs to keep holding me.
"Alright so. We made a deal, you and I. You take care of my man, and you get to walk out of here."
"I, ah, yeah," I agreed, nodding, because he seemed to be waiting for me to answer.
"But you see my problem here, right? You've seen my face. All our faces. You know what the house looks like. You know we shot some people tonight."
"I won't say anything."
"Yeaaah," he said, drawing out the word as he reached to rub at the scruff on his face. "They all say that. Seems a lot of people get loose lips when they get a little space. Getting all brave. Talking to cops and shit."
"I won't. I promise. I won't tell anyone."
"I know you won't," he said, reaching out toward his seeming second-in-command, a tall, wide man who handed him a stack of what looked like pictures. "See, I got a handful of reasons you are going to keep that pretty mouth shut about ever seeing us, being here. Let's see. Ah, here. This your Mama?" he asked, turning a picture of my mom out to face me.
It was one of my favorites of her, the one I shared every Mother's Day. It was her in the backyard, cradling her cat Ford to her shoulder. It was the cat that had, in a way, brought my parents together all those years ago.
"Yes," I admitted, swallowing past the lump in my throat.
"And this," he said, producing another picture, one I had just shared online a few days ago, one of me and Hope who I'd needed to force into taking a selfie with me as we painted my bathroom. "She's a pretty thing," he decided, making my stomach twist. "And this..." he said, producing one picture, dropping it on my lap. Then another. And another. And another. "See, this is how we figured you out, lil' mama. My friend here recognized you from a fight a little bit back. Threw yourself between two fighters. Helped this fuck out of the ring. Niro, right? A biker."
"Please," I said, shaking my head.
"Please what?" he asked, brows raising, eyes looking innocent, but there was something evil in the way his lips twitched. "Don't snatch him like we snatched you? Don't bring him somewhere real quiet, and start hacking parts of him off while you watch? Don't do that?"
I couldn't manage words, just a horrified little whimpering noise. The visual was instantaneous and undeniable. Even when I squeezed my eyes shut, it was right there behind my lids, turning my stomach, making my heart hammer in my chest.
"No," I said, tears welling up and slipping out. "Don't do that," I begged. "Please."
"Well, that's up to you, isn't it?" he said, shrugging. "You walk out of here, you clean yourself up, you pretend you've never seen my face, never pulled a plug out of my man, never even walked down that street where the shooting started, and I won't have to. But if I so much as see a suspicious shadow behind me one day, lil' mama, I will find the dullest knife I can, and start hacking parts of lover boy off while you watch. It will take hours. Hell, maybe days if I'm careful enough. Choice is yours," he added, rising from his seat, leaving me to gather my pictures, holding them to my chest where my heart felt like it was attempting to jump ship, go find another body to animate.
"Let's go," his second-in-command said, waving a hand out.
With nothing else to do, I rose. I followed him through the house. I climbed into the trunk when he opened the top.
And then I walked into my apartment building with a numbness coursing through my whole body, tossing my bloody scrubs into the wash, walking naked to the bathroom, falling down on my knees in the shower, finally letting the tears and sobs escape.