Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
He can’t tolerate dissent, not like this. Not in front of Rastus. Maybe, maybe, if the head of the Filo family weren’t here—but even then, I think my father would have a hard time letting me survive after hearing all that.
No, he’s only got one choice now. Bury me, leave me in the dark, leave me there to die.
At least Adrienne will be okay. All because my father is too much of a coward to risk his precious new alliance. I can count on that, at least.
“I understand you lost friends,” Father says and clears his throat. “We all lost. But there comes a day when the fighting has to end. Do you really want more people to lose their lives?”
“I want it all to mean something.”
“Then you’re in the wrong fucking business.” Father takes a deep breath and calms himself. He looks down at Rastus. “What do you do with traitors in your family?”
Rastus strokes his chin. “For something like this? A beating, perhaps a fine. Perhaps we’d cut off a finger or two. He went against your orders and took a job behind your back, but—” He shrugs a bit. “However, after what he just said? That’s a different story. That’s a more serious offense. He seems to think he’s above the law. Above the family. And nobody’s above the family.”
Father comes toward me. “It isn’t just that you took a job, Peter. It’s that the job you took put the family’s standing in jeopardy. You knew it was wrong and you did it anyway, and I’m sorry, son. It breaks my heart, but I’m sorry.”
He raises the gun. I straighten my back and face my father. Thousands of memories flash through my mind, some of them good, some of them happy. I always looked up to my father—he was a titan in my mind, the biggest man alive, the strongest and best father imaginable. I did everything for him and for the family.
And now I’m done.
At least I’ll die on my feet, like a man. I stare at my father and it’s strange. Despite everything, I don’t feel surprised. I wonder if I’ve always felt like he was going to kill me one day, ever since I was a boy and he’d shout me down when I made a mistake in my training. I was terrified of him back then, so terrified, and no matter how old I get that terror is still inside of me, etched into my skin, lodged into my body. What happens when we’re young echoes throughout our whole lives, no matter how far away we get.
A moment passes. An eternity. The gun aims at my head. My father meets my gaze and he hesitates. There are tears at the rims of his eyelids. In the end, he’s still my father. Still the man that raised me.
I grab the ouzo glass and fling it at his face as hard as I can.
It whizzes through the air and hits him in the forehead. He grunts in pain and the gun goes off, shooting wide. I turn and slam into the first guard, barreling my shoulder into him and grabbing the gun at his waist. I rip it from the holster and I fire at the second guard, hit him in the chest twice, and turn the barrel on the guard I’m grappling with. He grunts in surprise as I shoot him in the chin, blowing a hole in the back of his skull.
Father regains himself and fires at me. The bullet hits the dead guard instead as I shove the bloody corpse toward Rastus. The old Filo boss careens back from the table, his cigar flying from his mouth, and Adrienne leaps at him and punches him in the nose wildly. He grunts and topples to the ground, hitting the floor hard.
“Adrienne!” I rush Father and smash the gun into his face before he can gather himself and take another shot. He drops with a grunt, my old man, my slow old father, and I grab Adrienne’s hand, pulling her away.
We run. Gunshots go off, blasting into the walls behind us. The guards outside are barreling back in now. One’s up ahead near the door and I shoot him twice before he has the chance to do the same to me. Adrienne’s shaking, but she’s running, and we burst through the door together. The front yard is clear—they couldn’t station armed men in broad daylight—and the way to the car is open.
Adrienne’s in first and I throw the car keys at her. I turn and fire at the house to keep the guards chasing us away. Once she’s buckled and the car’s running, I jump in behind the wheel, jam the pedal down, and peel out. The car races forward, leaving the bloodbath behind.
I’m shaking with adrenaline as it burns in my veins. Adrienne says nothing, only sits and stares white-faced and horrified at having witnessed two murders. I drive at random, making sure nobody’s following, before I pull over in a crowded part of the city with lots of people around.