Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
I text back, It’s fine, I can take the bus.
Which gets only one word in reply: No.
That’s the end of that. When my shift is over, the driver’s waiting for me out front, some nice older man that runs a private taxi service. He talks about his grandkids as he takes me back to Saul’s house.
No, my house. Now it’s also my house.
The place is empty when I get inside. I make myself leftovers and drift from room to room. The place is gorgeous, but it’s so big, and without Saul to suck up all the air and take up all the space, it feels overwhelming. I curl up on the couch and call Jason, mostly because I can’t stand not knowing what’s happening back at the apartment.
“Hey, I thought you were dead,” he says cheerfully.
“Still breathing, unlucky you.”
“Please, if your new guy ended up stealing all your organs, I’d have to deal with the funeral arrangements. What a drag.”
“I’ll keep my kidneys to spare you a little administrative work.”
“Thanks, I’d appreciate that. How are things over there, anyway?”
“They’re okay,” I tell him and that’s kind of true. It’s more complicated than that—I flirted with Saul on the phone earlier like a total moron, even though it felt really good—but I’m starting to acclimate to the house at least. “He’s working late so I’m alone tonight.”
“What a drag. Or you’re lucky? I don’t really know.”
“Want to come see the place? It’s really fancy. Like rich person fancy.”
He snorts. “Tempted, but I gotta study.”
“How’s Nana?”
“She’s the same as always. Smoking like a chimney. Want to talk to her?”
“Yeah, sure, put her on. You keep studying, okay?”
“Got nothing else to do. Okay, hold on, here she is.” There’s the sound of rustling then Nana’s voice.
“Hi, hon, how are you?”
“Bored,” I admit.
“That new husband of yours not taking care of you?”
“He’s just not home, that’s all.”
She shouts something away from the receiver and I hear Jason’s laughing reply. “What a shame. You’re stuck in a fancy house while your new rich husband is off doing whatever he does.”
“Sports gambling.”
“Uh-huh, sure. Well things are fine here, in case you were wondering. Tell Saul I want more cigarettes.”
“You’re out already?”
“Not yet, but I’m stockpiling. Who knows how long this will last?”
I roll my eyes. “Okay, Nana, I’ll tell him. Need anything else?”
“Paper towels. Toilet paper too. Hey, Jason, you need anything from the gravy train?” A muffled reply that sounds a lot like no thanks. “He’s fine.”
I want to invite her over, but I know getting around isn’t easy. I wish she’d tell me to come back home because right now I want nothing more than to curl up on the couch and watch Jason study while trying to read. I even miss the smell of smoke and Nana’s coughing. But she shouts something away from the phone again then says goodbye and hangs up, leaving me alone in the big, empty house.
It’s strange. I’ve lived with Nana and Jason my whole life. There hasn’t been more than a night or two where I’ve slept under a different roof. And now that I’m here, it’s like I’ve left my old life behind and they’re moving on without me. I know that isn’t true—they’re just doing what they always do—but I’ve never felt so distant from them.
I hate it. I wish it could be different. But this is what I chose, and it was the right decision. Nana and Jason will be taken care of. I’ll have help in raising the baby. Maybe stuff’s weird with Saul, but we’ll figure it out. Our marriage will be loveless and sexless, and that’s just fine.
It’s absolutely, totally fine.
Chapter 15
Saul
I step onto broken glass. It crunches underfoot as I make my way into the dark building. Bullet holes are torn into booths and bottles are smashed all over the bar. Blood’s splashed against one wall, and the stage is a mess of dollar bills and thrown drinks.
“How bad?” I ask as I hurry over to where Dante and Carlo are gathered around a body.
The dead guy’s Irish. Pale skin, light brown hair, angular cheekbones. He could be related to Molly, and he really might be for all I fucking know. It’s a goddamn mess.
“None dead,” Carlo says, kicking the corpse. “Except for this fucker.”
“He had two friends. We’re in the process of hunting them down.” Dante looks grim. “We got lucky. There were a few Rinaldo soldiers in the crowd tonight and they opened fire the second the Irish tried something.”
I nod slowly, taking a deep breath. “What were they after?”
“Money,” Carlo says. “Tried to go for the safe in the back.”
“We’ll have one hell of a time getting this shit cleaned up.” Dante shakes his head as he paces away. “I’m already making calls. We need to put a response together.”