Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 71312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
She nods and continues her conversation.
I step into my huge master bathroom and turn on my shower, twisting the knob for water and then for steam.
A steam shower sounds like heaven after what went down earlier.
I need to cleanse every bit of this day from my pores.
Except fucking Savannah, of course. But I’ll do that again soon.
I still wish she’d let me take her to the ER, but I understand her reluctance. I don’t want to recount this story either.
Which reminds me. I need to call my father.
I pick the phone up from where I tossed it on top of the toilet and dial him.
“Falcon?”
“Yeah. You got a minute?”
“Sure.”
“Raven doing okay?”
“She is. She’s looking real good too.”
“Good. Glad to hear it. Because I need a favor.”
“Sure, son.”
“I need you to quash a story that may be going to the local newspapers, and because it’s us, it might be going to the national outlets.”
“For God’s sake, Falcon—”
“It’s not me. I swear.” I relay what happened as my father listens intently on the other side of the line.
“Criminy,” he says.
“I know, right?”
“Your parole officer, Fal? Really?”
I huff into the phone. “That’s what you got out of the story? We could have both been killed, Dad.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. Believe me, I came close to losing one child, and I’m not in the mood to lose any of you.” His voice cracks, and he clears his throat. “This isn’t your fault, Falcon, and I’m sorry I assumed it was. I’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks, Dad. I owe you.”
“Not a problem. Are you okay, though? You and she both?”
“We’re handling it. The cops were here, and they’ll be sniffing around because of who I am. I’m not sure they know who she is yet, but it won’t take long.”
“You’re right about that. I’m on it, so ease your mind.”
“Thanks,” I say again before ending the call.
My shower’s been running for ten minutes, and it’s good and steamy.
I step in and inhale, waiting for all the problems to release from my shoulders.
They don’t.
But at least the water feels good as it pelts my sore muscles.
10
SAVANNAH
“You sure it was the McAllisters?” Dad asks me for the tenth time.
“No. I’m not a hundred percent sure, but who else could it be?”
“You didn’t recognize either of the men?”
“Only the one, but just because I saw him waiting tables at a local Italian place.”
Shit. I have to call Jordan next.
“All right. I’m going to get in touch with your grandfather right away. This won’t be tolerated, Savannah.”
“Just don’t hurt anyone.”
He sighs. “You know I can’t make that promise.”
“Yeah, but you can’t blame me for trying.”
“I think you should come home, Sav,” he says.
I knew that was coming.
It would be so easy for me to go running home to Daddy. I did it before, the only other time something like this happened.
It was Miles himself that time, and he didn’t have a gun.
What’s different about this time?
Why does he care?
Or…was it even Miles or the McAllisters?
Does my grandfather have other enemies?
What a dumbass question. Of course he does. He’s a fucking mob boss.
“I can’t,” I say. “You know that’s not the answer.”
“Your mother and I understand how you’re feeling. I got into this of my own volition, but your mother—and you—were born into it. I’m sorry for that, Savannah. We’ve already lost so much.”
He’s thinking about my two brothers.
Vincent Junior, who left the country ten years ago and is living under an alias somewhere to avoid the family’s wrath.
And Michael.
Michael, who was killed by rival gunfire.
To prove some kind of ridiculous point.
They say it’s not personal. It’s business.
But when you kill a young man, how can that not be personal?
Michael did what Grandpa asked of him. He married Elizabeth McAllister, Miles’s cousin. He wasn’t in love with her, nor she with him.
And he still ended up as a casualty.
“I miss Vinny and Mike,” I say softly.
“We all do, Sav,” Dad says. “And I will not allow you to end up like the two of them.”
“At least Vinny’s alive,” I say.
“As far as we know. We don’t even know what country he’s in.”
“Italy or Spain. Those are the languages he speaks.”
“Maybe. You don’t think I’ve scoured every Italian- and Spanish-speaking country trying to find him? He disappeared into thin air, Sav. It guts me. In a way it’s worse than Mikey. At least we know he’s gone. At peace.”
Yeah.
That doesn’t make me feel any better at all. To me, they’re both gone, and I sure as hell don’t want to be next.
I don’t want to live in a foreign country, constantly wondering if a rival family will find me. Never talking to anyone I know again.
And I don’t want to leave here.
I don’t want to leave…
I don’t want to leave Falcon Bellamy.
I’m not in love with him. That’s impossible. And even if I were, he’s certainly not in love with me.