Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Grabbing the keys, I bleeped the locks, then followed the sound of the beep until I found a black luxury sedan, then threw myself into it.
I knew that my best bet would be to tell one of them, to call Nino, as I sat in the driver’s seat for an embarrassingly long moment to realize I needed to step on the break to hit the push-to-start engine button.
But when I tried, his phone went right to voicemail.
Off?
He had it off?
During an emergency sort of situation that involved a safe house?
But, I guess, if I was supposed to be staying in said safe house, there was no reason for him to think I might be calling with a problem. And, well, he was on a job. He probably couldn’t have his phone on if… they were, you know, doing things. Illegal things.
After a search on my phone to find where Taylor Avenue was, I did another quick search for the only thing I had to go on.
Famiglia.
The restaurant he’d taken me to.
It had been bustling with activity when he’d taken me, even though it was off hours. I was praying that meant someone was around who could get a message to Luca, who owned it, and therefore to Nino.
I hit dial as I flew out of the parking space, and sped out of the lot.
“Famiglia,” a voice said. Not a young, perky woman, like you’d expect of a hostess, but a more seasoned older man.
“I, ah, I need to get an urgent message to Mr. Grassi,” I said, cruising through a stop sign, shoulders hunching up like police sirens were going to start screaming at me for the violation.
“I am Mr. Grassi,” he said, making me stiffen.
Mr. Grassi?
Maybe an uncle?
Or, no, Luca’s dad.
Nino had mentioned that Luca and his dad ran the restaurant.
“You’re Luca’s dad, right?” I asked.
“Yes. Antony Grassi,” he said. “Who am I speaking to, my dear?”
“This is Savannah. I’m Nino’s, ah, girlfriend,” I said, hearing the breathlessness in my own voice as I was forced to stop at a red light.
“What’s going on?” he asked, suddenly all that customer service formality gone. I could practically hear the mafia boss in his voice. Because, surely, that was how it worked, right? Luca was the boss now. But before him, it was his father?
“I got a call. From the guys who have my mom,” I said, pushing the pedal damn near to the floor as soon as the light turned green.
I’d never been a reckless driver. Hell, I never sped in general. I believed in the so-called ‘rules of the road,’ and how they were put into place to keep people alive.
But, damnit, I was trying to keep someone alive right now too.
“Tell me you didn’t leave the safe house,” he said, and I heard a snapping sound, like he was trying to get someone else’s attention.
“Nino isn’t answering his phone. And they said I only had a half an hour. So I have to go. I have to. It’s my mom,” I added on a choked sound.
“Okay. Okay,” he said, trying to calm me down because, even to my own ears, the hysteria was clearly building up inside me. “Where did they want you to meet them?”
“The old bike shop on Taylor Avenue,” I told him. If my mental map was right, I was close already.
“Okay, honey. Listen to me, I am going to have someone there with you in under ten minutes. I need you to park and wait for—“
I ended the call.
I understood his concern.
Truly, I did.
But I couldn’t wait an extra ten minutes.
It was already almost fifteen minutes after the call. Waiting another ten was going to cut it way, way too close. And that was assuming that someone wasn’t watching, wouldn’t notice one of the mafia guys showing up instead of me.
No.
I had to do what they said.
Even if I knew, technically, it was a trap, that they were only trying to get to Nino through me. That there were a lot of awful, wicked, painful things they could do to me to accomplish that goal.
It didn’t matter.
Because those things could be happening to my mom this very moment. They could have been happening all night for all I knew.
I couldn’t let it happen for another minute while I stood by twiddling my thumbs, waiting for the men to come save her.
Besides, I had the gun.
Did I fully trust my aiming and shooting skills?
No.
But I figured that if you were close enough to someone, it did away with a lot of the issues there.
I never would have been able to picture myself considering shooting or murdering another human being before. I was a pacifist by nature. I believed in doing as little harm as possible to others.
That said, no one had ever messed with my mom before.