Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 95833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Elise stares at me. She doesn’t believe it and neither do I.
“You should eat more red meat,” she says slowly. “For the iron.”
“Yeah, right. The iron.”
She treads water, watching me.
“It’s a rumor,” she says so quietly I almost don’t hear. “Just a stupid rumor.”
“What is? The red meat?”
“The reason I asked you about your father.”
The ringing comes back. Not as loud this time, and I’m able to force it away by squeezing my eyes shut hard.
If Elise notices, she doesn’t say anything.
“What’s the rumor, Elise?” I open my eyes. I have to see her face.
“You know what your father does for a living. You know who he is. The Bruno Famiglia. The boys and their violence.” She’s not smiling, not like before.
“I know,” I whisper.
“It’s just rumors. Just talk, okay? But they say when your dad used to get rid of his opponents, he’d use his hands to—” She mimes wrapping them around her throat. “You know what I mean?”
I feel sick.
I pull myself from the water and stagger back to my chair. I wrap myself in a clean towel and curl up in a tight ball, my knees to my chest.
Elise gets out but stands a few feet away.
“I’m sorry,” she says, chewing her lip. For the first time since she married my father six years ago on the heels of my mother’s death, she looks like a real human being. “I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s really messed up, but I thought you knew.”
“No, I didn’t. He’s my papa.”
“I know, sweetie, I know. He’s still your dad no matter what, and it’s just a rumor, right? It doesn’t mean a damn thing.” She grabs a towel and her usual smug smile slowly returns. “God, I’m going to have to redo my hair and everything. I love pools but I hate going in them.”
“Thanks for saving me.”
“No sweat, sweetie. Can you imagine how mad your dad would be if I let you drown?” She laughs, plops back down in her chair, and checks herself in her phone’s camera. “Oh, god, this is terrible. Look, will you be okay out here alone for a while? I need to fix myself ASAP.”
“It’s okay, really. I’m good now. I won’t move for a while.”
She gives me a steady look like she’s trying to decide if I’m lying and nods. “Sounds good. Forget what I said, ‘kay, sweetie?” She hops up and runs back to the house.
Poor Elise. She can’t stand spending two minutes without her hair and face done up to perfection.
I lean back and stare up at the blue sky.
Wispy clouds drift past.
My dream flashes. Papa’s hands around a throat.
What am I remembering?
Rumor or reality?
And does it even matter, when soon enough I won’t be here anymore?
Chapter 13
Karah
Another night of no sleep.
I find myself downstairs and decide to actively avoid the pool. Lately, the pool hasn’t been so good to me.
Instead, I head for the rec room, hoping it’s empty and I can watch a movie or something until I pass out. As soon as I open the door and step inside, I really regret my decision.
Casso and Nico sit at the bar with glasses of whiskey next to their elbows and pages of something spread out in front of them. They’re mid-conversation when I interrupt whatever it is they’re talking about. They look at me, Casso grinning, and Nico with a mild glare.
“Speak of the devil.” Casso sips his whiskey and quickly shoves the papers into a folder—they’re black and white photographs. The kind a private detective would take. “Can’t sleep?”
I shake my head, trying my best not to look at Nico. “I was going to watch a movie. I didn’t realize you guys were here.”
“Don’t worry about it, we were done anyway. I should get some sleep since I’ve got shit to do tomorrow. Nico, you staying?”
“Going to finish this drink.” Nico looks away from me and hunches forward over the bar.
“Get to it then.” Casso slaps his back and quickly leaves.
And just like that, I’m alone with him.
With Nico. The one person I want to avoid more than anything. “I should leave too then.” I head toward the door.
“Wait.”
I hesitate. I don’t know why. I want to run away and hide in my room, but I remember that charcoal sketch I did of him and his voice pins me to the spot.
“Come have a drink with me.”
I turn slowly. “You sure you want that?”
He shrugs. “It’ll help you get some sleep.”
“Oh, good, encourage me to drink my pain away.”
“I don’t really give a shit what you do, princess. I’m only trying to help.”
“That’s right, you’re always so helpful.” But instead of storming out, I walk over and make myself a gin and tonic before sitting in the stool next to him. Nico’s a big, hulking presence and he glances at me as he sips from his glass.