Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
I didn’t say anything but Alessio kept staring at me. I’d given Amo more than just a second glance but he didn’t need to know that.
“Alessio, I won’t see him again.”
As the realization settled in the pit of my stomach that this could very well be the truth, a sense of loss overcame me, which was strange, because how could I miss something that I had never had?
“Okay, this is the third time you’re zoning out on me today. What is wrong with you?”
I focused on my best friend who stood in front of the biker hanging from chains in the ceiling of our holding cell. He was one of the few surviving supporters of the man who’d kidnapped my sister years ago. Maddox had caught him with Primo’s help yesterday and killed another. Blood was dripping down the guy’s face and chest. He’d passed out.
“Nothing.” I sheathed my knife and went over to the sink in the corner where a bucket with cold water waited for instances like this.
Maximus stepped back as I flung the water at the guy. He jerked, his eyes flying open but then they rolled back again and he sagged forward once more. As future Capo, torturing wasn’t the top of my priorities but with bikers I gladly made an exemption.
“Should I get adrenaline?”
I nodded absentmindedly but my mind was far away. Thousands of miles to the west. I could barely focus on anything else than the girl I’d left without a goodbye two weeks ago.
“Do you want me to continue without you?”
“No,” I snapped and took pliers from the table in the corner. Maximus injected the adrenaline into the man’s veins and soon he stirred.
My phone rang with a reminder. I took it out of my back pocket and glanced at the screen, then froze. It had struck midnight and my phone reminded me that it was May 15th, Greta’s birthday.
“Who’s G?” Maximus asked with a curious glint in his eyes as he stepped up beside me.
I had completely forgotten that I’d put the reminder into my phone shortly after I’d left Vegas’ two weeks ago. I wasn’t sure why the fuck I’d done it. But back then I’d just wanted to remember Greta’s birthday.
Maximus wiped his hands and leaned against the wall beside me. “That is a look I’ve never seen on your face.”
I turned to him. “What kind of look?”
Maximus grimaced, shook his head as if it was something dirty he had to say. “Never mind.”
“Spill, Maximus.”
“It’s the look my father has when he looks at my mother.”
I stared, then scoffed. But my heart sped up completely uncharacteristically. I clicked the reminder away but it stayed locked inside my brain.
Maximus continued staring as if he could x-ray information out of me.
“She’s no one.” The words rang wrong.
Maximus’ gaze didn’t waver. “So G’s a she.”
I raised my finger in warning. “Drop it, all right?”
“It can’t be Cressida. You don’t have a cutesy name for her that starts with G and it’s not her birthday. The closest thing to an endearment you’ve used for her was bitch.”
Why couldn’t he drop it? I usually shared almost everything with him, but I hadn’t mentioned my encounters with Greta with a single word. To no one.
“Have you found an affair so you can bear being married to Cressida?”
“She’s not an affair.”
The protective note in my voice was unmistakable and really piqued Maximus’ interest. “You’re in trouble.”
I was.
“It’s Greta’s birthday today.”
“Greta?” Maximus’ eyes flitted with a hint of recognition but then disbelief wiped away that look. Of course, he wouldn’t believe it.
“Greta Falcone.”
Maximus stared, waiting for the joke.
Cackling filled the cell. Both Maximus and I turned toward our captive. He gave me a toothy grin. “How sweet. The Vitiello giant got a taste of Camorra whore pussy.”
Static filled my ears as rage boiled up.
“Amo!”
I moved across the room before Maximus could react. I pulled my knife, grabbed the man’s long, greasy hair so he met my gaze and rammed the blade with such force into his abdomen that I wondered if my fist was inside his bowels. I smirked down at his agony-ridden face, wide eyes and blood-sputtering mouth. I jerked the blade upward, opening him up.
He sagged forward again but this time adrenaline wouldn’t bring him back. Stepping back, I slid the knife out. With a splash, part of his bowels dropped to the floor.
When I turned, Maximus was staring at me as if he’d never seen me before. “We were supposed to question him.”
“We did. We’ll catch another one.”
I went over to the sink and washed my hands and knife, then changed my shirt. My pants were black. Nobody would notice blood on them. “Stop staring,” I growled when Maximus still hadn’t moved. “Call someone to clean up this mess.”
“The mess you caused because you went berserk on behalf of a Falcone’s honor?”