Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Karah rolls her eyes. “Right, sometimes I forget you’re the hard one these days, Gavino. What’s it like hanging out with guys half your age and running around the streets like you’re a low-level soldier again?”
“Please, he’s not running around anywhere,” Casso says. “He’s too busy running his restaurants.”
“I do a bit of this, a bit of that.” I shrug and accept a drink from Karah, against my better judgment. I really should get the hell out of here before—
“Maybe you could try doing more with the family instead. You know your nieces and nephews have been asking about you, right?”
Before she guilts me.
“I’m sure they’re doing just fine.” I glance away and sip the cold whiskey. It burns my belly and spreads fire into my veins. I decide to change the subject before she can beat me over the head with it and really stab that guilt in as deep as possible. “Casso, I meant to tell you. I saw that girl again.”
Casso’s eyebrows raise. “Which girl?”
“The one I caught trying to ransack Malcolm’s office.”
His eyes widen. “You didn’t tell me about that.”
I grin innocently. “I didn’t? I guess it slipped my mind.” I give him a quick rundown of what happened and both he and Karah listen, completely transfixed. “So I spot her again tonight and she’s trying to pick Benedict’s pocket. Got away with it too.”
Casso whistles. “She’s trouble.”
“She’s insane.” Karah sits on the couch against the far wall and crosses her legs. “What was she doing going through Malcolm’s stuff?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I have a couple of my guys looking into her, but so far they haven’t found anything. I think she changed her name a few years back and there’s nothing on paper before that. It’s like she erased her old life and started over new.”
“Bad sign,” Casso says, shaking his head. “Stay far away.”
“I don’t know. I’m curious.”
“Gavino,” Karah groans.
“I’m just saying, she’s interesting, that’s all. I saved her ass twice now, and think about it. If she really does dislike Malcolm as much as she seems to, she might be a useful asset.”
“You like her,” Casso says, glaring at me. “You want to fuck her.”
“Please.”
“You do,” Karah says, but hesitates. “Then again, you want to sleep with everyone, even though I find the idea extremely distressing.”
“Fair,” I say, conceding that she has a point.
“Enough,” Casso says, stubbing out his cigar. “Stay away from the girl. We don’t need her and she’s only going to make our lives harder. I know you despise Malcolm and I’m inclined to agree, but we need his money and his connections, so the deal moves forward. No fucking it up. Understood?”
“Understood,” I say, throwing back my drink and saluting. “Now, if I’m dismissed, I have work to do.”
I head to the door and slip out, but before I can close it, Karah follows me into the hall. She gives me this look, the look I hate the most in the world, full of worry and love and heaped with pity, and I grimace under the weight of it.
“I don’t need to hear it from you too,” I say softly as we walk toward the back stairs. “I’ll come around more, all right?”
“Emilio misses you. Remember when you two were close?”
“I remember.” I stare at the floor, unable to meet her eyes. “That was ten years ago.”
We lapse into silence. She knows what that means. Ten years ago: the before times and the after times. Back when I was a whole man, and now, when I’m a broken and cracked man.
“It’s going to be the eleven-year anniversary in a few months, isn’t it?” We reach the bottom of the stairs and pause in the shadows of the kitchen. It’s empty now, closed until the morning. “It’s hard to imagine Sonia’s been dead for that long.”
“Yeah, well, she has, and I still don’t want to talk about her.”
“It might help.”
“It won’t.”
“Gavino—”
“Stop it. I don’t want to do this again, okay?”
“I know you loved her,” she says as I start walking past and that draws me up short. I pull in a deep breath to calm the tremor in my hands and turn back to face my little sister. “I know you wanted to marry her.”
“Fuck her. Okay? Fuck her.”
“Stop it. Don’t act like that.”
“How do you want me to act, huh? It was a long time ago. Sonia’s dead.”
“You’re still hurting. Don’t act like you’re over it.”
I want to say, when she died, I died with her, but I can’t bring myself to speak the words. It’s too melodramatic, but as the years slip past and I’m still unable to fill the void she left in my heart, I think it might be the truth. Whatever part of me that’s capable of having a loving, meaningful relationship is gone.