Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Ollie continues. “If he’s standing close to you, balance your stance. The knee strike is one of the most effective ways. Aim for the center of the groin, be quick and forceful, and drive your knee upward. This is something you can do if your attacker is directly in front of you or you’re being held or grabbed. If there’s more distance, you can aim for a front kick or even pick something up and whack him with it, but make sure your aim is solid.”
“Okay, alright, I’ve got it.” I nod, my mouth dry. I have a sudden, sharp headache I know is only stress, but I still feel nauseous.
I nod, trying to absorb everything he’s telling me.
“After you hit someone’s nuts, he’ll double over. It could also make him disorientated or nauseous, but it’s a rare guy who will be able to walk for long if you strike him where it hurts.”
I nod, feeling a bit more prepared, when he reaches into the drawer again and pulls out a small, slender knife.
"Go for the exposed, soft parts of the body," he says, handing it to me. "And don’t hesitate, Renata. Women may not be as strong as a man, but that isn’t the point. I just gave you three weapons you can use against an attacker. What makes you most vulnerable is your unwillingness to use them. You have to be willing to hurt someone to save yourself. Jab, twist, do whatever the fuck you need to do. This is also useful if you’re ever restrained. Got it?"
I nod again, taking the knife and tucking it into my sleeve. I’ve dressed in form-fitting clothing, something that will allow me to move quickly if I need to. I have a feeling I will.
Ollie turns to me, his expression softening as he looks into my eyes. "I don’t know what’s going on in your head right now, but I know this—you’re a survivor. You’re fiercely determined." He pauses, his gaze steady and unwavering. "Your greatest weakness here is remembering who your brother was to you. Know this, Renata—that man no longer exists. That doesn’t matter anymore. Hold onto the memory of who he was, but don’t delude yourself about who he is now."
His voice grows husky with emotion, and it takes everything in me not to break down. "Sometimes, relationships fade, and people change. We need to remember what we had with them instead of lying to ourselves about the way things are now.”
His words cut deep because I know they’re true. I’ve been lying to myself, hoping against hope that my brother isn’t the monster I know he’s become. A part of me still hopes that Carlos loves me the way I once loved him, but Ollie is right—that’s my greatest weakness. If he shows even a hint of caring, if he apologizes, I know I might cave to him.
It’s hard to describe the bond between a brother and sister—something no one else can understand. No one knows what I went through growing up like Carlos does. No one knows the threads that wove the fabric of my being the way he does.
I could tell Ollie everything, but he’ll never understand the way Carlos would. Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood… Eventually, I’ll have to give myself space to grieve what once was—to mourn the death of the brother I grew up with.
For now, I have to survive.
I stand quietly, going over the instructions he just gave me as I watch Ollie get ready.
I wish for all of this to be over. I’m ready.
So is he.
We head downstairs as if we’re in the middle of an active shooting situation, inspecting every crevice, every corner. His guards are stationed at various places—in doorways, by windows. He doesn’t trust this situation, and neither do I. Where could Carlos be?
Or maybe we are mistaken?
Did the man Ollie killed lie to us?
I sigh. I know the truth. I know when people lie, and he spoke the truth.
Carlos is here.
Not in New York. Not in The Cove.
Carlos is in this house, and he’s here to kill me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Ollie
When we reach the dining room, we’re alone. There’s evidence that my mother and Polina have already had breakfast—my mother’s favorite coffee mug sits in the kitchen sink, and Polina’s cereal bowl is next to it, with a little milk and spoon sitting in it.
If it were up to me, nobody would be wandering around anywhere. But goddamnit, we need to force Carlos out of hiding.
In silence, I scramble eggs while Renata makes toast. She butters it liberally and slides it onto a plate next to my eggs. When she comes near me, I draw her closer. I hold her. I kiss her temple and breathe her in, and for one stolen moment, we’re at peace before we pull away.