Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Reaching out, I grabbed her, pulling her back onto her back, so I could lean over her, sealing my lips to hers.
It wasn’t a kiss with expectation for more.
Just long, deep, lingering.
Until we both, in unison, broke apart, knowing we needed to put an end to it unless we wanted an audience.
“Islah,” Elizabeth said, rushing toward my sister who was cuddled up on the couch, still awake, but eyes still small with pain. “How are you?” she asked, squatting down in front of the couch, reaching out to put her hand on top of my sister’s.
“I’m okay,” Islah said, weakly. “My head hurts,” she admitted.
“Well, I have a whole arsenal for that,” Elizabeth said, forcing some pep into her words as she rushed back into the guest room, finding one of her bags, and bringing it out with her. “How about we try a cooling sheet?” she asked, pulling out a box, and removing something that was packaged a bit like a bandaid, then flattening it across Islah’s forehead. “These sometimes help my migraines,” she told her.
“That feels good,” Islah said, nodding.
“And I have these nifty green sunglasses that help with light sensitivity,” Elizabeth went on, placing them on the end table since the coffee table was missing. “Earplugs. Don’t underestimate these. They can be a lifesaver,” she said, letting them join the sunglasses.
“Also, ginger and peppermints, for nausea,” she went on. “Scalp massager… probably isn’t a good idea,” she decided, sticking that back in the bag. “But, oh, this,” she said, producing something that was shaped like a sleep mask, but was big and plastic. “This is pure luxe. It massages your forehead and eyes. Just hit this button to turn off the music because that makes it worse.”
Islah took that, careful to put the strap lower so it rested under her staples, then hit the button, and let out a groan of pleasure.
With that, Elizabeth quietly walked away, walking over to the kitchen where Rico and Renzo were still standing, talking to Serano. Saff stayed close to Islah.
“Elizabeth, this is Rico and Renzo. Rico, Renz, this is Elizabeth,” I introduced them, hand going to her lower back when she shifted her feet.
“You saved two of my people tonight,” Renzo said, making the knot loosen in my stomach, some part of me worried he might blame her for the incident.
“Cinna and Islah did most of it,” Elizabeth insisted.
“Way I heard it, you’re the one to take the fucker down,” he said, not knowing her well enough to notice how she stiffened at that. “So I owe you. Which is why I’m gonna fix this fucking Russian shit for you. For good,” he added.
“I can’t ask you—“
“You’re not asking,” Renzo cut her off. “But this shit ain’t gonna happen again. We’re gonna see to it.”
At that, Renzo gave me a hard look that I interpreted to mean he wanted to speak to me.
“Do you mind getting this,” I told Elizabeth, producing my biggest pot, “filled and on the stove for the pasta? I’m just gonna talk to Renzo in the hall for a minute.”
“Of course,” Elizabeth said, nodding as she took it from me.
With that, I followed Renzo and Rico out into the hall, leaving Serano with Elizabeth.
“How can you fix this?” I asked as soon as the door was closed behind us.
“I think it’s time for a sit-down with the Bratva,” Renzo said.
“Renz,” I said, shaking my head.
“I know the risks,” he said, shrugging. “But we can’t go on worrying about what the fuck they’re going to do. Better to come to a mutual agreement than to keep trying to outmaneuver each other.”
It was probably the smart move, as a boss, to make. When you had dozens, if not hundreds—with extended families—counting on you to keep the peace. Still, I didn’t fucking like the idea of having any sort of truce with a bunch of traffickers.
“I get being conflicted. And I’m not saying we have to like it, or even hold up the truce forever. But until we know more, until our numbers grow, it’s best to come to an agreement to mind our own business.”
“They tried to kill Elizabeth several times. They almost killed Islah and Cinna.”
“And one of theirs is locked up. The other is sinking to the bottom of the East River right about now. It’s… even.”
“What are you going to offer them?” I asked, knowing there was no such thing as a truce without one side giving up something to the other.
“I’m gonna give ‘em East New York,” Renzo said, shrugging, naming off one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in Brooklyn.
It was an area where Renzo really made a name for himself early on in his criminal career. Because if you could hold the reins of a rough area like that, there was no way the other neighborhoods were gonna give you a hard time.