Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 71312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“He needs a fucking ambulance. You got his carotid. Here, take off your robe. Hold it on his neck. He’s going to die otherwise.”
I don’t care. I want this man to die. He came for me. He came to take me back to my family.
That only means one thing.
They need me for dirty work.
So naïve to think I could make an escape.
I got my mom and dad to agree. I didn’t think I needed anyone else.
Now?
I’m going to end up like Michael.
Forced into a life I don’t want, and killed when I don’t do what they say.
“Jesus Fuck, Vannah, you’re bleeding.”
Am I?
I can’t feel anything except the tightness in my chest and my throat.
Falcon takes my robe, pushes it against the blond guy’s neck.
“He’ll die. You have to go inside and call 911, Vannah. Can you do that? Then you need to take care of your hand. It’s bleeding.”
I fall to the ground. Crumple. Naked and ashamed.
The terrycloth wrapped around my hand is so wet, so red.
The man’s blood…
It’s wet. Wet and red with the man’s blood.
Except it’s not all the man’s blood.
It’s my blood. The piece of glass that I still hold has ripped through the terrycloth and into my flesh.
“Please, Savannah. We can’t let him die. Do you want that on your conscience?”
His words snap into me. And I’m back in reality.
Searing pain in my palm. The blood… God, so much blood. And I’m naked. My clothes are back at the pool.
911. Where’s my phone? In the pocket of my pants, by the pool.
Or in my purse back in the house.
I don’t know.
I don’t know.
I don’t know.
“Savannah, please!”
Yes. 911. Must call 911.
I race into the house. Where would the phone be? Does he even have a landline?
He must, or he wouldn’t have sent me back in.
The kitchen. There’s always a phone in the kitchen.
There it is, sitting on the counter. I pull it off its base. My hands shake as I tap in the numbers.
Nine. One. One.
“911. What is your emergency?”
I freeze.
“Hello? Please state your emergency.”
I force my voice to work. “Two men came to the house. Guns. One of them is unconscious. The other has been stabbed.”
“Is it your house, ma’am? Are you all right?”
“Not my house. I’m bleeding.”
“Whose house is it? What’s the address?”
“I… It’s Falcon Bellamy’s house. Somewhere on the Bellamy property. I don’t know the address.”
“That’s all right, ma’am. I can see you’re calling from a landline. We will trace the call and find you with GPS. I’ll dispatch this immediately. Leave this line open.”
“All right.” The phone receiver—slimy with blood—drops from my hand.
Now what?
Now what do I do?
I fall to the floor. But tears don’t come.
This must be what shock feels like.
Part of me is numb. Except I’m cold. So cold.
And blood. So much blood.
I don’t know what to do.
I don’t know what to—
I’m naked.
I need to at least put some clothes on.
I force myself to get up, and I unwrap my right hand.
I wash my hands. There are several punctures, but they don’t look too deep, thank goodness. I force myself to walk, to open doors until I find Falcon’s bedroom.
A wrinkled T-shirt lies on the floor. I pull it over my head. Thankfully it covers my privates. But I still need something else.
I open the top drawer of his chest of drawers and find a pair of boxer briefs. I slide them on over my ass.
Then I find some socks. I ball one up in my fist and hold onto it tightly to try to stop my bleeding.
Now what?
I want to crawl into a fetal position, forget about all of this. Because this is all so familiar to me.
I’ve seen it before.
And I don’t want to go through it again.
5
FALCON
Damn it, Savannah. Where are you?
“Savannah!” I yell.
This man is bleeding like a mother fucker. “Come on, you degenerate. Clot, won’t you?”
He has two puncture wounds in his chest, which seem to be clotting up well. I have no idea if there’s any damage done. The piece of glass Vannah used wasn’t that big. It couldn’t have gone in too far.
The more important thing right now is the carotid. It’s not like I can put a tourniquet around his neck.
His pulse is faint.
I’d just as soon let the motherfucker die, but I can’t. It’s bad enough I had to cop to a murder I didn’t commit.
I can’t let this happen to Vannah.
Savannah Gallo is a sweet and wonderful woman. If she’s indeed related to the Bianchi family, she’s one of the good guys. I know it in my soul.
And I’ve learned to trust my gut.
Carlo’s eyes open but only slightly.
“You stay with me, motherfucker,” I demand.
I check the wound on his neck.
“Thank God,” I say on a sigh.
Finally, he’s starting to clot.
“If you die on me, I’ll kill you.”
The ridiculousness of my words isn’t lost on me. But damn it, I will not have this happen to Savannah.