Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
As I sat in the back of the police car I thought he must have broken a couple of ribs but I could barely feel it. I looked out of the window and watched as we drove past the familiar residential buildings that would take me to my apartment.
It all still seemed the same, and yet everything had changed.
I couldn’t shake off the image of my father lying on the floor. His blood had seeped out and pooled around him in a deep red puddle. It seemed unreal. Like watching a movie.
But the shocking thing was how peaceful his face looked, almost as if he was sleeping. I shuddered. It was madness. He was such a kind and caring person that they couldn’t take the beauty out of him even by killing him in such a gruesome way.
My lips parted to speak. I wanted to tell the cops to take me back to the house because I suddenly felt he wasn’t dead. I’d made a mistake … he was fine. Either that or this was a dream. I pinched myself and felt the sting. But I couldn’t get myself to speak.
My inability to speak continued at the station. A lot of the details escaped me as I made my report as I was unable to speak more than a few disjointed sentences at the time.
I hadn’t even been able to give a coherent response to the cops as to how I’d been able to briefly get the gunman off me. I had bitten the back of his ankle. I bit down so hard that he cried out and nearly crushed my head under the force of his boot in anger. I didn’t blame him. I had put all my horror and terror into it so it was sure to have hurt. I could still taste his blood in my mouth. My only lifelong regret was that I had not reached the gun and killed him myself.
And then there were the men that had come much too late. At that time I did not feel grateful to them, only panic. My perception of their sudden appearance was of more attackers arriving to make sure I definitely didn’t make it either. But then they shot my attacker who quickly catapulted through the window and escaped. They went in pursuit of him and I rushed to my father.
Everything else ceased to exist.
On my way back to my apartment I leaned my head against the window of the car and shut my eyes, but snapped them open again immediately. It would be impossible, I felt, for me to ever shut my eyes again because when I did, all I could see was my father lying in the red pool of his own blood.
The cops led me into the elevator and all the way up to my floor. At my door I became suddenly aware of the fact my purse with my keys was at my father’s house and my roommate, Antoine, would not be home. Even if he was, he would definitely be asleep, and no one would be able to wake him up.
I turned around, ready to leave and refusing to say another word to the cops. All the strength had left me making it a miracle I was even standing. One of them stopped me gently with a slight touch on my shoulder. My gaze went to it and then to his kind eyes that eerily reminded me of my father’s. I pushed his hand away and frowned. I wanted to howl at him not to touch me. I wanted it to sting because they had come too late. Much too late. They should have been faster and I hated them for it.
Which made me wonder about the men that had come to my rescue earlier. They’d been Dante’s men and had arrived in minutes. But why had they been so close to our home? Had they been watching us? My dad’s nervousness from earlier was beginning to make perfect sense to me.
There seemed to be too many moving pieces. Too many parts I had no clue about and had no idea how I could even begin to decipher them. Perhaps my father had been aware of them and perhaps this was why he hadn’t seemed very concerned from the start. I wished I could ask him. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t ever be able to.
Suddenly I heard my name. I stopped in my tracks. The voice was familiar … extremely familiar and in a way, it felt almost warm. It was the first human response my heart had since the beginning of this nightmare and I couldn’t help but respond to it.
I turned around and saw my roommate standing at the open door.
“Zola?” he said, confused. He was in his robe and looking at the uniformed police officers and detectives like he was seeing ghosts.