Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 95833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
My father’s hands around her neck.
The thought is like a gunshot in my brain, like a gong going off, like a train whistle in a quiet black tunnel.
Her neck.
It hits me so hard I retch and nearly throw up. The memory is physically painful, but it’s right there. Nico’s hands around Papa’s throat and Papa’s hands around her throat.
Who is she? I can’t see her face. Not yet anyway. It’s coming into focus—too slowly. A deep, horrible yearning comes over me. I miss her so badly it hurts my chest and I’m breathing fast, too fast.
I want her to turn around and smile at me. I want to feel her rub my back while I’m lying in bed and hear her read me a story again. I want her to tickle me, and to laugh with me, and to tell me how proud she is and how much she loves me and my older brothers. I want her to twirl her hair like I do, to stand in the kitchen and cook, to read a book out by the pool, to teach me how to sew and how to read and how to love, to kiss my forehead and talk to me in Italian. I want her warmth when I can’t sleep and she lets me snuggle up in bed beside her when Papa’s not home. I want her wild whoops of delight as she chases me and my brothers out back through the lawn and the trees, as she throws me into the air, as she rolls in the grass—her happiness, her light, her everything.
I want her and miss her so bad it’s like my stomach is tangled up and my intestines are tied into loops and loops and knots.
Lights, bright and coming closer. I look over and blink into them—
And I remember.
I remember it all.
I remember everything. It hits me so hard I scream as the roar of a van’s engine gets closer and closer. I scream and scream until my throat is raw and the black van pulls over beside me, idling with a low rumble. It’s my brothers or it’s Nico, I don’t know. The smell of gasoline and dirt fills my nostrils as I sob into my hands, my tears making the charcoal dust run black along my skin.
The door to the van opens and a man gets out.
“There you are, Karah.” He crouches next to me and puts a hand on my back. I cry harder, choking, gasping, sobbing, spit and tears and snot. “It’s okay, it’s okay, there, there. I’d cry and try to run if I were you too. It must be a nightmare being forced to marry Nico.” He chuckles gently and wraps his arms around me. I want to puke. “Come on now, Karah. Let’s go. I’ll keep you safe.”
He pulls me to my feet and through the haze of my tear-streaked vision, Rinaldo’s face leers at me.
“No,” I say and try to push him away but his grip is iron. He throws me into the back of the van and I collapse onto the hard, cold metal floor as he slams the door shut, locking me inside.
He gets behind the wheel and looks back with a charming grin.
“Safe now,” he says.
I curl into a tight ball and cry so hard my chest heaves.
Momma.
Papa’s hand wrapped around Momma’s throat.
Strangling her to death.
The memory’s like a burning film reel in my skull. Chemical bright and acrid in my nose.
Papa strangling Momma. His strong hands wrapped around her thin throat, her eyes jutting out, her hands scrambling at his face and clawing at his cheeks, trying hard to make him stop, his grunt of effort.
Momma going still.
Momma dead.
I think Papa killed her.
Rinaldo drives.
Chapter 31
Karah
The van bumps and rattles and pulls to a stop in front of a quiet, dark hotel. The sun’s rising over the western hills and it jolts me from my half-sleep—I hadn’t realized it was so late. I guess so early now, depending on whether I’m a glass half full or glass half empty kind of girl—and right now, I’m in a glass shattered and stomped into dust kind of mood.
Rinaldo climbs from the front, comes around, and opens the back doors.
He’s smiling at me. He looks like he wants to give me a big hug and a kiss except I remember the feeling of his erection against my spine as he tried to force himself on me in the shadows of that diner and I know he’ll do worse now if I let him. I coil myself up and dive forward, my fingers curled into claws, intent on slashing out his eyes and ripping him to shreds—
He laughs as he grabs my wrists and slams me down. I grunt and groan as pain flares all over my body like a million little bruises all blossoming at once.