Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Tears pressed against my eyes.
The man looked pleading. “Help me please.” He sucked in a rattling breath. “Kill me.”
I froze, eyes widening.
His face tipped toward the knives that Nevio had dropped on the floor.
“Stab me,” he pleaded.
My brows furrowed as I hopped down and reached for the knife closer to me with a trembling hand. I curled my fingers around the bloody handle. The blade was coated with the man’s blood from the endless cuts Nevio had inflicted on him. I avoided looking too closely at the man’s body. I could not bear the proof of my family’s monstrosity. I stared at the sheer fabric of my tutu that was slowly turning red with the blood around me.
“Fast. Before they return,” the man rasped.
I looked up at his begging face, or what was left of it.
Tears streamed down my cheeks.
“Show mercy, girl, and kill me.”
How could killing someone be mercy?
I’d sworn to never hurt a living creature, didn’t eat meat, dairy or eggs, and here this man was asking me to end his life.
My fingers around the knife handle tightened but I could not move. Despite my revulsion, I reached out with my other hand and touched the man’s shoulder very gently. I never touched people I didn’t know. But this man needed comfort and so I had to get over my anxiety. “I can’t.” The words were broken. I moved my hand back again.
The man tried to roll over, closer to me but the cuffs held him in place. He groaned and lay back on his back.
“Then give me the knife. Don’t let me suffer.”
“I can talk to my father. He’ll spare you.”
The man cackled, and blood spilled out of his mouth. “Your father and his brothers do this every day. They torture people for business and for fun. They know no mercy.”
I’d feared it was like that after what I’d heard earlier. My heart beat faster and faster, and the pounding in my temples was close to unbearable by now. A distant whistling sound rang in my ears. I needed quiet. I needed dark. I needed sweet oblivion.
The man’s eye widened because of something at my back, and he began to shake, then cry.
“Greta,” Nino said in a careful voice.
I didn’t turn to him, only looked at the sheer terror in the man’s face, at his desperate crying. I’d never felt terror like his. Terror because of the men I loved with all my heart.
“Come down immediately,” Nino said. Then he appeared beside me. “You move an inch toward her and you’ll regret it,” he said in a very different tone, one he’d never used on me and wasn’t now. The man closed his eyes, his shoulders shaking with sobs. My own tears intensified seeing his anguish.
“Give me the knife, Greta.”
I tightened my hold, not taking my eyes off the man.
Nino reached for my hand with the knife but I shoved away from him, whirled around and backed up against the wall. I breathed harshly.
Nino’s brows furrowed. He raised his hands, palms facing my way. “I’m not going to hurt you. You know that. Give me the knife and come upstairs.” He took a step closer and I brought the blade up so it pressed against the spot beneath my ribs. I’d watched enough fight training to know this was where you aimed when you wanted to kill and I always listened when Nino explained anatomy.
Nino regarded the knife then nodded slowly. “All right.”
“What the fuck is it now?” Dad muttered, stepping in and freezing when he spotted me. The harshness slipped off his face, and his expression became one I couldn’t understand. Too many emotions flashed across his features.
More tears streamed down my face, shaking my body with their force.
Dad glanced at Nino, then at the knife in my fists, aiming at the soft spot beneath my ribs.
“What are you doing, mia cara?” His voice was gentle, like a caress. It was comfort and love. It was everything I loved.
He moved closer but I pressed the knife harder against my chest and he stopped. “What have you seen?”
I searched his eyes, and swallowed. Everything. Too much. I couldn’t say anything but he must have seen it in my eyes. Dad was good at reading others.
He looked at Nino once more, then at the man on the ground. “He deserved it, you know?”
I sobbed, shaking my head. I didn’t want to hear another word. I just wanted out, away. I wanted darkness and quiet. But I couldn’t leave now, not before I’d done what needed to be done.
Even though every word felt like shrapnel in my throat, I croaked, “Don’t hurt him anymore.”
“Why don’t you come upstairs?” Dad said, holding out his hand. He exchanged another glance with Nino, who shifted his weight. Maybe they thought I didn’t notice, but I did. I noticed everything, every little detail no matter how inconsequential. That was the problem, and now my salvation.