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)
Dad got up. “I’ll talk to her.” At the door he paused. “Maybe you should go back home.”
“Where is that?” I asked with a bitter smile.
“I want to go home, Nevio,” I whispered, shivering, rubbing my arms.
I usually loved Vegas by night, but this part of town had a starved, greedy feel to it that made my pulse speed up.
Nevio sank down in front of me, dark brows pulling together.
“Now?”
“Now,” I whimpered. I should have never asked them to take me with them, even if Nevio had promised that they were only looking for a caravan to buy tonight. I hadn’t dared ask him why they needed the caravan. I’d learned to keep my questions limited when it came to my brother’s nightly activities. Some things were better left unsaid, like what happened the night he kidnapped two women and Amo saved me from the floods. My stomach clenched. Nevio had carried me back to the car that night, cradling me against his chest like a child. He hadn’t spared a single look at Amo as he did.
Massimo gave Nevio a sign from his position on top of the fence surrounding the scrapyard.
“Just one more stop, all right? They don’t have what I’m looking for here.” Nevio searched my eyes. “You’ll get over him.”
“I know.”
Nevio stood and held out his hand, which I took and let him pull me to my feet. “Come on. All that matters is our family, Greta, and we’ll always be by your side.”
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to talk about Amo with Nevio. I hadn’t talked about him to anyone. It hurt enough that I saw his face in my dreams every night.
Nevio pulled me away from the scrapyard as Massimo jumped down from the fence and Alessio got back behind the steering wheel.
Nevio wrapped his arm around my shoulders as we settled on the backseat.
“Where are we going?” Alessio asked from the front seat.
“Let’s go to Ivanov’s. When I drove past there last time, I saw a Campervan I liked.”
One corner of Nevio’s mouth pulled up in a way that meant trouble. Usually I would have tried to be the voice of reason but today I felt like chaos myself. I wanted to be consumed by Nevio’s frenzy until it blasted away everything that ached inside of me. “If your Dad finds out Greta is here with us, he’ll skin us alive.”
“He knows we can protect Greta.”
Massimo shook his head but neither he nor Alessio tried to talk Nevio out of it.
We eventually arrived in an even shadier part of the city, on the outskirts, at a car dealership which looked as if it mainly dealt with other things.
Alessio parked in front of the rundown building.
The men who sat on chairs in front of the illuminated garage spoke in a Slavic language I didn’t know. It wasn’t Russian because I had decent knowledge of it. Maybe Bulgarian or Albanian.
They all got up when we approached them, exchanging looks and condescending smiles.
“They don’t know who we are?” Alessio said with a hint of excitement.
“Seems they don’t have a clue,” Nevio said with a grin.
“You got lost,” one of the men said with a heavy accent.
“We want that caravan,” Massimo said, pointing at an old caravan over to the side.
“Not for sale.”
The biggest man came closer, checking me out. He sneered at Nevio. “She yours?”
“She’s ours,” Massimo said, giving Nevio a wary look.
The men snickered. “Then she won’t mind filling her holes with a few more dicks.”
“Can you go over to the Caravan and see if it’s what you want,” Nevio said to me, but he was only looking at the man.
“We don’t want trouble,” I said, giving Nevio a pleading look. The look in his eyes reminded me of the night of our twelfth birthday.
Nevio gently pushed me away. I took a few steps back.
The Slavic men still didn’t understand the severity of their situation. “Just sell the caravan to us,” I said.
“Let me fuck your ass, then we can talk money.”
The man opened his arms invitingly.
Nevio grabbed one of his wrists and tossed the man down so he braced himself on his hands then he smashed his foot down on the man’s elbow. I backed away as screams filled the night. Blades flashed, laughter sounded, bones broke, and then silence fell over us.
Nevio sheathed his knife and stalked toward me, turning me away from the bloody scene and steering me toward the caravan. I glanced back and caught Massimo throwing money on the ground beside the bodies. Then he and Alessio jogged after us.
The caravan smelled of weed and cold smoke and the chassis squeaked every time we moved.
“We should burn the bodies,” Alessio said, taking out his favorite lighter.
“Let them rot in the sun tomorrow. I heard there are a few shady characters in this area that have been doing unregistered business. This’ll send them a nice message.”