Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 202(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 202(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
I gave her a fake smile, which I’m sure she recognized. “I think I’ll be fine. But if I need you, I’ll make an appointment.”
As I got up and walked out of my forced therapy session, I sighed with relief. I had never been so fake and not transparent in my life. What was I going to talk about? Tell the therapist that I had been locked in a cage and treated like a kitten?
No.
I hadn’t told a soul about that, and would take that secret to my grave.
And I think my therapist wanted me to talk about my fear and hatred toward Eddie Vasco, when in fact, I didn’t have either emotion. Could I have been honest with her and told her that I felt... sad, empty, and wondering if I would ever see him again? My therapist would have had me committed, or at the very least reported back that I was unfit to work. Maybe she would have said Stockholm syndrome or PTSD. There was no way this woman would understand what I was really going through.
I didn’t even know what I was going through.
She had asked me if I had felt fit to return to work. I of course lied and told her that I did, when the truth was that I didn’t want to go back. I hated it there. There were shady, awful, corrupt people all around me, but I didn’t know who I could trust. I had told the investigators what Eddie had told me about Dylan and his connection to Moretti. They didn’t believe a word of it considering the source, and Dylan of course called the accusations absurd.
But I knew. I believed every word of Eddie’s.
Dylan knew I knew as well because he hadn’t reached out to me once since. He had been my friend and normally we would have both been by each other’s side during our recovery from this ordeal.
He had been my friend. Had.
Although there was still a part of me that felt bad for Dylan. If what Eddie said was true about Moretti noticing that he’d been beaten and what that meant...
Dylan wouldn’t be my problem for long.
I walked into my apartment and felt an even deeper loss. Every single picture of Eddie Vasco had been removed by the detectives to help aid them in their hunt for the infamous man and his crew. I didn’t know how I was supposed to just return back to my life and act like nothing had happened. But a full month had gone by, and I could still feel Eddie’s touch. I could still smell him. I could still hear his deep and warning voice.
They had no idea where Eddie was, and my guess was they would never find him again. He was far too powerful and intelligent to be caught and put in a cage.
I couldn’t get Eddie out of my mind. And the weekly letters didn’t help. Secret letters meant only for my eyes and left for me on my kitchen counter. I was under protection and had a cop on guard, and yet somehow, every week, there was a letter waiting for me.
My pet,
You’ve never left my thoughts.
~Eddie
My pet,
Rest easy. You are safe. I’m making sure.
~Eddie
My pet,
I miss you.
~Eddie
And today, I walked into my kitchen expecting and seeing another weekly letter.
My pet,
I want you to meet me. There will be a black Escalade waiting for you in front of Vinnie’s Diner in Brooklyn tonight at 9 p.m.
~Eddie
My heart stopped and my hands shook. I read the letter again and again.
Eddie wanted to meet.
Eddie wanted to see me.
I would finally get to see Eddie again, and my heart began to beat once more but with vigor. I couldn’t help but smile and feel like a giddy schoolgirl. It had been four weeks and two days since I’d last seen Eddie. But that would all change tonight.
* * *
Eddie Vasco
Tommy had warned me it was a risk. I knew it, but I couldn’t just walk away from her. Not without knowing if what I was feeling was at all what she was. She was a pull I couldn’t resist, and Nayla alone was my only reason for remaining in New York. I needed to get the hell out of here while the heat was on, but I couldn’t leave her. Not without knowing, without seeing, and without hearing her voice tell me to go. Hell, I knew I was taking a chance she wouldn’t meet me at all, or even bring along the police if she did, but I still had to do it.
We had paid off enough cops to know that the meeting could happen safely... unless Nayla planned otherwise, but my gut told me she wouldn’t. But I was still nervous as fuck as I paced the room back and forth waiting... waiting.