Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
She never even had a funeral. Her murder had to be a secret. She was cremated and delivered to the house in a little box. Until now, I didn’t understand that funerals are for the survivors, not for the people who died. I didn’t get to say goodbye. I blink-squeeze my eyes closed and will back the forming tears away. And Bianca wants to know when I'm coming back? It would be better if I didn't. I don't know if I could stand to lose anything else, all because my father is an arms dealer with layers and layers of blood on his hands. I'm sure he never imagined blood splashing back on me the way it did.
I must drift off for a while because a sharp right turn startles me awake. A look at the clock on the dash tells me an hour has passed, and as I peer around at my surroundings, I discover we’re no longer on the interstate. I can’t say I’m impressed with what I see around me now: tiny homes sitting behind chain link fences, scrubby front lawns covered in kids’ toys, and rusted swing sets. Looming in the distance is what looks like a factory or a steel mill, something industrial like that. The morning has gone cloudy, adding to the gloomy sense of foreboding that plagues me.
“When I said I wanted to get away, I was thinking of something a little… less like an episode of Dateline,” I murmur, noticing a pair of scrawny kids smoking on the corner. Their shifty eyes make me nervous. Where the hell did he bring me?
“Sorry, Princess.” We turn onto a narrow street where the houses look at least slightly nicer. Not bigger, but better cared for. The siding is clean, and the windows are intact. “If you think what you’re seeing now is bad, you would’ve lost your mind if you saw this place years ago.”
I turn in my seat, staring intently at him. “Wait… you’re familiar with this neighborhood?”
“Sure am—or rather, I was.”
Holy hell. “Okay, where are we, exactly?”
“Just across the state line.”
He pulls the SUV into a shallow driveway beside a neat-looking two-story house that’s in better condition than anything I’ve seen thus far on the block. The light blue siding is newly updated, and the windows are clean. There’s not so much as a single weed coming up from the sidewalk, and the front porch is free of the leaves that have started to fall now that autumn is here. From where we’re seated, I can make out what appears to be a small garage ahead of us.
I mean, this isn’t what I had in mind when we discussed my leaving, although it could be worse. Now, the only thing I can think about is the million and one questions rushing through my brain.
“What is this place?” I pause. “Is this another safe house? Who does it belong to? Does Dad know about it?” I don’t mean to bombard him with all the questions, but I need to know an answer, at least something.
At first, he only sits in silence, staring straight ahead. I can’t read his expression—is he pissed, frustrated, or just full of dread? It might be a mix of all three and then some. Knowing him, he’s probably regretting he ever agreed to do this.
All his silence does is intensify my curiosity. “Can’t you tell me anything? You expect me to live here, but I’m not allowed to know what made you choose this place?”
He releases a long sigh before speaking—and when he does, I can barely make out his words thanks to how he’s clenching his jaw. “I chose this place because it’s mine. I grew up here; it belongs to me.”
CHAPTER 3
ROMERO
I haven’t even gotten out of the car yet, and already I know bringing her here was a bad idea.
Here come the questions.
“Your house? You own this place?” Her head swings back and forth as she takes in everything around us for the first time. She doesn’t have to say a word—I can hear her thoughts ringing loud and clear. She’s spent her entire life living like royalty, with household staff to take care of her needs and an entire wing of the mansion to herself for the better part of the ten years since I came to live with them. This place is dirt compared to where she comes from. This entire house could fit in that wing. More than once.
She’s been through some awful shit recently, but that doesn’t erase the fact that she’s lived her entire life on easy mode. While I have no problem giving her a dose of reality and have wished countless times for the opportunity, she's already giving me a headache with all the questions.
Confusion is evident in her face, while her green eyes narrow. “I don't understand. Have you been visiting all this time or something? I mean, it looks... nice.”