Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
She rises and hits the switch in the wall again, then turns to me with a sour look on her already-dour face. “I need backup.”
“What are you—”
“Mateo Milani, you’re under arrest for suspicion of murder.” She pulls a pair of cuffs from the back of her belt and goes into her Miranda spiel.
I look at Sonny.
“—cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you—”
He shakes his head, advising me not to speak. Red rattles the chain running through his cuffs, but Sonny holds up a finger to silence him, too. Two agents enter the room, both of them young and eager. They eye me like I’m some sort of venomous snake, which as far as they’re concerned, I am.
“—understand your rights as I’ve recited them to you?” Agent Hawk finally takes a breath.
“I understand perfectly well what you’ve just done, Agent Hawk. The problem is, I don’t think you do.”
Red huffs a laugh, and the agents lead me to a waiting SUV as Sonny gives Agent Hawk an earful.
As they shut me in the back of the car, I find my thoughts wandering to my new bride.
Looks like it’ll take a little while longer for me to get home to her. That’s too bad, because I’m ready to finish what we started. And I will. But first, I have to show Agent Hawk just how big of a mistake she’s made.
17
LUCRETIA
“Arrested?” Lito’s face begins to turn a bright shade of red. “Like, you mean arrested arrested?”
I rub my aching forehead. The margaritas were definitely not virgin.
“How can I just ‘sit tight’ if he’s in federal—”
“Yeah … Yeah, Sonny, I know but—Yeah. Okay.” He sighs. “I will. Just let me know when you—” He pulls the phone away from his ear. “That dick hung up on me.”
“Arrested for what?”
“Murder.”
I don’t think my eyes can go any wider. “He killed a federal agent?”
“No.” Lito pauses. “At least I don’t think so. Sonny made it seem like it was a bullshit hold, that they’re trying to pressure Mateo.” He makes a pfft sound. “They clearly don’t know what they’re doing. If they did, they’d know that you can’t pressure Mateo into doing anything. If you push him, he only pushes back harder.”
“I’ve noticed.” I smooth the dark blue blanket under my hands. “But I guess this means you’ll be babysitting me for a little while longer.”
“Babysitting? No. Binge-watching Netflix shows? Yes.” He rolls out of bed and stretches.
“You don’t seem worried.”
“I’m not. Are you?”
“I don’t know.” It’s an honest answer.
“Hmm.” He walks into the bathroom and closes the door.
I lay back in bed, my mind turning over this new bit of information. If Mateo is detained, then maybe I actually have a chance of escape. And what if he can’t beat the charges? Could this mean I’ll be free? I shake that thought away. No one in our world ever goes down for anything serious, and certainly not for murder. I can’t say for certain, but I’m pretty sure the men Mateo killed at the wedding will never be found, not by authorities, anyway. The families tend to have private cemeteries, and they bury their dead without a word—if there’s even a body to bury in the first place. It’s cruel, but the mafia has its own rules, its own customs, and its own method of resolving disputes.
If all that holds true, then Mateo will return. It’s just a matter of when. This tiny window may be my only shot at getting out of this situation.
Lito strides from the bathroom. “Come on. Let’s get breakfast and then pick some shows. Nothing superhero, though. I’m feeling more angst, you know? Like, I could maybe even cry a little. But just a little. Not like that time I saw ‘My Girl’ or hell, that old movie ‘Terms of Endearment.’ Holy shit, what was wrong with people back then to make such sad movies?” His voice trails away down the hall. “Come on. Pancake time, bitch!”
“I can’t take another show.” I flop onto the couch in the movie room. “It’s been three days of shows.”
“We don’t have many options. Can’t go clubbing. Besides, it’s raining.” As if to punctuate his words, thunder rumbles through the house.
“What about ‘Sister Wives’?” He flips through the apps.
“I hate that husband guy. I can’t stand to listen to him talk.”
“I hate him too.” He frowns. “He’s so weak.”
“He really is. I don’t know how he got one wife, much less four.” I put my arm behind my head as a pillow.
“What about some scary stuff? Halloween is coming up soon.”
I wrinkle my nose. “I’m not into the blood and gore.”
“Triggered?” he asks.
“Maybe a little.”
“Was it that bad at the wedding?” He huffs. “I wasn’t even invited. I should’ve been best man. I’m his brother.”
“You should thank the Virgin Mary that you weren’t there. It was gruesome. I can’t—I can’t even describe it. I felt so bad for Sarita.”