Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
She grabs a broom and starts sweeping.
“Why?”
“Oh, I threw the regular plates at him whenever I got angry… which was all the time. And glass don’t bounce, sweetheart. Go, I’ll clean this up. You have a big night tonight.” She gives me a wink. “I heard you’ve got a little something something to look after?”
One thing about this family—nothing goes unnoticed.
“I do.”
“Go, tend to the pup and I’ll see you later.”
“I can clean this up,” I tell her, riddled with guilt.
“Go.” She smacks at me playfully with the broom.
As I go check on Daisy, I listen to the sound of his voice.
How will I be able to stop myself from falling for Sergio?
My only choice is to leave, but if I do, I’ll lose the best opportunity I have to earn money, and I need that money to save my sister.
I shake my head.
No. No. I have to force myself to stay detached and hold myself apart. I can’t let myself fall. Not even for a moment.
When he looks at me with those brooding eyes… when he talks to me in that husky voice… when he’s kind… I don’t know if I could stop myself if I wanted to.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sergio
“Dude.”
I adjust myself and try to ignore the fact that I’ve got a fucking hard-on. I haven’t been this out of control of myself since I was a teen, and a brisk gust of fucking air would get me hard.
“What?”
Mario’s eyes go wide. “Hey, hey, chill the fuck out, cuz. I was just gonna ask if you’re ready to take this for a spin?” He pats the hood of his brand-new McLaren in canary yellow we picked up earlier, a splash of brightness in the shaded lot.
“Yeah, I’m so fucking ready,” I mutter.
I climb into the passenger seat while Mario slides into the driver’s seat.
“Give me all the specs,” I grunt. I need a distraction.
“God, man, it handles like a fucking dream. You know it’s built to handle perfectly, because of this goddamn suspension system. Zero to a hundred in seconds. All I need to do is think about braking and it cruises to a stop like a dream. And tell me about that seat, eh? Comfy? Bet your ass hasn’t been cushioned like that since—”
“Finish that sentence, we’ll find out exactly how this fuckin’ ride handles.”
He chuckles.
Our love of fast and beautiful cars was what joined the two of us together to begin with. Mario’s a car aficionado like no other, and he’s taken me along for the ride.
Mario knows all the side streets so we leave the city in record time and hit the highway.
“Now,” he says, as we pick up speed on the highway heading north. The Rossi family home is north of Boston in Gloucester, their headquarters located at The Castle. Though they each have residences outside of The Castle as well, their ties are close to home.
“Now,” Mario repeats as we hit our stride. “I need to tell you more about Eden.”
I sit up straighter and shoot him a look.
“What about her?” I haven’t let on a thing.
He holds up both hands, which isn’t too smart because he’s essentially driving a fucking race car.
“Hands on the wheel! Jesus.”
With a chuckle, he grabs the wheel again. “You know I’m good at research.”
“Yeah. Has nothing to do with the fact that you’re married to a private detective but do go on.”
Never one to be deterred, Mario grins at me. “Okay then. You know Gloria’s got us access to all sorts of shit.”
“Yup.”
Mario clears his throat. “Our research has led us to North Carolina. There’s some talk that there’s a cult there called the fellowship, and the women are just like her.”
A cult.
A cult?
“What? That shit still happens?”
“God, dude, all the time. This group, they preach modesty and detachment from worldly possessions. They arrange marriages and shit, and women are second-class citizens. You know the deal with cults—their beliefs are the only truth, they demand obedience, and they control the thoughts and behavior of every member. They’re separated from the rest of the world…”
“And why don’t people know about this? Step in?”
“Well, their whole plan is to be separate from the world. That’s why a lot of people think they’re Amish, or Quakers, or whatever the fuck.”
We pick up speed and drive faster, the wind whipping through our hair. I’ve always loved the exhilaration of fast driving, the feeling like I’m about to take flight.
“So I’ll be able to find her husband.”
“Uh, I wouldn’t advise that…”
“And why not?’ I clench my hand into a fist, the bright, sunny air and breeze forgotten in my need to seek revenge.
“Who knows who they know, brother? There’re reasons no one infiltrates a cult. The only reason the government would is if they had reason to believe that someone was being held against their will.”