Total pages in book: 183
Estimated words: 178343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 892(@200wpm)___ 713(@250wpm)___ 594(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 178343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 892(@200wpm)___ 713(@250wpm)___ 594(@300wpm)
Tony’s got a purple neck bruise from the chain, but he isn’t dead, so that’s something. Though he isn’t dead, I’m about ready to kill him.
The dumb fuck is on the floor in the main part of the basement near the space heater, nude and covered with the blanket that’s supposed to be on the back of the couch because I had to strip the clothes off him that were covered in Iadanza’s sewage, trying not to puke my guts up at the stench.
I’ve been ready in case Iadanza tried to come back here thinkin’ he’d catch me. But if he’s smart, he’ll dump Tony’s car and find a way to fuck off. Thankfully, Iadanza isn’t very smart.
Though right now it seems he’s way fuckin’ smarter than Tony.
***
We’re upstairs now in the living room and Doc is done looking Tony over. I send him out of the room for a minute so I can get answers. And those answers do not make me happy.
The kicker? The second person in the car.
Jessa’s now missing.
This news has me about to blow a gasket. Tony’s barely conscious efforts at explaining only makes me angrier. My head is about to fucking explode.
The other night when Alana called me because Jessa was sloppy-drunk and asking for me at the club and Tony was supposed to get rid of her? Looks like she charmed her way onto Tony’s dick and has been at his place ever since.
Tony swears, groggy as fuck – evidently consuming at least some of the pain meds, that he didn’t get my text today.
He showed up like he figured he was supposed to do and other than not knowing why he couldn’t find the pain pills in the cupboard over the fridge, said he was here to do his usual thing. I show him the text I sent and his reply to me and he can’t explain it. He’s been with Jessa for a couple days so clearly this text mystery shit is no real mystery. He’s just groggy as fuck.
“You left her alone with your phone?” I have to point out because he can’t seem to compute.
Not only has he failed at not letting the prisoner escape, but also that he brought her is beyond the pale. Amid his groggy panic about her safety, he swears he told her nothing, made out like he had a quick errand, and left her in the car. Says she wanted to spend the evening with him and doesn’t know this is my place.
Because he’s groggy as fuck, he nods off while I’m trying to question him. I lose patience and jerk an open bottle of water in his direction to keep the idiot awake.
Since the car’s gone and so is Raymond, I can only assume Jessa is still with the shit-stain fuckhead. Fitting. Really fucking fitting.
I’m beyond livid because until today, I’d have sworn Tony has solid judgement skills. Known this guy for years and he’s been unfailingly loyal. I can’t wrap my brain around the fact that he brought her here, let alone went down there distracted.
I’m now questioning my own judgement skills in giving him this job. In fucking my marriage almost irreparably. In hurting my wife. Now having her scared out of her mind. And in not shooting Iadanza between the eyes the minute the Rossis brought him here.
Tony keeps insisting he didn’t tell Jess a thing about the place, didn’t even say it was mine. Clearly, she knew. She knew because she got my text on his phone, then deleted it after responding to it, but he’s still having trouble wrapping his mind around that because of the drugs and the bump to his noggin.
Well that doesn’t fucking matter much, because now I have to phone Jagger and get him involved. And yeah, he might be able to get Iadanza found faster, which would be good, but he’s gonna be pissed and it means more people knowing about that hostage situation.
Tino Rossi arrives while I’m still reading Tony the riot act and I brief him. Doc takes Tony up to take a shower, saying he’ll be there to make sure Tony doesn’t pass out and drown himself. I set out a t-shirt and track pants which won’t fit the giant motherfucker very well, but his shit-stained clothes need to be burnt. Tino is already mobilizing his network to hunt the fucker down. Lots of ways this could go. Raymond could go north on 101 toward Washington or south to California. He could also drive back toward Portland.
After Tony settles on the couch for the night and Doc gives me guidelines to keep an eye on him with that lump on his head from hitting the concrete floor, not to mention not knowing how much of those pain meds he actually drank. Then, Doc heads out and Tony swears to me he’ll work his ass off tomorrow on Tino’s team to bring Raymond in.