Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 81044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
“That’s him. He just butted right in front of me!”
I ignored them both, double-checked the complete file had copied onto my thumb drive, and ejected it.
“I’m done,” I said, heading in the direction Gia had gone while looking for signs to the bathrooms.
But I didn’t find her at the bathrooms. Muttering a curse under my breath, I walked fast up and down the aisles looking for her. I was going to kill her. My temper grew hotter and hotter with every step I took. And then I saw her. Talking to fucking Ron behind a desk, a phone tucked between her neck and shoulder.
“Gia!”
All heads turned. Someone ‘shushed’ me and I sped toward her, walking fast without breaking into a run. I wanted to slap the phone away. I saw her talking and reached her just as she hung up.
“Donnie! There you are. Are you done? I couldn’t find you.”
“Yeah, I’m done. We’re done,” I said, grabbing her arm as she moved around the counter. “Let’s go.”
“Gia?” Ron called out.
“What the fuck was that?” I hissed through gritted teeth.
“I needed to call my mom. I knew if I asked, you wouldn’t let me, so I didn’t bother asking! She’s worried sick!”
“Did you tell her where you were?”
“I don’t even know where the house is, and no, I didn’t mention the library. She’s planning my brother’s funeral, Dominic! I know you don’t have a heart, but try, just try to be fucking human for a minute!” She wiped a tear from her face as we reached the car.
I bit my lip, wanting to shake her but feeling sorry for her and hating her—or wanting to hate her—for what she said. I mean, she was right. It’s not like I had a fucking heart. Monsters didn’t have hearts.
So why the fuck did her words sting? Why did I give a crap?
I slammed her door shut and took a minute, my fingernails digging into my palms as I got hold of my anger. I climbed into the driver’s seat and pulled the SUV out of the garage, still so fucking mad I could hardly breathe. Gia sat staring straight ahead, and I could see her eyes glisten. She was trying not to cry.
“That was a stupid thing to do.”
She didn’t answer.
“Fucking stupid, Gia.”
Nothing.
We drove in silence all the way back. Once we were back in the house, Gia slipped from my grip and ran upstairs to her room, slamming the door behind her. Fine. That was just fine. She wasn’t going anywhere; we were locked in tight. I’d deal with her later. I wanted to listen to the recordings first, and I wanted to do it without her.
After grabbing my laptop out of the duffel bag, I headed into the study and closed the door behind me. I plugged the thumb drive into the port, hit the button to play and leaned over my computer, listening.
The quality was shit, grainy as fuck. Mateo’s equipment either sucked, or he wasn’t wired right. I could make out Victor Scava’s voice, his laugh grating on me, his mood swings in the span of a few minutes giving me whiplash. The man was insane, clearly. He’d say one thing, then the exact opposite just a few minutes later.
Much of the conversation was useless, at least for my purposes. He talked about moving drugs. Moving money. I didn’t care about those things. I wanted to know about the trafficking. I wanted to hear Roman’s voice.
Mateo must have been recording for a good month. I wondered how they’d figured out he was wired. I thought of how they’d killed him. Right then, Victor laughed again. I fisted my hands.
“Sadistic motherfucker.”
How are you different?
I shut down that voice and listened, replaying a piece here or there. It was only toward the end that things got interesting.
I never did hear Roman’s voice. There was one time Victor talked on the phone with someone. Victor was pissed after that call. The conversation was about moving product. This particular product, I figured out, was living and breathing. Whoever he was talking to was tearing Victor a new one. Victor had fucked up apparently. Typical. After he hung up was when I knew who it was.
“That fucking asshole thinks he’s the boss of me! Fucking imposter. He thinks he can tell me what to do. First old man Scava and now him.”
“Take him out, boss?”
Static.
“No. Can’t do that, not yet.”
Silence. Static.
“If my pussy uncle found out—”
Static cut off the rest of the sentence. When Victor came back in, he was laughing and someone was getting hit.
“I have a much better idea. The fucker’s gonna die, but it’s not gonna be me to do it.”
A struggle, someone grunting. More punches followed, the sound of furniture breaking.
I thought of Mateo watching the beating, maybe administering it. I wondered what had gone through his head then. He had to know what would happen to him if Victor found the wire.