Total pages in book: 12
Estimated words: 11151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 56(@200wpm)___ 45(@250wpm)___ 37(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 11151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 56(@200wpm)___ 45(@250wpm)___ 37(@300wpm)
“Where the fuck am I?” I demand, to no one in particular. “It smells like sweat and ass in here. Don’t you goons shower? Like ever?” No one says anything to me, though I can tell one of them is pissed.
“Answer her, old man,” the pissed off one says to Marco. “You’re the only one allowed to talk to her.”
“We are in South Bronx. A row house.” Only fifteen or so miles home. I’d never make that on foot, but hopefully, there’s a subway station nearby.
“Who leaves drugs out like this?” I ask, just to piss them off even more, though my family is in the cocaine business, I’ve never seen so much of it out like this, unless there was a party going on.
“These animals,” Marco says smiling.
“Watch it, Marco. You might be a hundred but I’ll drop you where you stand,” Pissed off says.
“Fuck off, Tommy. Just telling her the truth.”
“Marco, I’d like to get cleaned up before Junior gets here. Where can I do that?”
“I’m glad you are coming around. Just over there,” he says, leading me down the hall. He opens the door and checks it first before stepping aside to allow me inside.
He gives me some privacy, but not much. There’s no window in the bathroom, but there is a gun on the counter. Surely, he saw it when he was in here… Picking it up, I thank God my father taught me how to handle guns. It’s a Beretta. I check the ammo and find one in the chamber and a full cartridge. Quickly, I take care of my business and tuck the gun into the ragged waistband of the sweatpants Marco gave me when we got here. I wash my hands before opening the door. Marco winks at me and I know I am taking him with me when I go. I can’t leave him here with these jackals. We walk back into the living room and I reach for the gun. I shoot the pissed off asshole in the leg and brandish the gun around the room.
“I’m walking out of here or I am killing every last one of you before I go,” I say moving toward the door.
“You’ll have to kill us then because what Junior will do to us, will be so much worse,” Marco says behind me.
“Fine,” I say shrugging.
“Fuck that. Just go, bitch.” The pissed-off guy seethes while putting pressure on his leg wound. I don’t need to be told twice. I grab Marco’s hand and drag him with me.
“I’m taking him with me,” I say as the guards by the door move out of the way. No one stops us as we walk out the front door and down the steps. “Subway?”
“A couple of blocks over. Why am I with you?”
“You don’t belong with the Santucci’s, Marco. The Manero’s will take better care of you.”
“My family?”
“Them too,” I say as we walk toward the subway.
All in all, not a bad kidnapping. I freed myself and no one had to die, but even I know this isn't over yet, but I’m not going to spend the rest of my days looking over my shoulder.
Besides, I am pretty sure I am very late for my own wedding. The wedding I want more than anything. The time that has passed has done nothing but solidify my feelings for the man I met briefly in Paris. It seems like a lifetime ago now, but I can only hope that he hasn’t forgotten about me.
Chapter Five
Fabrizio
It’s been a month and I haven’t seen hide nor hair from her, nor did the Santucci’s respond to the ransom payment. Oh, those dicks took it, but did not return her. I pray every day that I find her. I’ve searched every fucking commercial building in the Bronx and I am about to start searching residences. I am at the end of my tether. My patience is long gone and I just as I am about to head out to search today, the phone rings. My father answers the phone and immediately starts shouting. I can only hear one side of the conversation, but it isn’t making much sense.
“Fuck off,” he says hanging off.
“Who was that?” I ask.
“Santucci. Your girl shot his right-hand man in the leg and escaped with an old man.”
“An old man?” I ask, confused. “When was this?”
“About twenty minutes ago.”
Without another word, I grab my keys and head out to find her. I make the assumption that she’s headed home, but when I reach the end of our driveway, I find her walking up it with an old man. Stopping the car, I get out and meet her. Without a word, I kiss her like I wanted to do in France. Her lips yield to mine and I growl, deepening the kiss. A month of frustration and panic is behind this kiss and it shows in my intensity. Kissing her is everything I thought it’d be and more. Fuck, I should have taken her all those months ago just to keep her safe.