Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Should I answer?
Could I play it off like I wasn’t in the lion’s den?
I ignored it, thinking back on Vitale’s threat.
Come alone or else.
Almost instantly, he called again. On the third attempt, I knew I had to answer it.
“Papá, I’m in the midd—”
“Cruz…”
One voice had the power to bring me to my knees.
Literally.
Chapter 39
—Cruz—
There were several situations in my life I knew would infinitely be a part of me. Engraved so deeply into my skin, it blended perfectly. Seamlessly drenched in my blood, becoming one with my veins. I wouldn’t know who I was without its presence inside of me now.
The day my sister was taken.
My first kill.
My baptism in mafia blood.
Those were just to name a few.
The moment I heard my sister’s voice on the other end of our father’s phone, my heart shot to my throat.
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t move.
I couldn’t fucking see straight.
A butterfly affect. Every action triggered a reaction. Once something began, there was no changing the chain of events that followed.
I didn’t want this.
I never prayed for this.
That little voice in the back of my fucking head, yelled…
“This is where you die!”
“Ari?”
She bemoaned, “You need to turn on the TV.” Her voice shook with anxiety. It sounded like she’d been balling her eyes out, but she was trying to keep it together for me.
Call it instinct, our connection, fucking foreshadowing…
She wasn’t safe.
He didn’t rescue her.
My intuition was correct when she repeated, “You need to turn on the TV,” in the same tone.
“Ari, tell me where you are.”
Silence.
My patience could only take so much, I snapped, “Jesus Christ, Ari! Tell me where you are!
“You need to turn on the tv.”
“Ari—”
“Just fucking turn on the TV, Cruz!”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, as I hurried around the room. In a rush, I frantically searched for the remote.
“It’s on the mantle.”
Coming to a complete stop, I felt her response in the core of my stomach. “You know where I am?”
“I can see you.”
My gaze flew through the living room. “Were you here, Ari? Is this where they had you?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m not there anymore. You are.”
“Enough with the cryptic bullsh—”
The brutal smacking sound across her face, shadowed by her whimpering in pain was enough to render me speechless.
“You piece of shit!” Papá seethed through the phone. “Take it out on me! Not my daughter! Me!”
I ran to the mantle and grabbed the remote, clicking the button on. “All right! All right! Enough! It’s on!” I exclaimed, unable to do anything but follow orders like a fucking dog.
In a matter of seconds, the screen went from black to a live stream. My vision tunneled, and all the blood drained from my face.
“Nooooo!” I roared in one breath, gripping onto the phone tighter in my hand. The despair in my voice recoiled off the walls which were now caving in on me.
One by one.
I surrendered to the screen.
An undeniable sense of despair settled upon my whole body. I was drowning in the misery of what was unfolding. There was nothing I could do, other than watch my biggest fear become my greatest reality.
The Devil fell on his own free will.
Bloody.
Beaten.
Our father was laying on the ground in the middle of a room I didn’t recognize.
Broken.
“Please, God, no…” I cried out with fresh tears pooling in my eyes.
As soon as the words escaped my lips, the men surrounding my father started to kick him from his head to his legs.
Kick.
After kick.
After kick.
Over.
And over.
And over again.
“Stop it! Please! Stop it!” Adriana bellowed while two other men held her back. She was in the same room with him. Witnessing the gruesome truth of our world when she was the only angel present among demons.
“Take me!” I begged while tears poured down the sides of my face. “Please take me!”
His arm’s flailed, desperately trying to block their vicious assault.
His battered frame rolled on the ground, recoiling from the ruthless and malicious beating they were handing him.
His life was being ripped away, and little-by-little, the fight in him was gone.
“You’re killing him! Please! I’m begging you! You’re fucking killing him!” I pleaded, falling apart right there with him.
My vision blurred.
My lungs burned.
My chest throbbed.
This was what Hell looked like, felt like. I was being burned alive. Everything around me began to fade away.
Including him.
“Enough!” I demanded. “He’s had enough!”
Witnessing the strongest man I’d ever known appear weak, a man I respected all my life getting the shit kicked out of him, was such a helpless fucking feeling. If I was there, I’d be defending him with my last breath if I had to. There was nothing I could do.
All I heard was my sister’s sobs, her ragged breathing, and her heart shattering like mine was. Our father didn’t make a sound. Not a single noise.
Out of nowhere, the same auto-tuned voice echoed off the screen.