Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
I could kill him. But I’d prefer the guy rot in a prison cell, knowing she’s out there living her best life with his son. Someone else out there raising his son.
I pick up my cell, making up my mind and send a quick text to Luca.
Me: I need some supplies.
Luca: Whatever you need. I can meet you later on today.
APRIL
I’ve been smiling like a fool all day. I spent the entire weekend locked in my bedroom with Grave. I didn’t expect him to stay that long, but I wasn’t going to kick him out. He kissed me goodbye this morning and promised he would return tonight with dinner. I hope it’s something we can eat off one another.
I open my cell to see I have a text from him.
Grave: Still at Kingdom. Will be for a couple more hours.
I exit the cooler and walk up to the desk just as the front door opens. Odd. I thought I locked it. “I’m sorry, we’re closed,” I tell the man who enters.
He looks up at me with dark eyes, and my stomach drops when I see he has a crowbar in his hand. Three more guys enter behind him.
“May I help you?” I ask, and my voice shakes.
The last guy to enter turns and locks the door. What the hell? “Hey …”
“We’re here to see Ethan,” the guy in the front says to me.
I frown. “He’s not here.” The truth is, I haven’t seen him the past three days, but that’s not uncommon since he’s been avoiding me lately. He sent me one text on Friday that he was staying at a friend’s house for the weekend. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have allowed Grave to stay over.
“Ethan?” he calls out and goes to walk past the desk.
I step in front of him. “He’s not here …” He shoves me out of the way. “Hey!”
“Ethan?” He walks back into the office and kicks the door open.
“I’m calling the cops,” I announce and grab for my cell on the countertop, but another guy snatches it before I can get it.
“No need,” he says simply and throws it to the floor, crushing my screen. “We won’t be here long.”
Then the other guy returns and takes the crowbar, smashing it into the glass.
“Stop!” I scream and run over to him.
Someone grabs my hair and yanks me back. I cry out as my scalp burns. The first guy who entered comes to stand in front of me. He grips my face, cramming my cheeks into my teeth. My hands hit his chest, trying to shove him away. “Where is he?” he demands. His almost black eyes glare down at me. His thin lips in a flat line and his dark brows pulled together.
“I don’t know,” I growl. What has my brother done?
He lets go of me, and the guy releases my hair. I take a shaky step back from them. They turn and bust another glass door.
“Stop!” I shout.
I spot my phone on the floor, and I run over to it. A guy grabs me and throws me into a glass door. I bounce off it and land face-first on the floor. I hold my side as I groan at the impact. “How much?” I ask, trying not to cry. My worst fears have come to life. My brother is in deep trouble.
The one with the crowbar squats down next to me. He takes the claw-like end and slides it across my cheek, pushing my hair away from my face. I hold my breath, hoping he doesn’t cut me with it. The metal cold against my skin. “You can’t afford it, honey.” Then he stands and kicks me in the side.
I immediately go into the fetal position to shield my body from another blow. My breath gets caught in my lungs due to the pain, and my teeth grind.
“Tell him we’ll be back.” Then I hear more glass shatter before the door dings, notifying me of their exit. I get up onto my hands and knees, breathing heavy, and look around. Tears sting my eyes as I look over what is left of my mother’s flower shop. Even my vases that were on the shelf are now broken on the floor next to me. My hands shake as I reach out for them, the glass cutting me in the process.
I push myself up, grab my busted phone, and run to my car. I rush into our house and go straight to his room. I’m not an idiot. I know my brother isn’t a saint. He’s been caught stealing before. And last month, I found a gun under his bed. When I questioned him, he said he was holding it for a friend. I didn’t believe that for a second.
I open his drawers and start throwing things around, not knowing what I’m looking for but needing to find something, anything to tell me how much he owes these guys and why.