Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 56267 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56267 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Present (Seventeen Years Later): Zerro
I watched him slither in his seat. He was nervous; I could smell it without even seeing it. His eyes watched me carefully, trying to figure out what I would do next.
“You realize that borrowing money from the mafia, without the intent of paying it back, is the same as saying come and get me, I’m ready to die?” I kept my voice calm and cool. I could mean business without showing it. That’s how I worked.
“We… I don’t have any money, Zerro...” His voice was shakey and broken; he was so scared he could barely utter a word. I didn’t care about his excuses for not having his payment. I only cared about him giving me my money, and that meant I had to do something to get it.
“Alzerro,” I corrected him. I hated it when people who didn’t know or care about me called me Zerro. My closest friends and family were the only ones allowed that privilege. When it came to business, you called me by my name. You would give me the respect I demanded.
“Alzerro,” he quickly corrected himself. His chest was heaving and sweat formed on his forehead. I could tell he thought he was going to die, and he would eventually, but I had something else in store for him first. I wanted my money back, and I would do whatever was necessary to get it. Whatever. Was. Necessary.
“I was afraid this would happen, so I went out of my way to dig up some dirt on you… Guess what I discovered? I found out you have a daughter. A very cute, young, naïve, innocent, intelligent daughter. I bet she’s very capable of handling dear ol’ Dad’s debt, don’t you think?” My voice was sinister, calm, and deadly. His face was a mask of confusion until what I said hit him square in the chest.
“No. Please. Bree has already suffered and lost so much. I borrowed the money for her to go off to college and lead a normal life… This is my debt to pay, not hers. Please, I beg of you. Please don’t bring her into this.” His features paled as his eyes brimmed with tears. He was at my mercy, yet his pleading meant nothing to me. I would love to say that I had a heart somewhere underneath my hatred, anger, and coldness, but I couldn’t. I knew who I was, and I made no apologies for it.
“I didn’t bring her into this, old man. You did,” I hissed out, shoving his words back at him. He was trying to make me feel guilty, but situations like these never made me feel badly. If anything, it fueled the inferno inside of me and made me feel more powerful.
“Please…” he whispered as he began crying again. In that moment, all I could see were the tears that must have been falling from my mother’s face when someone put a gun to her head and killed her. That man never even gave her the chance to beg or plead for her life. I prided myself on not being like that evil bastard; I, at least, was considerate enough to allow my debtors that chance before I killed them.
“You have two weeks until I come back to collect your debt. If you don’t have it by then, I will be choosing your alternate payment. One way or another, you will pay me.” I smiled, simply because I was a sick bastard like that.
My men released him, and before I stepped out of the rundown farmhouse, my eyes landed on a photo of his daughter. She would be mine; she just didn’t know it yet.
Bree
It had been months since I had seen my Dad. I had been really hesitant about leaving for college because I was leaving him all alone at the farm. I wasn’t sure he could even make his own breakfast in the morning, do his laundry, or figure out how to run the vacuum. Mom had always catered to his needs, and after she died, I tried my best to take care of him and the house. He never asked or expected me to do most of the household chores like cooking, cleaning, and laundry, but I did because I loved him. I pull my car onto our dirt road and instantly feel as if there is something wrong. I can’t see the farmhouse yet, but that did nothing to ease the knots forming in my stomach.
Pulling around the bend and up into the driveway, I notice two black SUVs parked in front of the house. A man in a dark suit is standing outside of one, his hand on a shiny item at his hip.
Is that a gun? My mind is reeling as I try to figure out what the hell is going on. Is my dad okay? Why is this man at my house? Are there more men like him? There had to be since there are two vehicles parked here. Are they robbing my house? Where is my dad?
I put my old Jeep into park and hesitate. Should I call 911? Isn’t that what the rational person would do? Except from the way that this man is looking at me through the windshield, I get the feeling that calling 911 will do me no good.
Instead, I sit very still in the Jeep, wondering what his next move will be. His eyes roam over the house and then come back to my car. Time stands still for a few seconds before he comes walking toward the Jeep. My heart is beating out of my chest, and my eyes keep glancing down to my cellphone. I should call 911. What if these people are robbing us? What if they already killed my dad? I reach for my phone, knowing it might be my only chance…
“Get out of the car, and don’t even fucking think about calling the cops,” the man growls at me through my open window. Damn it, I should have closed my window! His voice is loud and sends shivers down my spine. There is a dark, evil look in his eyes that tells me he won’t hesitate to shoot me if I try to run or be heroic.