Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
“Why not just tell her to fuck off? I grew up around Angie, too, and I know how she can be. The only way to get through her head is to tell her how the fuck it is.”
“You think I didn’t do that? She’s adamant when she wants to get her point across.”
“If she was a male she would have made one hell of a made man.” Niklo started laughing, but then sobered. “On second thought, she’d probably stab us all in the back right after she slit our throats.”
“Just avoid her. She’ll get the point soon enough.” Probably not, but Joey had more pressing issues right now, and didn’t have time to deal with a woman that thought the world revolved around her. “Just bring me the shit because I’m not going to leave Marra alone until I know what the fuck is going on.” He hung up the phone, knowing that he could have Alex or Niklo, or even Little Johnny over here watching Marra while he hunted down Carlos and needed this.
But the selfish part of him wanted to be with her, keep her for himself, and not let anyone else spend time with her. He was becoming a possessive bastard, but in all honesty ever since he had seen Marra he had wanted her.
Over the last year that desire had grown to a dangerous level.
The sound of bare feet on the hardwood floor had him looking at Marra. She stood there in his clothes, her hair an even wilder mess around her face. “How long were you standing there?”
She shrugged. “Just long enough to hear about Angie, the crazy ex-girlfriend.”
He nodded once, grabbed a cup from the strainer, and turned to show it to her. “Coffee?”
She shook her head. “I don’t like coffee.”
He lifted a brow, and then chuckled. “Yet you work at Vincenzo’s, which specializes in coffee.” He grinned and put the cup down.
“I hope it’s okay, but I found an unused toothbrush in the bathroom.”
“Anything here is for you to use. In fact I’ll have someone bring some other things here for you.”
She was silent for a second, looked at the ground, and then finally glanced at him again. “I need to leave, Joey.”
He didn’t need this shit either. “Marra, don’t be a fucking fool.” He stared at her, saw the anger morph her expression, but didn’t show any emotion.
“What did you just say?” Although she tried to sound outraged, Joey could hear the hurt in her voice.
He exhaled and moved closer to her. She took a step back, but the wall stopped her retreat. “Don’t let your need to get away from me, and from your feelings, make you a tragedy.”
She opened her mouth, but didn’t say anything. “I don’t need your protection. I can leave, go far away from here, and you won’t have to worry about me anymore, Joey. And if you won’t let me leave town, how in the hell am I suppose to get to my job on Monday?”
He searched her face, and then reached out and cupped her cheek. “It’s the weekend, so worrying about Monday isn’t very productive right now. You’re in danger, and I promise you that shit will get straightened out. You don’t need to run.”
She jumped slightly when he started moving his finger back and forth over her cheek, but then relaxed in his hold.
“Not worrying about you is not an option, Marra.” He stared at her lips, wanting to kiss her so fucking badly, but not wanting to get slapped because he was rushing her. “I didn’t want to get gritty with you concerning what you could face if Carlos and his men get you, but it is clear your stubborn ass needs to have it that way. These men are clearly fucking morons and unstable if they think they can go up against my organization and the people I considered under my protection, and not feel my wrath.” He didn’t move although he should have. “If they wanted to hurt you they could do it a hundred different ways, and by the end of it you’d be begging for death.” Joey was all about saying it how it was, but with Marra he almost wanted to keep her in this little bubble of protection, away from the ugliness of how he lived his life. But that wasn’t a reality, and if she wanted to survive, she needed to know. “They’ll gouge out your eyes, pull your fingernails off with rusty pliers, and take a blowtorch to your skin as they watch it bubble up.”
The sound of her gasping was loud, and the fear and reality of what he had just said covered her face in ghastly horror. “Is that stuff you’d do, too?”
She may know about what he did, about the mafia, or at least what she thought she knew from watching movies and reading books, but she didn’t know half of it. “If it was to make a point, or to get what I wanted, then yeah. I’d fucking do all of that and more.”