Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
The imagery is too much. My muscles are tightening, spasming, as air hisses through my teeth. With enough force to shake the table, I blow my load, shooting it across my abdomen. It’s a violent release. More violent than any I’ve had before. I can only credit it to the madness infecting my mind, and as I stand up and clean myself, I worry this is just the beginning.
It’s only going to get worse from here.
9
Natalia
After a rough two days with Nino, he finally starts to show improvement. By the third day, he’s happily eating and drinking on his own. My nerves are frayed, and I’m exhausted, but I’m so relieved to see him doing well enough to return to school. Alessio, on the other hand, seems to have alternate plans. I haven’t spoken to him since our last encounter, hoping to continue avoiding him, but I know he’s been to visit Nino while I’ve slept in the chair beside his bed. I pretended to be asleep while Manuel and the doctor gave him updates on Nino’s progress. However, it would appear my luck has run out. This morning, I found a handwritten note from him taped to my door. It’s a far cry from his usual way of doing things, like bursting in and scaring me half to death when I’m asleep.
The note directed me to keep Nino home for the rest of the week, in addition to a request for me to meet with Alessio in the first-floor office at nine p.m. this evening. At the bottom, there was an addendum to go over Nino’s list of after-school activities. To my shock, he’s given me carte blanche to eliminate the things Nino does not enjoy, except for his Italian studies, which are a requirement. I suspect that’s because of his heritage, and perhaps it even has something to do with whatever criminal network Alessio is involved in, but I don’t know for sure.
What I do know is that I’m nervous about seeing him today. To my horror, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what he said the other day. He had a need to tend to. Those words were specific, and I suspect intentional, as if he wanted to punish me somehow by saying them. I don’t know why he thinks I should care what he does or with whom, but it bothers me that he seems to be aware that it does affect me. For three days, I’ve imagined what she must look like, what he must do with her. It’s nagged at me. It’s eaten at me. It’s ridiculous.
I can’t have these feelings toward him, ever. Entrapping myself with unnecessary emotions will only make the endgame harder than it has to be. No matter how I might be tempted to let my guard down, the results will be the same. This can only end one of two ways. Either he will die, or I will.
The only way to resolve this issue is to put it out of my mind and get back to my routine. Since I’ve been too nervous about leaving Nino’s side while he was ill, I’ve scarcely eaten myself, and I haven’t had time to do my morning workout. During my time here, I’ve made good use of Alessio’s home gym. Right now, I am craving that movement. I need something to expend this frustration and make me feel human again.
Once Nino is safely tucked into bed, and I’m certain he’s asleep, I change into my gym clothes and head downstairs. It’s not often that I wander the house this time of the night, but I find it’s always quiet when I do. I’ve learned that Angelina doesn’t reside on the premises, but Manuel does. However, he’s usually in his room by seven. As for Alessio, he keeps to himself on the third floor of his private lair. That means I have the space to myself, much to my relief.
In the gym, I push myself through a series of endurance and strength-based exercises I’ve practiced for years. I’m shaking with exhaustion by the time I finish, and I find it frustrating that just a few days away from my routine has left me feeling weaker. I need to maintain my strength. This is the one area I cannot allow myself to become complacent.
Irritated, I wipe myself with a towel and splash some cold water on my face at the sink. A cold shower would do better, but I find myself glancing at the adjoining glass wall that leads to the pool area. I’ve sat by that pool many times already, nervously watching Nino as the instructor gives him his lessons. I don’t like the water. I’ve tried to avoid it at any cost. But there’s a part of me that knows the water outside might be my only escape when the time comes. I didn’t come this far to let one of my fears get the best of me.