Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
I stare at the phone in my hand, trying to find a way around the facial recognition requirement that unlocks it. I draw in a breath and try to talk to him again.
“Dario?”
I need him awake.
“Dario!”
I need him here, with me, so I’m not alone with the coyotes and whatever other predators are outside that door. There’s just… I can’t. I can’t go it alone here.
Or later, when I’m no longer a captive here. He’s the only barrier I have between me and literally everyone else.
I hear him mumble in his sleep and bring him the phone. “Dario. Please. If you could just open your eyes for like one minute— just tell me the password…”
He doesn’t open his eyes but lifts his hand, a barely perceptible little wiggle of his fingers.
What?
I stare at the phone for minutes before it dawns on me. It needs a thumbprint recognition. With a dry little sob, I quickly lift his heavy hand and press his thumb to the screen. Error, it flashes in red.
No. My heart sinks. How am I ever going to get the help that we need? I throw my head back and scream out the sheer frustration, anger, and helplessness I feel.
Goddamn my family.
Goddamn the Rossis.
Their ruthless and archaic laws have bound me worse than Dario ever has. I can’t help him even when I need to.
Okay, alright.
I can do this. I’m not gonna go all helpless female, not now.
I’m not getting anywhere wallowing in my anger and self-pity. I need to figure out what the hell I’m doing and now.
I glance down at his hands, gently folded over his abdomen. He sleeps as if he’s resting, but I know that’s his body’s way of conserving energy. And if I don’t get him the help he needs, he may not wake up.
I know his fingerprint opens this phone.
But I only tried his thumb, and it was on his left hand. He’s right-handed… could it be… that I need to try another way? He’d be holding his phone with his right hand, which means…
I reach for his hand and lift his thumb, slide his right thumb along the lock pad. The screen flashes to life, and the phone unlocks.
I almost sob in relief. I bring his hand to my lips and kiss each one of his fingers. With shaking fingers of my own, I swipe through the phone.
I could call a friend.
I could call the police.
I only think for seconds, before I pull up the last dialed numbers. I know this is only a burner phone, so there won’t be any contacts saved. I’ll hang up if it isn’t Orlando.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
I close my eyes, squeezing them tight. “Please work,” I whisper. “Please.”
“Jesus, motherfucker, thought you’d never answer my call. Why didn’t you—”
“Orlando?” I interrupt.
There’s a brief pause, then, “Vivia? What the hell are you doing on this phone?”
Tears blur the screen in front of me. “It’s an emergency,” I say on a sob. “Send help, and quickly.” I fill him in as rapidly as I can, though it takes longer between my half-sobs and shaking voice.
“Jesus, alright. Okay, I’m on it. Take a deep breath. You stay right there. If you try anything, Vivia—”
“Send help!” I shout. “If I were going to run, I’d have already done it! Send help now, or he won’t make it!”
“On it.”
I hang up the phone and stare at the screen. I’ve done my duty. Now’s the time I could run. Orlando will take care of Dario, and I—I could just slip away. Just slip out that door and no one will know where I’ve gone or what I did.
I can take this phone and whatever cash I find…
I rifle through his bags until I find a wad of cash. I realize I’m barely wearing any clothes, so I quickly tug on a pair of jeans and shoes. I shove the money in my pocket.
His breath is coming in shallow gasps. I’ll just… give him some water before I go.
I run to where we keep fresh water and a drinking cup and pour him some.
“Drink,” I whisper, but he’s out. I part his lips and dribble the water on them. He doesn’t make a move until I tilt his head back and pour a tiny bit of water into his mouth. He instinctively swallows.
“Good,” I whisper. “Just like that. Good job. Drink more.”
I give him another sip, and he drinks that, too.
“Can you hear me, Dario? Squeeze my hand if you can hear me.”
No response.
I close my eyes and think again of my plan to leave. With money and a phone, I could find my way out of here.
My brothers aren’t the only ones with connections.
I could escape far away to the West Coast or Mexico, even. Find a place to stay where no one knows me. No one. I’ll start from scratch, but I’ll know that everything I earn is mine.