Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95956 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95956 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
My feet are killing me, and for the hundredth time since I ran out of Calvino’s apartment, I wish I’d let him finish that foot rub before freaking out. I’m cold, my hair’s a frizzy mess, and the sun’s beginning to rise—but I approach a big gate at the end of a driveway and hit the buzzer.
Nobody answers. I didn’t expect them to. I stand there and buzz, buzz, buzz, not going anywhere until I get what I want. Finally, after almost ten minutes, an exasperated voice clicks on.
“Who the fuck is out there?” Damon sounds pissed and I can’t blame him. It’s barely past five in the morning.
“It’s Grace. I need to talk.”
A long, quiet pause. Another click. “Grace? Calvino’s Grace? What are you doing here?”
“Please, Damon, it’s about Riley and Louie. I just need to talk. Please.”
Another pause. I start sizing up the wall and trying to figure out the easiest way over the top because there’s no way in hell I’m letting some stupid rich guy wall keep me away. But before I try awkwardly climbing, the gate groans and slides open.
I head up the driveway to the familiar house. It’s quiet and dark in the early morning sunrise and pink and purple and red splash across the sky. I head up the front steps and walk right in through the door.
Damon’s in the kitchen. The smell of brewing coffee permeates the room. He nods at me and points at the table. “Sit down.”
I decide I’d better play nice for now and do as he says. I pull out a chair and fold myself into it as he pours two mugs, carries them over, gives me one, and sits opposite.
“You look like shit,” he says, not smiling. He’s got big bags under his eyes like he barely slept. “Did you walk all night?”
“I got lost,” I say, shrugging like it’s no big deal.
“Where’s Calvino?”
“He doesn’t know I’m here. I bet he’s out looking for me right now though.”
“I take it he told you about Louie and it didn’t sit well.”
I grimace and sip my coffee. It’s extremely good, strong and dark with a hint of berries on the finish. “That’s basically it, yeah.”
He laughs quietly and sighs. “I told him he didn’t want to know. I tried to warn him. Did he explain to you who Louie is and what he does?”
“Trigger man. That’s the phrase he used.”
“Louie’s not just a killer, he’s the best killer on the West Coast. Do you know how the Manzini family’s kept power for so long? We’re good at finding murderers and cultivating their loyalty. We breed demons, Gracie. We bring them up in our ranks, make them feel at home, and point them toward whatever motherfucker gets in our way. That’s what we do. That’s our family business, our real trade secret.”
I try to keep my breathing steady but my stomach’s a starving mess. I’m hungry, thirsty, exhausted, lightheaded. I need freaking sleep, but I’m still just as determined now as I was a few hours ago. I have to do this, and no matter what Damon says, he’s not going to talk me out of it.
“I don’t need you to do anything,” I say quietly, sipping my coffee again and wondering if it’s the last cup I’ll ever have. It’s a very good cup to go out on. “You don’t have to help me or anything. All I need is a place to find him. That’s all.”
“That’s a big ask. You want me to betray my family. You want me to send you off on a suicide mission.”
I give him a level, hard stare. “That’s my choice.”
“Is it, Gracie? I don’t know. Calvino would be heartbroken if you went and got yourself killed and my relationship with him might never recover. Why would I do that to my own brother and risk a rift in the family? More than that, why would I risk the life of a very useful man in my organization?”
I shake my head. “Damon. He murdered my cousin.”
“That’s what he does. That’s why I like him. Louie kills people, and yeah, sometimes he kills people he shouldn’t, but mostly he kills people we tell him to kill. So why the hell would I help you find him when you plan on taking him away? He’s worth more to me than you are.”
I slam the cup of coffee down on the table and some spills over the rim. I’m seething, breathing hard through my teeth and glaring at him. “Don’t tell me you’re as sick as all the others.”
He looks thoughtful. “Maybe I am. I’m honest at least. Give me an actual reason to send you off to your death that benefits me and maybe I’ll do it, but please don’t appeal to my better nature.” Damon grins at me. “I don’t have one.”