Total pages in book: 7
Estimated words: 6671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 33(@200wpm)___ 27(@250wpm)___ 22(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 6671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 33(@200wpm)___ 27(@250wpm)___ 22(@300wpm)
“Girls, I’ve been thinking,” I begin. “We need to go on vacation. I… can’t spend Christmas here. I see mom and dad everywhere I look.” Mom did Christmas like no one else. She loved it so much. I just can’t do it.
“Okay, where do you want to go?” Ashlee asks. One day, she’ll surprise us all and have an opinion of her own.
“Fiji?” Stacee asks, the hope in her voice evident.
“I was thinking of the Montagne Verte Lodge in Stowe Vermont,” I say, producing the pamphlets and giving them each one to look over.
“God, that’s almost in Canada,” Stacee says. Stacee is what I like to call a Captain Obvious. I nod my head in response.
“It is. There’s skiing, snowboarding, and hot chocolate.”
“Oh, that sounds fun. That’s my vote,” Ashlee says.
“Oh, good because I already paid for it. I got a really good deal. Flights, rental car, three rooms, meals and alcohol included.” It was surprisingly good. Only nine hundred bucks for all that. I was so surprised by the price I called the lodge twice to confirm.
“So why did you even ask us where we wanted to go?” Stacee asks.
“I didn’t actually ask you,” I point out, but it falls on deaf ears.
“Oh. When do we leave?” Ashlee asks.
“December seventeenth, the day after winter break starts at school.”
“I can do that,” Ashlee says.
“Me too, but I have to be back in LA by the second to film a pilot.”
“Okay, no problem.”
Once we all agree, there’s finally something to look forward to, and I can’t wait.
CHAPTER 1
NUNZIO VITALI
Watching and waiting has always been my game. The job I do for my family is deeply engrained in me. Family is everything to me. I do whatever needs to be done. The hushed whispers of people who don’t understand follow me wherever I go. I scare people and that’s a fucking good thing. This trip south from my home in Queens, New York was to kill a man that fled. Gary Reese. He owed us so much fucking money. He stole from us, but we gave him the chance, well several chances to pay us back. He never did. Then he ran. Ran south like a fucking coward. Options were weighed and we knew he’d never pay us back. The hit was ordered, and I drew the short straw. My cousins, all married, were glad they didn’t have to take care of this particular piece of shit. I got into my ‘67 Mustang and followed him. He’s such a fucking moron. I found him holed up at a fleabag motel and while I should have shot him, I didn’t want the housekeepers to find him like that and then have to clean up my mess. Instead, I broke his neck. Quick, simple, and I was out the door. Then I saw her. She was walking from her car into the Starbucks across the street from the motel. It didn’t take me but a few minutes to learn all about her from her license plate. Her name, address, driver’s license number, date of birth. From there I found her social media, which was practically non-existent, and began stalking her.
Despite my job here being done, I find myself unable to leave. Unable to leave her. There are technically three of them. Identical triplets, but I know which one of them is mine. Courtnee. She teaches high school English and I’m obsessed with her. So obsessed, I know my girl has sixteen light brown freckles dashed across her nose. That’s how close I’ve been to her, and she didn’t notice. I am prepared to do anything to make her mine, including high jacking her Christmas vacation with her sisters. Once I learned of her plans, it was easy to upgrade her accommodations. I did so without hesitation. These girls have been though the ringer in the last year. Courtnee spent months in the hospital recovering from the accident that took her parent’s lives. Her sisters walked away without a scratch, but Courtnee was in a coma. I called upon a friend, Hank Jorgensen, to hack into her medical files for me. The information there made me thank God for the medical staff that treated her. She would have died without the quick thinking of the ER doctor who removed the suitcase handle that was imbedded in her lung.
I’m sitting in the booth at Starbucks watching her place her after school order. Like I have every day for three weeks. Three weeks since I saw first saw her. Today, it’s Peppermint Mocha thing. She’s brought her briefcase in, so I know she’ll sit for an hour or two and grade papers. She hates being at home, and I don’t blame her. However, all the table are full today, except for mine. I watch as she turns to face the room, drink in hand, looking for somewhere to sit down. Our eyes meet and I nod. I wasn’t going to introduce myself just yet, but it is what it is.