Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 119011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
But on the other hand, Jeff was Leo’s younger brother, patched in just two years ago. He could have ended up dead instead of injured, all because of Zolt’s rogue business practices.
Zolt’s nostrils flared, as if he were about to charge, but with the gun pointing straight at his forehead, he stayed put and drawled, “It might be a rare piece, but I’m hardly the only man pushing guns.”
Kane’s fiery red hair was like a match about to burn. He spun around and kicked Zolt’s back, sending him face-first on the floor. He did utter a grunt this time and balled his hands into fists, as if he wanted to claw at the floor.
Jack’s mouth twitched, and he tapped a plaque on the barrel of the weapon in question. “Engraved octopus. The previous owner had it personalized, you idiot. Or will you tell me that must have been an accident too? Are all the Colombian gangsters obsessed with sea life?”
Zolt swallowed, slowly dragging himself back to his knees. The beard, which was usually so well groomed, now glistened with blood. “I’m sorry about your brother, okay?” he asked, and his piercing blue eyes stabbed Leo like harpoons.
“Fuck, Zolt! Come on, man! Come on!” Leo choked on air and clutched at his head. Anger simmered inside of him at this betrayal, yet all he could think of was protecting Zolt from his stupid cousin’s wrath. Kane had no boundaries, and if he were the one holding the gun, Zolt might have been reduced to a piece of mangled meat on the floor by now.
When Kane made another attempt at kicking Zolt, Leo stepped in and shoved him back, desperate to salvage the situation, because he couldn’t deal with the thoughts crowding in his skull while Zolt was in danger.
“I say we just end this bullshit here and now!” Kane yelled, and Jack had to grab his arm to keep him away.
Leo rubbed his forehead and looked to Jack, the oldest and most reasonable of them. “Zolt’s a good guy who’s made a bad decision.”
Mike’s eyes darted to Leo, still cold as icicles. “Why are you taking his side? Jeff’s shoulder might never be the same!”
Zolt took a deep breath, rubbing his palms against the floor, as if the monotonous movement calmed him down. “Look, I had no choice, okay? It was only a couple of guns, and they haven’t come back for more since! They don’t even know I work with you!”
“And why would we believe you now? You should have come to us. We’re exclusive. That’s the deal,” Jack said forcefully, but Leo’s eyes followed Kane, who walked behind the counter and grabbed Zolt’s baseball bat. His gaze swept over the scene, and once he found his mark, he took a swing and crushed the translucent castle into tiny pieces that burst all over the counter and floor.
Despite all his anger, Leo’s heart crumbled when he thought back to the honest, giddy smile Zolt had shown him when he’d pulled that trinket out of the box.
The sound of shattering glass still rang in Leo’s ears when he spoke. “Listen, I’ve been here all the time for almost two weeks now, and there wasn’t a Jackal in sight. I think we’ve said enough to drive the point home.”
Kane sneered, huffing like a rabid dog seeking a victim. “Have we, though?”
Leo’s heart stopped when his bastard cousin rolled over the counter, eyes on the shimmery fish tank that remained open, waiting for Zolt’s new buy. He dashed toward him and grabbed the bat before it could have smashed the glass. “Fuck off from this! What did the fucking fish do to you? Jack, come on!” Leo cried, seeking his big brother’s attention in the dusky space that at this point reminded him of prison rather than home.
Jack’s face didn’t even twitch, but he stepped back, grabbed the brand new display cabinet, and pushed it over. Glass and jewelry scattered over the floor like a flash flood, but the mess wasn’t satisfying enough for Mike, who stepped away from Zolt and shot the entire round left in the octopus gun at the display of musical instruments. One of the guitars, the expensive one marked with a signature at the front, spun as the bullets hit it before descending to the floor in an eruption of wood.
Zolt stared at it, eyes wide, his mouth set, but the fire in his eyes meant murder, and when he shot up and stepped closer to Leo, he was struggling for air. “A word.”
Leo’s stomach twisted with guilt. He always tried to be honest with his family, but he didn’t want Zolt hurt either. What a clusterfuck. “Stop fucking wrecking shit, okay? Give us a moment,” he shouted to Jack.
Mike shook his head and kicked over a mobility scooter, as if he were intent on damaging all the valuables on show. “You’ve got three fucking minutes.”