Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80014 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80014 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Dante returned the phone to his pocket and took the journal as he said, “I wish he’d tried again to contact me, on a night when I wasn’t drunk. Or even a couple of years later, when I’d had a chance to mature a bit.”
“Tell him that, once we find him.” I pulled up his photo on my phone, the one I’d snapped when we’d been in Romy’s apartment, and showed it to Dante. “This is Reno, by the way. He has a kid brother who’s ten years younger, and that’s where the nickname came from. Romy couldn’t say ‘Adriano’ when he was a toddler.”
He took the phone from me and muttered, “Jesus, he really does look like me.”
“He probably did when he was eighteen, too, but you turned him away.”
Dante handed the phone back and frowned as he asked, “Are you going to keep holding that against me?”
“No. I just wanted to make sure you felt really guilty about it before I let it drop.”
“I do.”
“Perfect.”
He started to flip through the journal, but then a tiny little old lady bustled into the room, followed by a tall guy who looked a hell of a lot like Dante, except that he was wearing glasses and was clean-shaven. “Nana and Vincent, meet Jack,” Dante said, with a sweeping hand gesture.
Nana’s white hair was up in a bun, and she wore a pink track suit and round glasses that made her look like an owl. She was carrying a shopping bag, which she thrust at Dante before grabbing me in a tight embrace. “You poor little thing,” she said, as she squeezed me. “Your message broke my heart, so I called Dante and made him charter a plane, and we got here as soon as we could. Now, don’t you worry. We’re going to find your boyfriend.” She let go of me and pulled a huge handgun out of her purse. “Then we’re going to put the fear of god into the son of a bitch that kidnapped him!”
Dante swore under his breath and plucked the gun out of his grandmother’s hand. She scowled at him as he tucked it into the back of his waistband, and I said, “I guess they don’t make you go through a metal detector for a charter flight.”
“No, they don’t, not when you reserve the whole plane. Then they treat you like a VIP,” she said. “Good thing too, because Dante and Vinny brought a shitload of guns along. Oh, don’t look so surprised, boys. What do you think, that I was born yesterday? I know what that funny-looking luggage is for, and it ain’t pool floaties.”
“Well, good. We might need them,” I said.
Nana started pulling things out of the shopping bag she’d handed to Dante. “Now look,” she said, “we don’t have much time. We’ve got to spring you from this hospital. Fortunately, I have a lot of expertise in this area. We need to do it pronto, too, before the fuzz shows up and starts asking questions. They get real uptight when gunshot wounds are involved.” She thrust a baby pink pair of sweatpants at me and explained, “Dante said you needed some clothes, and there wasn’t much selection downstairs in the gift shop. See if those fit. We got you some shoes, too, even though I was unclear on whether you needed any. But I got them anyway, because they match the outfit.”
She looked pleased with herself as she took a pair of hot pink glittery Crocs from the bag and showed them to me. I thanked her as I pulled the sweatpants on under my hospital gown. Except for being about six inches too short, they were a good fit. “I’m going to need to pull the plug before I can put on a shirt,” I said, as I gestured at my IV. “I just hope I don’t puke, because the sight of blood makes me queasy.”
I started to reach for the IV, but Nana thrust the shoes at Dante and said, “Let me. I know how to do this, too.” I pressed my eyes shut while she unhooked me, and then she said, “It’s only bleeding a little, and I have a bandage.”
Nana dug around in her purse while Dante shifted the bundle in his arms, and I dabbed at the puncture on my arm with a tissue. She handed me a hairbrush, a candy bar, a taser, and a giant hunting knife in a sheath before saying, “Here we go.” Then she daintily stuck a rainbow-striped bandage over the spot where my IV had been.
Dante made a small choking sound and tried to snatch the knife and taser, but Nana slapped his hand away and put the weapons back in her huge purse. I glanced at Vincent while all of that was going on. His eyes were closed, and he was pinching the bridge of his nose and grinding his teeth. It seemed like he was about two seconds from shrieking and running away, so I liked him immediately.