Series: The Moretti Crime Family Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 111428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
“I’ve got you.” His voice strokes my ear.
Leaning against him for support, I grow angry. I don’t want his help. I don’t want to feel the feelings I’m feeling for him. All I want to do is save my sister, protect her, and make sure she is okay, but I can’t even do that.
I’ve failed her and failed myself. Everything that is happening to her now is my fault, and I have to live with that. So no matter what Markus does to me, nothing will be worse than what I’ve already done to myself.
“I’m fine,” I snap. “I don’t need you.”
Markus takes a step back, and I almost eat the pavement but catch myself at the last second. “Let’s go.”
He tugs me forward, and I let him. Together we enter the diner, where the smell of fried foods and coffee fills my nostrils.
“Sit wherever you would like,” a middle-aged woman says as she pours a cup of coffee.
Markus obliges and drags me to a booth in the corner of the restaurant, away from the other patrons. He releases the hold on my wrist, only to shove me into one side of the booth before sliding into the other.
There are menus at the end of the table near the sugar and salt and pepper, and I grab one to give myself something to do.
A woman who looks to be about sixty-years-old with graying hair saunters up to the booth. She looks like the mothering type. The kind that makes the best hot cocoa, crochets blankets, and stuff.
Her gaze bounces between us before coming to a stop on me. Her big eyes widen in horror. Oh god, are their marks on my throat? Do I have a black eye? Shit, I didn’t even look in the mirror. I probably look like I just lost a boxing match.
“What can I get ya to drink?” she drawls, dragging her gaze away from me.
“Two coffees,” Markus answers before I can even form a response.
The old woman seems to bite her tongue, nods her head, and whirls around, heading for the coffee pot. My heart skips a beat in my chest as anxiety swirls. The last thing I need is for Markus to do something to her.
I wouldn’t put it past him to kill a little old lady.
I stare down at my hands, which are holding the menu with a death grip. Markus doesn’t say anything, and aside from some late-nineties diner music, silence surrounds us.
The little old lady returns with our coffees, setting them down in front of us.
“We’ll have two number one breakfasts,” Markus orders for me, and I lift my gaze to glare at him. He gives me a toothy grin that says try me, and I’m tempted, but not enough to risk someone else’s life. He’ll kill everyone in here, even her, and I couldn’t live with that on my conscience.
“Sure.” She scribbles something down on her little notepad and then turns to me. It’s then I see her name tag. Minnie. It’s hard to appear normal under her microscopic gaze, especially when I know she can see right through me.
“Ya know, sweetheart, if you need help…”
I shake my head, fear rising up. “I don’t need help,” I whisper almost shamefully.
I do need help, so much help, but not from her.
Markus clears his throat, and I worry the second I look at him, he’s going to have his gun out and pointed at this old lady’s head. It’ll be an image I won’t soon forget.
“Listen, lady, you need to mind your own business,” Markus growls like a bear.
Fear pulses through my veins like a second heartbeat. I’m sure the waitress is going to back off, scared of Markus, but instead, her wary gaze flicks to him. She shoves her notepad into the front of her apron before placing her hands on her hips, ready to give him a lecture.
“Everything becomes my business when it walks into my diner, boy. I know guys like you, seen ’em my entire life. Always causing trouble and hurting women. Thinking they’re the king of the world. Your type doesn’t scare me. You’re nothing but a little boy to me. I’ve seen much bigger and scarier monsters than you.”
Oh god. Please.
“I’m okay, really… everything is okay,” I try to defuse the situation, afraid that Markus is going to lose his cool and flip his shit. My chest tightens, and I’m prepared to jump between this woman and him if I have to.
Strange enough, the opposite seems to occur. Instead of overreacting, Markus lets out a low chuckle and shakes his head. It’s like he’s amused and not at all threatened. The likelihood of her fighting him is slim, but she could call the police.
“I appreciate your concern and your bravery. Seriously, lady, you’re hiding some gigantic balls under that tiny apron, but I can assure you, she’s well taken care of. I’m not the one who did that to her face, and I’m not causing trouble, yet. I respect your need to check on her, but she’s fine.”