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)
Her brows pucker together with disbelief, and I add for reassurance, “I’m okay. He’s not hurting me.”
She scowls, looking my face over once more. I know she doesn’t believe us, and she shouldn’t, however, after a second, she doesn’t seem to care anymore.
“If you say so,” she mutters and walks away to submit our order.
Once she’s out of earshot, I peer over at Markus, giving him a dirty look. I find him sitting back in his seat with a smug look on his face. He thinks he’s so smooth.
“You thought I was going to hurt her, didn’t you?”
I shrug. “You hurt me, so what makes it any different?”
He leans across the table, his eyes bleed into mine, and I can’t help but squirm.
“I didn’t hurt you because I wanted to, Fallon. You left me no other option, and you continue to put yourself in danger again and again. As for the little old lady, I’m not always a violent person. I can be very understanding, given certain circumstances.”
It’s my turn to laugh, but I don’t.
Even though this is a joke. All of it.
Him and me. What we’re doing right now.
We’re headed nowhere.
A car with no destination.
I have to focus my attention on finding the one thing that the person who took my sister wants. If I can find it, then maybe I can still save her.
Or at the very least, I’ll have a bartering tool. Hope starts to bloom in my chest at the thought. I could still do this. I’ll save her at any cost. Even if that means putting myself in danger.
He doesn’t want to help me, anyway. He wants to keep me trapped, keep me as his for as long as he can. Soon he’ll find out I wasn’t made to be kept. This started as a job and will end as one.
28
Markus
I pull into my designated parking spot and cut the engine. The underground parking garage is silent and dimly lit. Still I feel like we’re out in the wide open. I can’t believe I’m bringing her here, to my place, my apartment.
I bought it because it’s safe. But it’s set up to keep people out, not to keep someone in. There is no way for me to keep Fallon here besides constantly having her tied up, and I know she isn’t going to like that, not one bit.
“Where are we?” Fallon asks curiously as she peers out the window.
“My place. Come on.” I get out and jog around the car quickly just in case she gets any ideas about running. I take a step back, giving her some distance so she can get out.
When she stands, I take her hand, close the car door, and lead her over to the elevator.
“Jesus, could you maybe slow down a bit. Not all of us are six feet tall,” she complains, and I grunt in response. All I want to do is get us upstairs. Here in the city, anything could happen, and we don’t need to be ambushed.
Inside, I punch in my code, and the door slides shut. When they reopen, we’re looking into my penthouse. I tug her out of the elevator and into my living room. She digs her feet into the wood grain floor.
“Wow… this is your apartment?” The shocked tone of her voice meets my ears.
I nod and tug her further inside. “You want a drink?” I ask before forcing her to sit on the couch.
“Sure, why not?”
I pour us both a glass of bourbon and hand her one. Taking the seat across from her, I lean back and take a sip of the amber liquid. A sigh slips past my lips. I still feel uneasy, but nothing like I felt on the way here or coming into the building.
Fallon takes a hesitant sip, almost as if to make sure it’s not poisoned or something. Once she is convinced it’s not, she takes an actual drink, leaving the glass half empty. Her blue eyes gleam when they meet mine.
“How long are you going to keep me here?”
“Indefinitely,” I reply, swirling the bourbon around in my glass.
She laughs. “I’m serious.”
I look up from the amber waves in my glass. “So am I.”
“You can’t just keep me forever.”
“We’ll see.”
She sighs heavily, as if the weight of the world is pressing down on her shoulders. “I need to help my sister.”
“You can help her. Give me the number. Trust me.”
“Trust you?” She laughs humorlessly. “How can I trust you? You tell me that you are a bad man. You point out how you bought me and how you’re using me until you’ve had your fill. Hell, you told me just earlier today that you are going back on your word of not hurting me. Now you expect me to trust you?”
I shrug. “I’ve never lied to you, and none of today would have happened if you would have done what you were told.”