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)
“Who?” she croaks.
“His name is Timothy Brent, and he thinks I killed his daughter.”
“Did you?” Fallon looks me straight in the eyes. Emotions I have been trying to keep buried rush to the surface, bubbling over the sides and pushing past the walls I carefully constructed around myself.
Did I kill her? I didn’t pull the trigger, but I might as well have. Her connection to me is what inevitability got her killed.
“It’s my fault she is dead,” I admit.
“Do you know where my sister is? Can you save her?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll try.” My words seem to calm her down enough to drop the subject for now, but I’m sure it won’t be for long. One thing is clear, I can’t find her sister and take care of Julie at the same time. She’ll need around the clock care if she is going to make it. I’ll need someone I can trust to help me with this shitshow.
Tugging my phone from my pocket, I unlock the screen, navigate to my messages, and click on the one contact I know I can count on one-hundred percent.
Me: I need you to come to my place no matter how long it takes you. Get on a plane and get here. I need your help.
The answer comes only seconds after I hit send.
Felix: I’m on my way.
31
Fallon
It’s been three days, and I haven’t left Julie’s side, other than to sleep. I would stay with her at night as well if Markus would let me, but I don’t want to fight him on it since he lets me take care of her the rest of the time.
She’s opened her eyes a few times, but I don’t think she has fully woken up yet. The times she looked at me, there was no recognition in her gaze. Actually, there was nothing in her gaze, only emptiness, and pain.
We tried to get her to eat, but she refused, turning her head away and squeezing her eyes shut before falling back into a deep sleep.
I’m so worried for her, not only because of the physical wounds, but about the trauma you can’t see. Her body will heal, but her mind is a different story.
I can’t imagine what she’s been through, and I don’t think I want to either.
“Are you hungry?” Markus’s voice drags me from my thoughts. “I’m going to order some Japanese food.”
I look up and find him leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. The sight of him causes a ball of warmth to form in my belly.
“A little. I love Japanese.”
“Anything in particular?”
“Not really,” I shrug, “I’ll eat whatever… except maybe like raw squid.”
“No raw squid, got it.” Markus disappears into the hallway, and I go back to holding Julie’s hand. It’s not much, but at least I feel like I’m doing something.
I hate not being able to take her pain away. At least she knows I’m here, or I hope she knows anyway. I don’t want her to feel alone.
“Do you know that you are safe now?” I ask quietly.
Reaching out, I brush my fingers gently over her beautiful face. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move, not even her breathing changes. The bruises on her cheek have turned from a dark blue to a light purple, and hopefully, they will soon fade altogether. Maybe it’s best she stays asleep for a few more days. Once awake, the mental wounds will take over, bringing with them a whole new level of pain.
The thought has barely left my mind when Julie pulls her hand from my hold. I look up to find her eyes wide open, fear reflecting back at me as she takes in her surroundings. I’m almost glad I see fear in her eyes because even that is better than the void of emotions I’ve seen until now.
“Julie, it’s okay. You’re safe now.” She shakes her head as if she doesn’t believe me. “I promise, Julie, no one is going to hurt you here.”
I try to take her hand, but she pulls away yet again. I let her. I won’t do anything she doesn’t like.
“Julie, you’ve been out for a few days. You need to eat something. It will make you feel better.” I grab the bowl of oatmeal I made for her earlier from the nightstand. Using the spoon, I get a tiny amount of oatmeal and hold it to her lips. “Please, Julie, just a tiny bite,” I beg, but she turns her head away, like she’s been doing.
Sighing in defeat, I put the bowl back onto the nightstand. It’s like she has just given up.
The loud ding-dong of the doorbell startles me. I sit up a little straighter, wondering if that is the fastest food delivery service in the world or if I have been sitting here much longer than I thought. It only feels like a few minutes have passed since Markus walked in here.