Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
"Take four more," he suggests.
"That much?"
"To be safe. Money isn't our problem."
"Right." Our problem is lack of manpower and Leka's injuries. I fold the five bills in half. I hand the stack to the parking attendant.
"We aren't here," I tell him as he raises the gate.
"Never saw you," he says after a quick count of the cash.
Leka gives a nod of approval and falls back onto his seat. I don't know how much time that buys us. A couple of days? A week? Certainly not enough for Leka to heal.
I ease him out of the car and help him over to the elevator. We take it up to our floor.
"Why'd we get the apartment at the end of the hall?" Leka huffs as we stare at the long hallway. It looks as impossible as spinning hay into gold. Leka forces one foot in front of the other while I hover behind. If he collapses, there's no way I'm getting his big, two-hundred-pound frame into the apartment myself. I silently send him waves of energy and he manages to drag himself all the way to the end.
Inside the apartment, he staggers to the living room and collapses on the sofa, leaving streaks of blood and dirt all over the gray cushions.
"There's a bottle of hydrocodone in my bathroom. Get that for me, will you?"
I'm down the hall before he finishes his request. I find quite a few prescription bottles in his cabinet: sleeping pills, anti-inflammatories, and narcotic painkillers. I scoop them all into my shirt and carry them out to the living room, dumping them on the table.
It's then I notice two black duffels on the floor. One is full of cash and the other is guns. And magazines. And bullets.
"I'll need you to splint the ring finger and bandage the pinkie, but make the bandage thin so it doesn't interfere with my grip," he orders.
I raise my eyes from the floor to his face, which is so hard it could be carved from stone. His eyes are set on the magazine he's filling. Something inside of me cracks open. "You're going back tonight? You could barely walk down the hall and you're going back tonight?"
"They won't expect it. Cesaro will go to some club and get wasted. His men will be tired. It's nighttime, so there will be fewer people who will notice me."
"Leka, please. Give yourself a night to recover. Maybe two. We'll think of something. You said money is not a problem, so let's hire some people. You can't go in there alone."
"I thought you said you could use a gun."
"I did, but to shoot pigeons and turkeys and, I don't know, the occasional deer!" My voice grows high and tinny. I can feel hysteria sweeping up and taking hold of me.
"All you have to do tonight is drive the car."
"Leka. Please." I sink to my knees. "This is madness. You are going to get yourself killed. Let's run away. Let's leave the guns, take the money and our new IDs and find some small town in the middle of nowhere. Cesaro won't find us. We'll start new lives."
He shakes his head. "No. Cesaro won't let this go. I'm known to be his man, and if I run off and Cesaro lets me go, it sets a bad precedent. He's got to kill me, and right now is the perfect time for him to strike, too, because I'm weak and injured. You said you would always listen to me, without question, if we’re in danger. You going back on that?"
I bury my face in my hands as my own words come back to haunt me. I did say those things and I meant them, at the time, but like so many promises, you don't realize the consequences until you come face to face with them. "I'm not going back on my promise, but you pledged to love me forever. This is not forever. It's been barely a month."
"I'm not going to die tonight."
"How can you say that?"
"Because I have too much to live for. Now bandage me up."
It's the calmness in his voice, the utter surety of his words that gets me to battle back the abyss-eating panic. I pick up the antiseptic and the bandages and get to work, keeping all my tears and fright and anger inside. I don't even show an ounce of surprise or sadness at discovering that half of Leka's pinky is missing. That's Beefer, the Butcher's, work. Maybe I can shoot a human. If that hog was in front of me, I'd aim right for his balls.
Leka sits stoically while I tend to his wounds. I try to be careful, but every movement has to be agonizing. Finally, I’m done.
“Go get anything you want to keep. We’re not coming back.”
I run to the bedroom. In a backpack, I throw together some clothes and toiletries. In the corner of my bed, I spot the first bunny Leka ever gave me. It was the one he bought me that very first time we were in Macy’s. I’m going to give that to our kid. I take out a shirt to make room for the stuffed animal and run outside.