Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
“Give me the ring.” I look down to the ring on my finger, the one he asked me to marry him with, and pull it off my finger without any further thought. My skin is imprinted from years of wearing it, and if this was a different situation, I might just cry.
“Take it.” I go to hand it to him, but he pulls me by my wrist toward him.
Dillan’s breath smells of liquor when he speaks, “I’ll take you anytime I want, remember that.”
I push off his chest, but his fingers wrap tighter around my wrist.
“Let go of my wrist, Dillan.” He does, pushing me back when he drops it.
“He’s going to kill you,” he whispers. “It’s what he does. Keir’s evil.” He sneers at me.
“Who is he?” I ask, hoping he’ll tell me.
Keir is the reason I’m in this predicament, after all.
“He’s the one they run from,” he whispers. “If we had a real-life bogeyman, he would be it. I guess that’s what happens when you take over your family business that’s known for being shady cunts. Fucking mafia.” He shakes his head.
What the fuck?
I grab my bag from the floor where I dropped it.
“You made a deal with the mafia?” I ask incredulously, trying to understand his stupidity. “How dumb are you exactly?” I shake my head and go back into our closet where an old box full of family jewels sits on the top shelf. When I reach for it, Dillan snatches it away from my hands. “Give it back.”
“Nope. I’m going to sell them so I can pay my debt.”
“You have the apartment and everything in it. Now, give me my grandparents’ things, Dillan.”
He shakes his head with pride, like a naughty kid who knows they have won.
I jump at him, trying to reach for the box, but he chuckles at my attempt. So I jump again, but this time he knocks me in the mouth, backhanding me to the floor. I can taste the metallic tang of my blood from my split lip.
“Give. It. Back!” I scream at him, getting to my feet quickly, finally ready to cause him some serious damage between the legs.
“No,” he screams back at me, looking like a feral dog as spittle flies from his mouth.
That’s when I feel the presence of someone behind us, and we both turn to see Roberto standing there.
He looks from me to my lip, then to Dillan. “Give it to her, now,” he says in a casual tone.
“You can’t come in here telling me what the fuck to give my wife,” Dillan barks.
Roberto doesn’t seem fazed by his words and pulls out a gun from his back pocket and places it near his leg—not raising it—just to let him know he has it and will use it if need be. “Now.” I can hear in his tone that it’s his last warning—something he probably doesn’t give a lot of.
Dillan throws the box at me, and I grab it eagerly, then pick up my bag on the way to the door.
“Don’t come back, Sailor.”
I turn around to look at him. “I wouldn’t dare.” I smile, feeling the split in my lip stinging as I do, and Roberto motions for me to walk past him. I glance down at the gun and am careful not to touch it as I slide out of the bedroom. When I get downstairs, the other guy is waiting at the front door with a phone to his ear. He hangs up when I get there and stands taller. His hair is the same honey brown as Keir’s, even his eyes are the same, but he holds a different feel to him, as if, dare I say it, softer. Which is absurd considering all these men are more than likely murders.
“I’m Sailor,” I tell him, offering him my free hand as I juggle my things in the other. He looks at it as if he can’t believe I just did that and shakes his head.
“I know who you are,” he says in a rough voice.
Quickly, I pull my hand back to my side and adjust my belongings as I feel them slipping.
“Can I ask what your name is?” No one seems willing to give me their names. It’s kind of weird. I only know Roberto’s because he has no shame.
“You can ask,” he responds.
“But I’m guessing you won’t tell me?” I question him, and we both turn when we hear Roberto walking back down the stairs.
“It’s Joey. He’s the boss’s brother.” Roberto smiles at Joey then looks at me. “Is that all you want? We were told to assist you in getting whatever you want from here before leaving.” He peers into the television room. “I can carry that.” He nods to the television in question.
I remember the day we bought it, after our second miscarriage.