Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 87155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
I’d tried to find information on the buyer, so had my lawyer, but everything pointed to a company in southern Germany. It hadn’t occurred to me once that would be a front. The offer had been above the value of the land. Why in hell would Marcus Guardia want to buy this house? This dead land?
“Are you still there?” Lina asked.
“I need to find your sister. Lina, does your grandfather know you know?”
“No. I overheard something he said, and I snuck into his study when he went out for dinner. I just knew something wasn’t right.”
“Thank you. I’ll deal with that later. Don’t tell him that you told me.”
“I wasn’t going to. Raphael, I found other things too.” Her voice quivered.
“All right. I’m going to find Sofia, and we’re going to call you together. Sit tight, okay?”
“She’s not hurt, is she?”
How did I answer that? “I’m sure she’s fine,” I lied, not sure of anything at all.
We hung up, and I dialed the taxi service she’d used. They could confirm that a taxi had come to the property at half past ten and delivered a woman and her dog to Guardia Winery.
I thanked them and hung up, quickly texted Lina, and went upstairs to get dressed and go to the winery to pick her up. Her grandfather had given her a key that day at lunch. She must have planned on staying there after our fight today.
The winery was a little over an hour away. I drove fast over deserted, dark roads, having only the moonlight at intervals between the clouds and my headlights to navigate the winding road. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. That foreboding, it seemed more like a premonition, and images of my recurring dream kept flashing before my eyes.
I hit the accelerator and rolled down the window, feeling nauseous. It was getting so bad, I thought I could smell it even, smell the scent of fire, of flesh burning in fire.
Fuck. I was going crazy. It was a dream. Nothing was wrong. Just a stupid fucking dream.
But as I took the next bend, the clouds cleared, and a plume of smoke rose over the next hill. I recognized that smell. It wasn’t the dream. It was ash. It was in the air.
As my brain tried to process what was happening, my hands tightened around the steering wheel and I pushed the gas pedal to the limit. Not more than two miles away, a blaze rose high, the sound of fire, the roar of it still a whisper, a hint.
“No.”
I drove like Satan himself was chasing me and fumbled for Sofia’s cell phone on the seat beside me, the charger hanging from it like the tail of a mouse. Taking my eyes off the road for a second, I dialed 1-1-2, the smell stronger as I neared Guardia.
This couldn’t be happening.
Not again.
It was my fucking nightmare. Not reality.
A voice came through on the line, crackling with bad reception. I turned onto the property, where the gates stood partially open, shoving them wide with the front end of my car. I gave the agent the address. Told her there was a fire. We needed the fire department. We needed help.
I stopped the car halfway to the house.
She asked if anyone was inside. I opened my door and climbed out, ash choking me as I looked over the destroyed land before turning to the house.
I don’t think I answered her. Somewhere along the way, I lost Sofia’s phone as I ran to the structure, calling out her name, screaming it against the roar of fire. The front door was locked. I tried throwing my shoulder into it, the pain shooting through my side with the impact. It still didn’t give. It wouldn’t open.
“Sofia!”
All I could hear was the sound of fire. All I could smell was ash. Fire was burning the back of the house, and I needed to get in there. To get her out.
I backed up, looking up at the windows, seeing one was open at the side closest to the fire. It’s where she was. I knew it.
Without thinking, I picked up the nearest stone and hurled it at the window downstairs, smashing it. Not caring that shards of glass tore my clothes and skin, I climbed inside, the distant sound of sirens giving me some hope, even as the scent of gasoline filled my nostrils.
She’d be okay.
I’d find her. I’d be in time.
I wouldn’t let her die.
But all I could see were images from the nightmare. Hearing her. Unable to reach her. Opening the door only to find I was too late. Finding charred remains…
“Sofia!”
I tore my shirt off to cover my mouth and nose and ran to the stairs. Thick smoke made it impossible to see.
“Sofia, where are you?”
Nothing. Not from her.