Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Alice told me at one point it was her rule all mafia business stay outside the house. I’m not convinced they follow her rule. There have been too many times Enzo left the bed but never left the house and needed a shower before he would crawl back in.
The guard creeps closer and I stiffen. When he realizes I noticed, he stops. I reach for my phone to shoot off a quick text to Enzo, but there’s no service. Though the house is in a mildly remote location, I’ve always gotten excellent service. And I shouldn’t need service inside the house, because my phone should attach to the wifi which is also conveniently not connecting to my phone.
I swallow down my dread and focus on Matteo instead, mentally trying to make a plan. It’s hard to plan for the unknown, but I take a second to become more aware of my environment.
I hear the front door open and let out a sigh of relief at the fact someone else is here so that it’s no longer just Matteo, me, and this creepy man I don’t know. From where we’re sitting, whoever comes home will be visible in a few seconds.
The clock ticks and no one appears. I glance back at the guard, who is almost smirking at me now as he grows closer and closer. I pull Matteo closer to me, not willing to let him get further than I can grab.
“Expecting someone?” The guard asks. His low voice makes chills run down my spine.
“Just waiting for some company.”
“I’m not good enough company for you.”
He stalks towards me and I find my hand inching towards the knife. Another man appears from the doorway. The two of them look sinister.
My guard lunges for me. I don’t have time to grab for my knife before his hands are closing in on my arms but I do manage to kick his stomach pretty hard. It knocks the air out of him which give me time to scramble away.
The other man has grabbed Matteo.
“Mommy!” He shouts out as he struggles against the man who has a bruising grip on him. His voice is like ice in my veins. I can’t get to him. Not yet, not when my captor has recovered enough to lunge for me. He has bloodlust in his eyes. I don’t know what this man wants from me, but I don’t think he intends on me making it out of here alive.
In one swift motion, I manage to grab at the knife I stashed in my waistband. I was right. With enough adrenaline running through my veins, I think I could have managed to embed a butter knife in this man’s guts. He wraps his hands around my throat but I tug it upwards, slicing through more of his stomach.
He lets out a grunt and a hiss as he stumbles backward away from me. I gasp in air as quickly as I can, trying to get oxygen back to my brain. The room is spinning around me but I don’t have time to wait for my vision to return to normal. I charge at the stumbling man, adrenaline fueling me.
The man holding Matteo struggles to keep a grip on him. If the situation was less serious, I would laugh. I’ve had the same predicament when trying to get him out of a store after he’s thrown a fit.
“You little shit,” the man hisses as he readjusts his grips.
“Language.”
The word slips out of my mouth unconsciously as I pull the knife out of my captor and plunge it in again. The more holes, the more blood he loses. Seems like the most effective way to do this.
The other man’s eyes snap to me, and I realize he hadn’t been paying attention to us at all while trying to wrangle Matteo. If he wasn’t trying to kidnap my child, I could sympathize with him. There’s nothing more difficult than holding onto a squirming toddler.
He drops Matteo on the ground and slips his hand down to the holster on his hip. I’m quicker than he is. I grab the expensive vase I warned Alice would get broken and throw it at him. It shatters over his head, shards breaking off all over the living room. I thought Matteo would be the one to break it, but I warned Alice.
The man I stabbed tries to sit up, but I kick him as hard as I can in the head before stomping on his face. The crunching of bones under my shoe is a horrific noise, and it makes me want to gag. The other man is unconscious. His chest is still rising and falling, so he’s still alive. I’m tempted to kill him for touching my son. I do not doubt that if the man I stabbed is still alive, he won’t be for much longer. He’s losing blood too quickly.