Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 56267 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56267 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
“I just don’t want to die yet. I have so much to live for… My mom died rather young, and I want to fulfill everything before that time comes.” Her words cause a hole in my chest to form. She’s opening up to me about her mother and her death. God, does it make me feel more like a fucking asshole for treating her like shit, for putting her through all of this. It has to be done though, softness is weakness…
“You never talk about your parents, but let me tell you it hurts to lose someone you love like that. It feels like a piece of the person that you were died with them. I miss my mom everyday…” She says all of this innocently without knowing my story. I clench my teeth together as sweat forms on my hands. This is the part that gets me, the part where someone wants to know about my family, or what happened to them. No one asks because they already know, but yet looking deeply into her eyes I can tell she deserves at least a smidge of the truth.
“I know more than you think, Piccolo…” My words are soft as she looks at me with concern. This is the hard part about what I do. Not allowing myself to get close to anyone. It’s always easier if you’re closed minded, and shut yourself out from the world. If I make the rules then I control the outcome. With Bree, I’m starting to wonder if I can control the outcome of all of this.
“Why do you call me that?” Her voice is hushed, and there’s a sense of warmth that fills my bones. She’s too innocent for her own fucking good.
I reach out placing my hand on her thigh. Her skin is warm against my hand, and I stare deep into her eyes, “You’re a little one. Or at least you remind me of one.” She won’t understand what I’m saying, but she’s fragile, tiny in her own way. She doesn’t even realize the power that she contains. I was gone the moment my eyes landed on that picture of her in her parents run down farm house.
The vehicle comes to a stop, and Jared, my driver, is out and opening the door before she can mutter another word. I take the silence as a way to gather my thoughts. So much bad fucking shit is going to take place if I can’t figure out who has set me up.
We slip from the SUV and into the Italian restaurant I had made a reservation at. I had been going to Sangerios since I was a child. I had known almost everyone that worked here, since before I is born. The legacy started with my parents and was carried onto me. We have our own private entrance and table.
“This place is beautiful…” I hear her mumble under her breath. We head to a table outside under the small light that they had hanging above us like a canopy. The moon is shining brightly as the waitress comes to take out orders. I order two of the same thing, one for her and one for me, and then give the waitress a soft smile.
“She’s going to die of the need to have an orgasm…” Bree says rolling her eyes at me. She obviously doesn’t like my softness towards the waitress. That doesn’t matter to me though, because she isn’t the one who will be riding my dick night after night.
“That sucks then doesn’t it…?” I say sipping from my wine glass. I am not a wine kind of man. Bourbon is my choice of drink. It helps drown out the darkness that always wants to break free. I stare at Bree, my eyes lingering on her cleavage. How good will my dick look sliding between her perky tits?
“If you know what it’s like to lose someone then why do you kill all these people?” Bree asks, gripping her wine glass so hard I wonder if it will break. I hadn’t told her anything about losing someone, although I had hinted.
“It’s a job, Bree. It’s what I do. This is what my family did before me. It’s not as if I have a choice.” I say, irritated with her accusation. Does she think that she knows me because we had fucked a couple of times?
“Everyone has a choice, Alzerro. If you know what it’s like to lose someone you love, then you turning around and killing all these people makes you a hypocrite.” My patience snaps, and a fire builds in my veins as I reach across the table to grip her by the throat. My hold is gentle, but I squeeze just to remind her that it is I who is in control. A soft gasp escapes her pink painted lips, and her eyes grow large with fear. My insides yearn to slide my dick deep into her well she cries and begs for forgiveness.
“There is no good, and evil in this world love. It’s just me, and that’s something you’re going to need to learn really fast. My patience for your misunderstanding is running really thin.” My grip tightens ever so slightly, as my tongue slides across the sensitive part of her neck.
“Kill me then…” she grits out between breaths. Her eyes are filled with lust, and I have half the mind to push this shit off the table and throw her down, push her panties to the side and slam into her over and over again.
Instead I smile at her sinfully, death will be the easy way out for her. I kill people who gave me a reason to kill them. “Give me a reason to and I will.” I release her as if her skin burns me, and go back to my glass of wine.
“There is a special place in hell for people like you,” she spits at me. Her words mean nothing to me. She hasn’t a clue the type of things that are said to me when someone has a gun pointed at them.