Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 69772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
There. I’d said it. I’d told him I was leaving, and the world hadn’t exploded around me.
“Hotels are expensive, why would you do that?” Costas asked, sounding way more alert now.
I kept shoving shit into my bags, just so overly done.
“Because I’d rather drain every single penny out of my bank account than spend another night here where your men come in and out, carrying guns that killed people, talking about who they’re going to hurt next,” I replied. “I’m not coming back.”
“But this is your house,” Costas said.
“This is Nonna’s house. Which she left to both of us,” I corrected him. “And since I can’t kick you out of your own house, I’ll leave.”
Truthfully, it should be my house. I’d drained my own savings to pay for her end-of-life care.
He hadn’t spared a single penny.
He could afford his own place. Hell, he had his own place up until Nonna got sick, and he decided to move into the house to save time.
But it’d only given me the understanding that this wasn’t going to work anymore.
“Shayne…”
“You won’t change my mind,” I said stiffly, turning to face him with a serious expression on my face. “Nonna said something to me before she died.”
He froze. “What?”
“She told me not to let you ruin my life.” I repeated the words that had been said from pale lips. “She told me that one day, I was going to have to choose between you and the life I want to live. And I better choose before I couldn’t get the life that I deserved.”
His shoulders slumped. “I’ll leave…”
He wouldn’t.
We both knew he wouldn’t.
He was a talker, not a doer.
At least, when it came to me.
Now the gang? He’d do whatever needed to be done and damn the consequences.
But he’d never choose me, and that was clearly very apparent to us both.
“It’s okay,” I said softly. “I would like you to buy me out, though.”
I would like to be able to afford rent, since I drained my savings while you continued to live your life how you wanted to live it.
I zipped my bag, caught the strap and looped it over my shoulder before walking to the front door.
It was early yet.
Barely after seven.
If I hurried, I could get to the closest motel and catch a room before my shift…
I was just about to open the door to leave when it burst open in front of me.
The wood of the door slammed me right in the forehead, and I fell backwards flat on my back.
“DPD!” was yelled loudly over the top of my prone body. “Get down!”
I was already down.
I was stunned.
I didn’t know which way was up.
And not one, but two people stepped on me as they entered what was once my home.
Cops.
Cops in riot gear.
Cops in all black.
Carrying weapons.
Aiming those weapons at us.
Some of them also had shields out, as if they were going to war.
“There’s no one else here but us!” I heard Costas yell loudly.
I rolled up onto my side and watched as the house was literally torn apart by the men coming inside, still stunned.
I felt a trickle of warmth roll down the center of my forehead, and I vaguely wondered if I was bleeding.
The pain I should’ve been feeling after being rammed by the goddamn door was nonexistent, like always. The bane of my existence.
In the periphery, Costas tried to run but was caught before he could make it a few feet.
Costas was thrown onto his stomach, and a man wearing nothing but black, even a black headdress, followed him down, straddling his body.
A man carrying a battering ram turned and knocked my Nonna’s prized plate off the wall, and I lost it.
“No,” I cried, trying to find my feet. “Please, please be careful.”
Before I could get up, though, I was flipped over onto my belly.
My face, the part that had just hit the door when it was thrown open in front of me, was smashed into the ground.
I felt my hands dig into pieces of glass from the stained glass front door, and felt a sense of grief overwhelm me at the thought of never seeing the stained glass door again.
Someone dug their knee into my back, and I groaned as all the air whooshed out of me.
Wheezing now, I said, “I’m not going to move. I promise.”
There was an evil, almost delusional chuckle above me, and then someone roughly whipped me over onto my back. Using my hair.
Pressure at my scalp was the only indication of what had just happened.
That’s when I looked up and saw a smirking Elliette standing over me.
She’d taken pride in hurting me again.
“Don’t hurt me, please,” I pleaded. “I won’t do anything.”
“You already tried, Soleada.” She rolled her eyes. “But you won’t be trying to do that again, now will you?”
No, no I didn’t think I would be.